August, and Everything After…

i came here in mid-July.  She says it took a bit for me to settle down into the structure and the peace.  Everything came together, maybe, by August.  i had a perhaps unrealistic idea that i would come back from Florida unscathed.  As Sir Raven said, that we would walk through the threshold together, and everything else would fade away.

Instead, i came back home to her sick and exhausted.  Spent.  Weary.

i am working, daily, to let go of those things.  It occurs to me that i feel that i have failed her in some manner to have not returned the same as i left.  i am the same person, of course, just a bit more tired.

Sir Raven says i am to return to those things that i did before which focused me and pleased her.  The normal routines of cooking, cleaning,  laundry, meditations, yoga.  And of course, i am doing all of those things with reasonable competence.  i have needed more rest as i’m still feeling a bit ill and unfortunately so is she.  Indeed, Sir Raven had to come home early from work yesterday.  i warmed up some homemade chicken noodle soup and sat with her awhile watching silly movies and laughing.  We tease each other constantly.  i was sitting at her feet with her arms wrapped around me, content beyond measure.  We were speaking of our age difference, which i hardly really notice.  She makes her voice mock-stern, and says, “jade, when people ask how old you are, you are to tell them that you don’t know.”

i am absently pulling up my knee socks, smile sweetly, and respond, “Shall i tell them to ask my Daddy?”

She cuddles me closer and we laugh.  “It’s no secret that i have a father fixation,” i point out.  She asks what i mean by that and i irreverently explain that i’m still pissed off about being promised a pony and diamonds that i never received by my utterly absent biological father.  Damn him.

On a more serious note…i am thinking that i need to work on some art.  i am also trying to take more care to write here….so that i am not living too much inside of my own head.  i need to keep myself open for her, despite the stuff opened up from my trip and my feelings of uncertainty of how to handle needing to distance myself from people who do not share Sir Raven’s goals.  i am certain of the need for distance, just not sure how to create and sustain that without causing consequences.  More and more though, i am thinking that those consequences are not my concern.

Last night, i lay awake a long time.  My thoughts were tangled and racing.  Part of it is just the stupid Christmas season.  Sir Raven doesn’t celebrate the holiday, which makes me feel both a bit sad and also relieved.  She would allow me to and has made that point clear.  i just cannot see the point of it, just as i wouldn’t see the point of celebrating Christmas alone if i was single.  This will be the fourth year i have cringed and ignored the season as best i could.  Time is such a strange thing that it seems impossible that it’s been four years since that last Christmas with my nephews, the children of my heart.  Three years since i saw my mother, for the last time, on Christmas day.  In a foreshadowing i could not have guessed then, i bought her a beautiful scrapbook.  i had put a lot of work into it, leaving the last several pages blank so she might enjoy adding to the book.  Another box contained a scrapbook i made for my Grandmother’s memorial earlier that month.  i bought her some other things but i can’t remember what.  It doesn’t really matter anymore.

Christmas time makes me feel something akin to lonely.  i don’t experience that emotion often and don’t do it well.  It always, irrationally, felt like the entire rest of the world was normal and happy while my family had to use drugs and get drunk to avoid how fucking bad it all felt.  Even when everything looked right….nothing felt right.  i was the sober one.  Wrapping gifts and trying to cajole everyone to get along for just one day.  Weary.  Frightened.  Exhausted.  No matter what i had bought or cooked or decorated, it never felt like enough.  And then there was the expectation that i manage to conjur up the appropriate level of emotion for gifts.  Some of them were nice, every year.  Some of them embarrased me, because my mother had a fondness for choosing jewelry that was gaudy and i hate gaudy.  i’m simple.  Quiet.  i hated the fake diamond cluster rings.  Not because it was not real diamonds but because it was so obvious that the gift was about her and not me.

As a “family” though, we did  nearly enjoy being rebels.  We decorated the tree one year to the sounds of “The Happy Hooker” and i even had a sip out of the Jack Daniels, right out of the bottle.  i just couldn’t do anything but laugh anymore.  Norman Rockwell, we weren’t.  Someone put on Counting Crows Album, “August, and everything After.”  Its basically the soundtrack to my life.

So, maybe it all fits.  This background noise in my head.  The familiar Florida feelings of fear, anxiety, exhaustion.  Coupled with the Christmas decorations, the declarations that i should have stayed longer to decorate for Christmas “together as a family.”  Coupled with the feelings that nothing feels right, even knee deep in their twenty boxes of Christmas decor being transported to their other house.

