I'm not really much of a shopper. I have to say that I'd

Hear, O seekers of intimacy and truth, the words of Kristin Davis, who spoke not with pretense but with candor of the heart: “I’m not really much of a shopper. I have to say that I’d definitely prefer good sex. What makes good sex? Oh my god. I think you need to feel free and you have to really trust the other person. And you have to have that strange, mysterious chemical connection.” In these words lies no mere jest, but a teaching as old as human longing: that true union is not about possessions or appearances, but about freedom, trust, and mystery between souls.

For she contrasts the shallow pursuit of shopping, the gathering of trinkets and garments, with the deeper pursuit of connection. Many fill their lives with things, yet remain empty within. But when two people meet in vulnerability and passion, when they strip away not only their clothing but their fear, they find something treasures cannot buy: communion. Thus, she declares openly that good sex is greater than material wealth, for it nourishes the spirit while possessions fade.

What then makes this union sacred? She names the first element: freedom. Without freedom, love is bondage, and desire becomes mere performance. To feel free with another is to cast off masks, to show one’s true self without fear of judgment. In ancient times, lovers spoke of this as liberation, the soul flying beyond its boundaries. When Antony met Cleopatra, when Abelard met Heloise, freedom of spirit gave birth to passion that defied the constraints of their worlds. To feel free in another’s presence is to feel alive.

Next, she names trust. Trust is the foundation upon which passion is built. Without it, desire is shallow and fleeting. With it, intimacy deepens, for one knows that vulnerability will not be betrayed. Think of the marriage of Martin Luther and Katharina von Bora: against a world of danger, persecution, and upheaval, their trust in each other gave them strength to endure. It was not mere flesh that bound them, but the certainty that their souls could lean upon one another.

And then she names the most mysterious of all: the chemical connection. Science speaks of pheromones, of biology, of instinct, but the ancients knew it simply as fate. It is the spark that leaps between two souls when eyes meet and hearts quicken. It cannot be forced, cannot be bought, cannot be reasoned. Tristan and Isolde drank their potion and were bound forever, but even without magic, men and women throughout time have known that some connections defy explanation. This mystery is the poetry of love, the divine fire that makes intimacy more than act—it makes it destiny.

Kristin Davis’s words remind us that intimacy, when true, is not merely physical but spiritual. It requires freedom, it demands trust, and it flourishes in that inexplicable mystery. Without these, passion is hollow; with them, it becomes transformative, lifting lovers into a communion that heals and strengthens the soul. This is why she prefers it above material things: because it is eternal in its impact, while possessions fade into dust.

O children of tomorrow, take this wisdom into your hearts. Do not chase endlessly after possessions, thinking they will satisfy your hunger. Do not mistake shallow encounters for true connection. Instead, seek the one with whom you feel free, the one you can trust, the one with whom mystery lives in every touch. When you find this, guard it, nurture it, honor it. For such a bond is not merely passion—it is medicine for the soul.

Practical is this teaching: cultivate honesty with your partner, for without honesty there is no trust. Learn to release fear, for without freedom there is no intimacy. And be patient, for the mysterious connection cannot be forced; it reveals itself in its own time. When you hold all three—freedom, trust, and mystery—you hold something greater than gold, greater than any possession: you hold the sacred fire of love. And with it, your life will be rich beyond measure.