The Cautious Hedonist
Photo Credit: The Cleveland Museum of Art
“I feel like there is always something trying to pull us back into sleep, that there is a sort of seductive quality in all the hedonistic pleasures that pull on us.” ~ Bell Hooks
Cautious: avoiding excess; careful forethought.
Hedonist: A person who believes pleasure is the most important pursuit in life.
The title for this week’s musings blog seems at first glance to be a contradiction in terms. Which is why it sparked my fancy. I love nothing more than to explore the contrasts and complexities of life. Today I’m writing about my experiences of learning to temper my yearning to pursue pleasure by exercising caution. I hope, dear reader, my thoughts, told from my heart, fuel your curiosity about your relationship to hedonism and caution.
Bell Hooks asserts that the seductive qualities of hedonistic pleasures pull us back into sleep. I think she’s onto something, because the idea of the pursuit of pleasure leading to our downfall has been inserted into our legends and stories throughout history, across cultures. Biblically, of the seven deadly sins, three are related to our desire to feel pleasure—greed, lust, and gluttony. While I don’t believe I have a greedy nature, (and in fact lean more into equality and shared abundance for all), I have gotten myself into trouble by the lures of lust and gluttony.
Gluttony feels a bit extreme to describe my relationship with food, but in my youth and even into adulthood I struggled with unhealthy body image. I went on my first diet when I was fourteen years old, thinking at 120 lbs I was overweight simply because of my short-waisted, bulgy-belly body shape. It was a 10-day fast recommended by a chubby friend, requiring I drink only a jug of water seasoned with cayenne, a dollop of maple syrup, and a celery stir-stick. I fainted at the mall and fell down our stairs that led to the basement at home (luckily they were carpeted, unlike the hard tile floor at The Bay). I lost ten pounds in ten days, only to gain it all back soon after I returned to normal eating patterns, plus an additional five for good measure.
My battle with body image and food was exasperated by childbirth, my bulgy-belly further disfigured with what I described then as ant-farm stretchmark tracks. I tried the grapefruit diet. I went on Weight Watchers. I went to the gym. When I was diagnosed with Type I Diabetes, I never imagined it would have anything positive to offer me, but it did improve my relationship with food, now a source of carbohydrates to be counted and converted into appropriate insulin doses. I still worried about my weight and was still slightly vain about wanting to have a beautiful, desirable body, but in my late 30s I finally came to my senses and gave up dieting for good. Now I embrace my body’s natural weight fluctuations, that usually occur for me when I’m under stress. I am mindful about eating nutritious foods and exercising (i.e.: cautious). I accept myself as I am, with love. Which leads in nicely to my next vice; lust.
By my nature I’m more likely to substitute the word love for lust, but nonetheless I am a romantically motivated emotional creature who delights in giving and receiving intimacy. I recall vividly my sketches in scribblers meant for spelling practice, of cartoon figures representing myself and the boy I had a crush on in grade two, our lips extended like two overly-inflated tires to bridge the gap between us with a kiss, hearts floating in the air above our heads. In grade four I flirted with a boy who captured my heart, to the detriment of a dear friendship with a girl who held similar longings for him. I knew she was as much in love with him as I, but when we were alone on the swing set after school I couldn’t resist kissing his cheek.
When I reflect on my love journey, what stands out is how messed up my relationships with men have been. I was called frigid in grade five by the most popular boy, then a slut in grade nine for kissing a boy at a school dance in the bleachers. The summer after grade ten I was set up by a girl who was jealous of me. She invited to a party out at her farm, slipped drugs into my beer, then dragged me by the feet into an old tool shed where a boy I’d rejected raped me.
I felt deep sorrow over the conflict between the truth of my innocent, trusting and naïve nature and my reputation, given to me because of my inability to discern perpetrators. My hedonistic pursuit of love without caution didn’t end there. My lustful leanings combined with sexual traumas led me to become sexually active way, way, way, before I was ready. I ended up pregnant in grade twelve, a single mother at the age of seventeen. You might wonder, dear reader, how I could still be so trusting and unable to discern, but I was. My insecurities and my desire for my little girl to have a father led me to choose a husband I thought was sent from God who turned out to be another fraud; charming on the surface, abusive behind closed doors.
I know, it’s heavy. And I thank you for bearing witness. The good news is that I did learn how to discern, eventually. I was forty-five when my propensity to choose duds finally stopped. It was when I started learning how to love myself. When I found the courage to leave my abuser. That’s when I met Mister. He has more integrity and character, love and virtue, generosity and kindness than anyone I’ve ever met before. Beauty for ashes, as it is written in the bible. I read in The Course of Miracles that “miracles undo the past in the present and thus release the future.” I know this to be true, because my relationship with Mister is living proof.
And so I come to the end of my musings and the conclusion that I am still a hedonist who is lured by the many pleasures in life, but not to sleep. Instead, I am a cautious hedonist, better able to discern, more attuned and trusting in my intuition than ever. I exercise careful forethought through my mindfulness practice, and while I enjoy the sensory pleasures in life, I am not lured into excess or into snake pits of dishonesty and disguise. Take heart, dear reader, until next week.
COMING UP…
Books & Projects:
· In December 2025 I signed a contract with Austin Macauley Publishers for my manuscript, The Trials of Alex Anderson, a character-driven novel that explores the relationship between mental illness and trauma. I am now on the road to publication, with an expected release date near the end of 2026. In February I worked with designers on the cover and its near completion. Last week I received the proofread manuscript for my review. Things are happening! I’ll be posting regular updates here on my blog and on social media, so stay tuned for exciting new developments.
· The Rogue Scorpion is available online at Amazon, Chapters-Indigo, and Barnes & Noble. You can also find it at select Chapters-Indigo and El Hombre de la Mancha bookstores.
Reviews & Interviews:
· You can read, listen, or watch a large selection of reviews and interviews on my website.
Events:
· There are no events currently scheduled in my calendar.
YouTube Channel:
· Watch The Rogue Scorpion trailer.