Here.  Home.  Quiet, peaceful, relaxed.  No yelling and no drama and no fear.  And, also, no Christmas.  Funny….nothing “looks right” but everything feels right here.

The bits of emotional residue are fading away because i’m not holding them down with the weight of not wanting to feel this stuff.  Yet, feeling it reminds me that these things are about another life.  Not this one.  Letting the feelings come and go makes them drift away, like clouds.  It’s the attempt to hold them down that does the damage.

Hopefully, Sir Raven will feel like using me soon.  When she asked, in jest, “What kind of slave are you?” i answered, “the kind who hasn’t had her ass beat in a month.  i’m surprised i’m not frothing at the mouth.”  Sounding a bit weary, she said she was getting there herself.  We need to bond in that way again.  i need to let go into her~ and have her let go into me.

i am nervous about it.  Nevous because i skipped over want and arrived at the need place with such intensity that it is there, in every thought, every heart beat.  i need to demonstrate how i will suffer because i’m hers.  i want to be able to give her everything and it is odd, hard, to not feel like i need to sift through myself and try to figure out what it is that is right to offer.  This thing–its different.  i don’t want to control it, any part of it.  That includes me working through some stuff so i can let it flow, let it float.  And just be.

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Thoughts on “Inner Work”….

Reading Sir Raven’s last post gave me pause.  Specifically, her statement that i had “relapsed” hit me hard.  It is true and i will not deny its truth.  i’m working hard to not feel shame that i resorted to dealing with my feelings in Florida by not eating right.  i worked my ass off to not get numb or lost.  i refused to be dragged into people’s petty arguments, not about to have anyone able to point to me and proclaim (after poking me with a proverbial stick) “See how bad jade is!”

i also struggle with a lifetime of difficulty in expressing emotions.

This one is very tricky.  My face is very expressive normally and so are my eyes.  Still, there are many times in life that i have trouble expressing the equivalent emotion of what other people are expressing.  Not that other people should be a barometer of how i should feel or express those feelings.  That is not really what i am saying.  Its more that there are times that a person is showing a tremendous amount of pain or rage and i am silent.  Stony.  Or speaking in a near whisper.  And the other person can feel hurt or angry or as if i do not care about them or the gravitas of the situation.  This is never the case but that gets lost in translation as i carefully hold back.

i express graditude every single day.  i express joy daily.  Sir Raven says that i’m like a good baby, always happy.  So its not those things.  It is more that i have a hard time expressing emotions related to anger or sadness.  i will calmly say what i am feeling but i cannot necessarily get my face to match.  i cannot make myself cry.

So…when Sir Raven says i have had a relapse….a part of what she is speaking of is that i hoarded emotions.  She understands and even appreciates that i did not unload all of the Florida stuff on her.  While we are transparent with each other, she requires emotional work/talking to be done in small chunks.  When she has ingested enough to become upset, she will halt my speech and expects me to stop right then.  Intellectually, i can see its a good practice to deal with things in chunks.  Emotionally, i’m female, and i have to speak a lot to figure out how i am feeling and feel a strong need to represent exactly what someone said or did.  So i often include more detail than what Sir Raven would like to hear.  She understands this practice, because she does the same thing for many of the same reasons.  But she still doesn’t like it.  i can shut down a bit at times, unable to figure out what is going on without talking it all of the way through and finding it draining to start talking and then need to abruptly stop.  i try to work to figure things out on the inside better before i talk to her, out of respect for how she deals with issues of an emotional nature outside of her direct control.

i’m dealing.  First off, i’m feeling much better.  Much less sick.  Much less drained.  And i’m waking up inside again.  i’m aware that i’m getting very needy for her but i am unsure.  To begin with, my normal response to stressors is that i have an immediate need or want of S/m.  That did not happen this time.  When there was a party in the dungeon, i went in for awhile, and felt my head starting to get fuzzy from the sounds of a strap harshly applied along with the woman’s moaning.  i felt myself flinch from the sound and the quiet, clear thought that followed sent me reeling from the dungeon.

i need to be made clean, to let go.

A strap does exactly that.  i cannot eroticize it in any capacity.  i have no control over how i receive it.  It forces me to let go.

i’m not there yet, not there in a place where i can bring myself to ask for what i hate.  i lack the words to explain the whys.  i wonder, though, if she has not had similar thoughts.

