i’m not sure where i am going today with this today. There is a lot on my mind, a lot on my soul.
Yesterday, it started to emotionally snowball. No reason why though lots of little things are playing a part. In about two weeks, i will return to pack my things in Florida and then come home to Her. And this is good, it is as it should be.
i am more sure of coming home to Her than i have ever been of anything before.
Every time it crosses my mind that i face three weeks without waking up next to her, i tense and have to remind myself to refocus on the now, for that is all anyone has anyway.
i am a person who has strong desires to give thanks to people who have helped me on my journey in life and like to start new paths without leaving loose, unthanked ends. There are friends to see, of course. But i don’t mean that. There are people i needed to distance myself from and while that was the right thing- the only thing- to do- i still wish i could reach out in some way in gratitude. And then there are people that while i wish them well, i prefer to do it from a great distance. i have no control there.
In a dream i saw myself in the big leather chair in the livingroom, with my knees drawn up and my arms wrapped around them, absently staring at nothing and twisting a ring, searching for her without words.
A part of my childhood hopes was to have a mate who served as a spirtual head of the family. i did not recognize that having this would create a longing unlike anything else.
Life does not ever get in the way of who we are, as Master and slave. i do not recognize that point of view, as this is who we are and not what we do. Life does not get in the way of Her being my priest,in the sense of Sir Raven being the one who engages me spritually and helps protect me. i do notice, however, that when life gets in the way of our joining to vent our baser instincts….i feel disconnected. Not from Her, no. From my Self.
The physical pain mounts, exhaustion builds, and i feel less authentically me. i feel less grace and less kindness for myself and experience a kind of edge, one that i work at because while i understand i formed it long ago to protect myself, it is not needed now.
i could of course, go to Sir Raven and beg her to hurt me, the only thing that lets me resurface again. i do not because our days have been long, full of many obligations and knowing her exhaustion i do not care to add to it with needing anything.
Beyond this, i’m quite sure she knows. i note that at a two week point without the physical manifestation of her power, i experience the intense need again and there are times its just not convenient to be me. i think i am fine and then it just rises up and smacks me over the head. Sometimes showing up in my behavior.
There are things, elementary things, that i slipped at last week. These things make me rather furious at myself, because i certainly know better. i don’t understand where it comes from or why or what it means. More anger, as i dislike those things that i do not understand. i find i cannot quite forgive myself.
Sir Raven is far more tolerant and forgiving of me than i am of myself and i well imagine that there is a lesson there. But this week, i’m focused on some other lesson, one about worth and value.
It is hard for me to accept being spoiled. And she spoils me often. The most expensive things i own, besides my Grandmother’s ring that i don’t wear (it’s too fancy for me), have come from Sir Raven. She bought me this insanely expensive pair of boots that literally made me feel sick to my stomach when i learned their price. i asked her to not tell me, in fact. She calmly ticked off the practical reasons for needing them here and then dismissively mentioned their price, knowing that i would have a hard time accepting that she wanted them for me. i had to swallow down my desire to ask her if she was sure, to ask her to return them. Instead, i put them on and paraded around the apartment demonstrating her points about how i could move faster and in greater comfort.
i kept thinking of the Cinderella story and how much i disliked it.
i could mount an argument from the feminist perspective of a laundry list of why i loathed the fairy tale.
Or i could admit to having been called Cinderella in life, in jokes that were not funny. My mother said it, with a note of approval, and it bothered me to deal with the sure knowledge and acceptance of who i am. Years later it was said in that same joking tone by a woman who should have known better, a woman who told me she wanted me to feel like a princess as i worked past exhaustion to please her. My worth was tied up in those things, the work i could do flawlessly and without complaint. The second go round, noting that this woman hit the same nerves as my mother, made me deal with learning how to not become emotionally spent in the process and how to walk away.
Sir Raven tells me, in ways tangible and not, that she values my work. But my work is not my worth. It is more the other way around. My worth is in my proud acknowledgement that i am a slave, that i have grace and power and worth as a woman. My work is only a by product of this and not how i should measure myself because my perfectionistic nature will always get caught up in wanting to do more, give more. i don’t need to decide those things any longer. It is not my place.
Cinderella is a girl who was treated as a slave by her ruthless family and escaped to become a princess with a glass slipper.
jade is a girl who escaped her ruthless families to become the slave she always was inside and gets treated like a princess in her fancy boots and fancy new clothes from Old Navy.
i wear those boots while i run all over the place in an endless and joyful day of errands the following day, and think about my worth to her, trying to accept it, trying to make it as comfortable as the Tims are. She defines my worth in ways that i would have never considered for myself. It’s huge for a girl like me who has always been greatful for everything i had in life, no matter what is was.
i learned things about my worth from the bags of second hand clothes bought throughout my former life on the dollar day only. i had not thought so….and pushed back against the idea…..but if i had not then the idea of so much fuss made by Sir Raven would not have been such a multi-layered lesson in accepting.
She defines me, adornes me, takes care of me, protects me.
i am learning to accept.