(TW: this piece talks about sex and having conversations about sex with teens. Not up for that? Cool by me! There's likely something you'd rather read in your feed so carry on.)

In my opinion, there is no place like a car for having the juiciest of juicy convos with your beloveds.

Drivers are eyes front, head on a swivel, hands at 10 and 2. The shotgun rider, if under the age of 30, plays DJ or obsessively scrolls their sports parlays searching for a payout.

Over the many years my kids and I have rolled across the hilly miles between Maryland and Upstate New York, there has been no shortage of racy chit chat.

Case in point, the deep talk my son and I had about s-e-x on a long jaunt back to the land below the Mason-Dixon Line after visiting family 2 summers ago.

For context, my kids and I have fostered a healthy ability to hash out tough topics with care, consent, and curiosity. They know they can come to me to discuss anything. They also know that I'll fess up without shame when I don't have an answer in the moment.

I've also learned that very often what they are most seeking is simply to be heard and not fixed. As a recovering mender, being silent long enough to just listen has been at times a rain-slickened rocky slope for me to climb.

But back to the sex story...

As I merged onto the Baltimore Beltway during the final hour of our 420 mile trip, my then 17 year-old shared what he'd learned about sex in health class at school.

It's the stuff educators regurgitate from standard curricula--body parts, how they work, where babies come from, STIs, safe sex practices and the like.

There is no talk about the potential yumminess of sex because, well, that's not allowed in school.

And then, SHAZAM! came the question that made me thank my lucky stars I'm a woman of calm, grounded composure while hurtling through space at 70 mph in a box on wheels:

"Mom, what's your favorite position for sex?"

Gulp.

My brain uttered an internal "Hell to the NO are we going there!"

My body advised differently.

Deep, steady breath. And another. And one more for good measure.

Wisdom from that sparkly space between my belly and my heart bubbled out of my mouth as words like these:

"Jude, that really depends on a number of things...like how my body is feeling and what my needs and desires are. Who I'm with. My mood, my partner's mood. What we've consented to. What's on the table and off. My favorite position is as fluid as the time, place, setting, and people involved."

Reflecting on this little talk about a big subject, I can say unequivocally that my answer was brilliant!

(And to think I almost didn't answer.)

A few years ago I began asking my massage therapy clients and yoga students a question few had ever been asked.

My question is a paraphrase of something my fantasy partner in debauchery Lucifer Morningstar asks humans he encounters: "How would you like to feel?"

I ask this question as my yoga students are dropping into presence with their bodies at the start of a practice.

I also ask this or a similar question to people about to receive bodywork from me.

Initially, there was a whole lot of "almost not able to answer the question" going on!

Through time and teaching the people I work with that every answer they crave is within them, I've seen a collective shift.

My clients know that with me they are allowed to say, "I am feeling X and would prefer to feel Y" and they are learning how to connect with and trust their own inner compass to answer my valid and telling ask.

Learning to trust ourselves and to really believe in our innate power is a lifelong practice.

So much of our time is spent in the stringy cobwebs of our 12 or so pound cranium that we forget about the insane potential of sourcing next steps from the other 90+% of ourselves.

If 2024 is your year to tend a more loving and trustworthy relationship with your gut feelings and those non-brain inklings, I've got you.

Bodywork and yoga are how I befriend my body and stay attuned to the glimmery feelings that propel me forward.

Bodywork and yoga are how I've learned to discern what's "right" and what's "wrong" for me.

Be it answering sticky sex questions or planning my life's next pivots, I believe that the body > the brain.

Jen (she/her)