The other day, Sir Raven pointed out that i had accidently left the scrub brush out after i had finished with the floors.  We went to bed and she pointed out that i had also left the fabric refresher sitting out on her dresser.  i was already in bed, halfway up to take care of it, as i asked her if she was really going to make me get up to put it away.  Which is a rather silly question, as i was already in motion to take care of it.  On the way to place it under the kitchen sink, where it belongs, i impulsive sprayed her with it.  The energy went from playful to something else as she said she should give me the strap for that.

i blew it off, teased her, expressed my confidence that she wouldn’t do it.  Or, at least, not for that. 

In this house, the strap is reserved for punishment only.  So its never been joked about.  i responded to her joking with bringing it up myself in a nonchalant, childish, i’m-not-afriad-of-you way.  Which is totally false.  i’m afraid not just of the strap itself but what it would mean that i had finally gone so far away from her path that she felt it was needed to bring me back.

Her words, that i have relapsed, make me wonder if that is what i have done.

And i know me.  i know that by the time a person feels they need to have a Discussion with me, i’m generally way too far gone to see whatever i am doing is not correct.  After that kind of a beating, my willfull behavior is something i can see clearly, acknowledge fully.  Maybe its because my wall has been ripped down.  Maybe its because i have already paid for it in full and can just move forward.  i don’t know.

What i do know for sure is that i need this life.  i need Her.  i need every part of me to belong to her.  i need my everything to reflect what is pleasing to her.  i need to be hers, in thought, word, and deed.

i have upset the balance of energies that was here before i left.  The easy way we moved through the day.  There is some small undercurrent still and i’m trying to figure out what it is.  And i’m struggling a bit.

We have both mentioned a time or ten that we talk about everything.  We have never thought to mention at least one day of her time off of work and a few nights a week, i fall quiet.  Sometimes silent.  It is mostly a way for me to give back to her,  knowing how hard she works and how precious quiet and peace can be.  i remember being so exhausted from teaching that i could not stand to hear myself say one more word some days.  Sometimes, though, i’m thinking about big things like i am today.  Big things that i feel a responsibility to try and wrestle with, figure out, alone first before i bring it to her.

At this point, i want to wave it all away.  Just move forward.  Just let go.  i just don’t seem to be doing that right.

 

Inner Work

The girl is back and. I would like to say that all was right in the world with her arrival of stepping through the door, but alas it wasn’t  We stayed up late talking a bit and just sitting with each other, that’s what I like best, that we can sit and be quite with each other lost in our own thoughts without the noise. She felt different and what I thought and mentioned to some was true. She had a total relapse. Her energy was different; she looked tense, and worn down nothing like she did when she was here. All the work we both have done was gone in a matter of 8 days, it’s said that God created the world in 7, so it would stand to reason that someone could try to destroy someone’s world in 8 with bullshit.

This got me thinking, it’s a shame that people grow up from being a child but never become adults. It’s not our fault; we are not taught how to be. As children we are taught that girls do this, and boys do this. We are taught if lucky some home training. We are taught all these little things that hopefully will cumulate into us becoming an adult. We are taught to be responsible, hard working, and providers. But we are not taught the inner workings of how to be a better human being, which in turn would make us better at being an adult. Instead we grow up (and by that I mean we are not crawling or toddlers or young adults, our body grows up until it’s done growing). And so we are stuck relying on the example of when we were children. The play ground, Jr. high school or high school, and it shows.

So imagine my surprise when we talked and I mentioned that I could give less than a rat’s ass about what the people in FL thought. I can understand her point; she thinks its un-necessary energy being projected towards us. I get that, I really do, but I’m not going to allow the actions of folks 5 hours away to continue to control her actions, nor mine. As I told her what they eat doesn’t make me shit. After that statement I realized I had to stop and take a couple of deep breathes. We don’t raise our voices at each other, we don’t scream when we disagree to get our point across. As I told a friend there is no screaming in my house unless the house is on fire.  🙂  I realized it wasn’t her but that fact that sitting across from her I could see, she looked worn the hell out from 8 days. 8 days of her being stuck for 4 of those days with children who are in their 50s, who are passive aggressive and bullies, who are so fake, and believe they are always the victim. For me part of being an adult is doing the inner work, if you are always the victim you may want to look at yourself. But we are taught it’s not us it’s always something outside of us. That’s why we are not happy, that’s why we can get along with others.

