On Accessing Bliss

Even in the middle of a long, cold winter

When I first got inspired to start my Substack last summer, I started creating a post called A Bliss-Filled Day. It was about the double Artist Date that BlackLion and I went on, traveling down the Maine coast as we returned home from hosting my summer writing retreat, and the Full Moon night on the beach with friends afterwards.

The whole day was full of synchronicity and upgraded vibes. At the time, I selected several pictures to share (I’m sprinkling them throughout the text for your viewing pleasure). For some reason, though, the post about bliss has been sitting in my drafts folder ever since.

Right now, in the final days of January at the waning moon, in the early days of a political regime that espouses the opposite of my core values, bliss feels rather far away. I’m not saying that my days are entirely gloomy. I don’t care much for winter and cold. I feel weighed down by the fear and hatred swirling around in the collective. The dark of the moon always feels sort of dull and even prickly to me (I’m a Reflector).

Still, my life is good. I have cats and books and hot tea, and a cozy home in which to enjoy them. I love my work, my friends, and my hobbies. I find contentment in my daily activities, and even joy.

But bliss? Well, it still seems a bit out of reach.

Part of my personality, I’ve realized recently, enjoys having joyful things to look forward to, and I do have some of those on the horizon. This weekend I have plans for dinner and dancing for a dear friend’s birthday, bookstore visits with BlackLion, and High Tea at a local inn with my Mom and some of our friends, as well as the aforementioned snuggly reading sessions. At the end of the month I have an Artist Date planned that includes a float in a sensory deprivation tank, which was a holiday gift from a friend. In less than two months I’ll be taking my first trip overseas, to Portugal.

I can feel the bliss coming closer, into my reach, when I think about those things.

I can also feel it emanating from past events, like road trips with my mermaids, swimming with the sea turtles last year in the U.S. Virgin Islands, and chanting to Green Tara during an empowerment ceremony. And of course, the bliss-filled day in July that I started with.

But what about accessing bliss in the present moment? What brings me bliss on a cold, cheerless winter day when I’m just trying to make it through?

I’m still figuring that out.

What is the difference between bliss and other, similar emotions, like joy and happiness and contentment? To me, bliss feels like there’s a bright, sparkling energy suffusing my entire being. It lifts me up, so I feel light and buoyant. It engages my whole face in a beaming smile. Bliss lingers even after the event that triggers it. Bliss is like a warm hug from one of my favorite people. It feels like the afterglow of good sex with a beloved. It’s a walk by the sea, when everything is lit with the vibrant glow of a gorgeous sunset. It feels, to me, like floating in warm water.

Bliss, like other emotions, is triggered by different experiences for different folks. I love the heat, but many of my friends would be irritable and uncomfortable in my favorite weather. Others have tried the float tank experience and found it boring or challenging. Bliss is individual, but the experience of it can also be universal. I mean, I assume it can. What does bliss feel like for you? What types of experiences bring you bliss?

Bliss is probably not as elusive as it seems. Perhaps bliss is found most easily in the state described by the Indian sage and spiritual teacher Jiddu Krishnamurti. He gave a talk in which he offered to share his secret to living a joyful and fulfilled life. "This is my secret," he told a rapt audience. "I don't mind what happens."

That feels like a key, somehow. We don’t need certain conditions in order to be blissful. Sit with that for a moment.

There are no limits to the energy of bliss, when I allow myself to tune into what it feels like. To the mind, imagining bliss is the same as experiencing it, as in those experiments where scientists found that elite athletes who visualized their routines enhanced their performance. I can find my bliss when I allow myself to search for it, right here in my own imagination.

Perhaps the key to wintertime bliss is to not mind the oppressive cold, the bad news, the lethargy in my body. Maybe I can access my bliss right here in my purple office, typing to you with chilly fingers, considering making another cup of tea. There is bliss in my devotion to my creativity, my writing, my calling. Bliss lies in sharing these photos of a blissful day many months ago, the words I’d intended to add to them since forgotten, but the rosy glow of the sensations still arising in my heart.