The Price of Entry to Arousal

Arousal demands an offering—the admission of desire. Most of us feel it at a level 10 but barely express a 1. We suppress it, then wonder why anxiety grips us. That unspoken energy churns inside, restless and unresolved.  

Arousal, however, lubricates expression. What once seemed impossible to say suddenly flows. “I’ve been thinking about you for years,” spills out effortlessly. And then, shame creeps in: What was I thinking? I can’t go back. That moment is the threshold—where you choose to stay in arousal or retreat from it.  

This is why arousal is both powerful and vulnerable. Those who feel the most are also the most threatened. It takes courage to stay open, especially in a world that fears deep feeling. Like those who have encountered Jesus, those who’ve touched arousal carry a presence that unsettles others.  

People pray for temperance, hoping to control desire. But temperance isn’t self-imposed—it arrives when something greater enters your heart. Arousal, like grace, ends grasping not by suppression, but by fulfillment.  

It’s one thing to repress desire. It’s far worse to express it and then renounce it. That kind of self-betrayal does deep harm. Some play with these ideas carelessly, but real interdependence teaches us what true harm is—and how to avoid unnecessary suffering.  

Carrying arousal is a responsibility. Not a burden, but a calling, an art, a practice, an offering. Not everyone knows how to play. But for those who do, it is the most exhilarating force on earth.