Being an adult is hard work, having a talk with another master, she pointed out to me that this path we are on is hard and is not for everyone. I would add that walking this earth trying to be an adult is just as hard, especially when you are the adult in the playground.

I have had some glimpse of being an adult from people in my life, where they have done something, like disagree and stated why they disagreed even though they were being hit over the head to go along with everyone else.  For me being an adult means I may not have many friends, but the friends I have will do. I may not be liked because I have a mind, and it’s mine not to be controlled by the masses, being just as happy by myself or with my girl.

We don’t have any models of people who are adults, and in this dynamic there is even less models of power exchange relationship. The ones I have been blessed to have in my life all will say the same thing if you ask them, “this dynamic is hard work, what would you like to know specifically?” And they would reach out their hand to help you, but you have to be willing to reach out yours and do the adult thing.

Which is the inner work.

As not to have to scrape this post, let me say, that before I hit the publish button, I pulled out my trusty dictionary to look up the words adult and grown up. And it’s no wonder we don’t know what the frack an adult is. The definition for both are as vague as the word vague. I do hope that my intent makes at least some sense? 

Thinking Outloud

1.  We had our discussion, which was reasonable.  When she finished speaking, she said something acknowledging that i was quietly accepting.  We discussed money and creating a budget, resulting in me going through my past bank statements online to figure out an average of what was being spent and where and ways we can make some adjustments.  This is strange for me as i generally just hand over whatever money i have and accept what happens.  It is different here because, ironically, i make more independent decisions.  i observe what the house needs and buy it.  i decide what i’m cooking, unless she has a particular request.  i run everything by her and for about six weeks saved all receipts so she had a good concept of specifically what i was doing.

Unfortunately, she isn’t with me for “my” (scant amount of) money.  To me, the word fair means “everyone gets what they need.”  Until we are talking about money because i resent the hell out of the fact that i can’t pay at least half of everything.  Sir Raven, on the other hand, couldn’t care less really.  Or, to be more precise, she cares that i have what i need whether that means medicine or household supplies.  And she expects me to be able to ask for what i need rather than what i have done before in life, like rationing/skipping my meds or living off of coffee.  It is surprisingly difficult for me to ask for money, which is nonsensical.  Her main point of the discussion was about me not asking for what i need and the expectation that this will change.

2.  i’m still not feeling very well but it’s vital that i get back to my schedule.  Fortunately, i finished my class yesterday and have three days to work on the house and get some extra rest while i make myself return to yoga, pilates, meditations, etc.  We are looking into buying some steamer trunks for storage and seating.  🙂  Steamer trunks are *awesome.*  i like the ones she picked out the best but i found some better deals.  So we’ll see.

3.  This deserves it’s own post perhaps but i would just wax eloquent on how i adore her.  So i’ll just say this.  i keep thinking of the beautiful email i came home to.  Not every girl gets her own Mr. Darcy.  i told her happily about my friend’s wedding and collaring,  and i mentioned that they chose a bracelet.  It locks but resembles a fancy watch band and even someone looking for a “tell” would never guess anything with the bracelet.  And in true Mr. Darcy fashion, she says, in a nonchalant way, that a bracelet is a great way to handle it.  For whatever reason, Sir Raven is anti obvious collars.  (i happen to think this is because i shared once that my first thought upon ever seeing a woman wearing a collar was, “she looks loved.”)  Anyhow, i prefer to not be running around Manhattan sporting a thick leather collar myself, frankly, unless we were going to some event or something.  Anyhow, she had been wearing a different bracelet when i came home for days and i noticed it was off her when i held out my cupped hands to put her other bracelets back in her jewelry box.  It’s jade and quite beautiful.  Sheepishly, Sir Raven said she tried to put it on me while i was sleeping but couldn’t get it on.  When i held it in my hands, it was still warm with her energy.  Slipping it on feels like living with her elegant, strong hands wrapped around my wrist.  Warm.  Safe.  Beautiful.

4.  i had to laugh when Sir Raven posted about our nocturnal talks.  i have not ever asked why the sky is blue but we have talked about the womb’s connection to the Goddess and also about Destiny.  Yep.  Yesterday, we talked about the concept of loyalty and how some might think that is the most important factor in a relationship.  Being Italian, i can understand that line of thinking except for the fact that i have been loyal to people who did not deserve it, whose motives i could not respect.  To our way of thinking, i can be a slave to someone i don’t love but i cannot with someone i don’t fundamentally respect or trust.  Respect, trust, and loyalty are the needed ingredients for me and for us.  Sir Raven said, for her, its about mutual trust, my obedience, and mutual loyalty.  Note that for both of us trust and loyalty go both ways.  On a basic, human level, Sir Raven does respect me and i think she respects slaves in general because she understands that its a hard calling.

