Permission for pleasure.

It's holy.

It's a doorway the Divine built right into your body.

We were never meant to find G-d only through struggle. Through self-denial. Through doing what's "right."

We were also meant to find Her in the way sunlight kisses our skin, in the sound of laughter spilling from our own mouths, in the deep exhale of being fully, deliciously alive.

Pleasure opens what pain tightens.

It softens the edges that shame has built around the heart.

It brings us back—to our aliveness, to our innocence, to the pulse of G-d moving through every cell.

When you let yourself feel pleasure without guilt—when you breathe it in as prayer, as permission, as presence—you remember:

You are the temple.

You are the altar. The oracle.

And pleasure is one of the most direct ways to meet the Divine within you.

Pleasure is a prayer.

A quiet, ecstatic "yes" whispered through the body.

A remembering that the Divine does not only live in temples, but in touch, in taste, in the way your chest rises to meet your breath.

Some humans I know have been taught to only look for G-d in the sky, in silence, in sacrifice.

But Hashem is also here—in the warmth of your skin, in the shiver that says I am alive, in the places your soul hums when you finally stop apologizing for wanting.

Pleasure is not bad indulgence.

It is communion.

It is the way Spirit reminds the body: You are not separate from Me.

Every sigh, every moment you soften into joy, every time you allow beauty to pierce you open—you are touching the Divine.

The holy was never meant to be sterile.

It was meant to pulse. To move. To be felt.

And when you let yourself feel deeply—without shame, without contraction—you become the prayer itself.

You become the doorway.

You become the place where Heaven enters Earth.

You become the infinite remembering itself in form..

With Love,
Rivky