5.  If you ever want to do a real trust exercise, have your Owner cut your hair.  😛

Seriously.  She wanted me to go to some beauty salon or something but i thought it was silly to spend 30 dollars to have someone cut off a few inches of hair.  It is naturally curly, you can’t really screw that up.  Its so heavy and thick that cutting off a few inches makes your head feel lighter and it curls up tight.  My hair used to be down to my ass for years.  Now its at about my mid-back but looks a lot shorter.  i’m seriously cheap when it comes to stuff like this as i have little patience for beauty stuff.  i pay friends to do my hair.  i have paid for a number of mani/pedis but only started that in the last year and the main reason was that i can’t do these things for myself.

6.  We also talked about the concept of “deal breakers.”  Sir Raven asked me what mine were and though i have some- in general-  none those things don’t apply to her.  She laughed and pointed out, “Don’t say  stupid stuff you know I won’t do….like scat or children.”  i thought for a long moment and said, finally, “You wouldn’t do any of those things, which is why i can sit at your feet now.”  She has the right to push me to do any damn thing she wants, provided she is going to deal with any issues from it.  i believe she would take care of me because we spent time learning each other.  Watching each other.  Making sure that what we said matched what we do.  This went a long way in terms of building trust needed to build a life together.  i think that people often only pay close attention to what a person says….rather than devoting the time to see if what they do matches.  i am blessed to serve a person who has Honor and who gave me time to trust.  i am blessed because she looks for the ways i obey and seeks to understand when i am slow to obey.  i am blessed.

 

Follow Your Bliss

Greetings from the Chaise Lounge and “Super Soul Sunday.”

i woke up first and waited, in a miserable stupor, for the meds to kick in.  Finally, i hear Sir Raven from the bedroom, her voice groggy, “jade, coffee.”  She waited a few minutes, evidently satisfied that the nectar of life was brewing and called me to her.

i have to crawl up into the bed, which is why she calls it my crib.  Actually, words related to me are often infantalized, including when she mocks my speech in a baby voice.  Anyhow…

i crawl up into the bed and her firm hands vigorously rub me and tangle in handfuls of my loose hair.  It is such a perfect way to wake up and might be part of why i love Sundays.

We have coffee in silence.  By habit and custom, i don’t speak to her until i am invited to.  It’s companionable quiet.  Often, she plays soft music and we meditate.

While she is on the phone, i made a simple breakfast of eggs, turkey bacon, and hashbrowns.  Though i had no appetite, i made myself eat.  Last night, after a lot of other talking, we discussed how i’m not really eating and wasn’t really eating in Florida.  It disgusts me how easily i backslide into old controlling behaviors.  Not eating….and also shoving a do nought into my mouth in one untasted bite….has really nothing to do with food.  Its a strong and sure signal that i’m out of balance and feeling out of control.  Which, by default, means Sir Raven isn’t in control and she has been patient with that for about as long as she is going to.

She wasn’t delighted to come home to a feverish, miserable me one day this week when the report from my day was that i had essentially done nothing.  It’s not that she is insensitive to me being sick necessarily but she is used to me pushing through that to get done what needs to be done for her.  i let us run out of vital things, like white wine….which qualifies as an emergency in her mind.  Frankly, i don’t blame her for getting annoyed with me.  Sick or not, i am a slave and she did give me a quiet day when i got back.

Fortunately, i sort of sheepishly attempted to redeem myself yesterday.  i’m rewarded with a hug instead of her steeling herself to not overreact like the day before.  She even waited a few hours to ask about meditation and yoga and eating and water drinking.  Like a lot of other things, i go all hedonistic without someone to point out that it is time to go to bed.  Or eat something.  i can take care of myself….and i do….its just….well…different….without structure.

i imagine that all of this is going to come up in the Discussion for today.  Hence, my pre-emptive acknowledgements last night.  i’m hoping that wine is forthcoming because the word  Discuss around here means i have just made things harder on myself than i had to.  i don’t know that i have the emotional where-with-all to calmly and quietly accept whatever she has already decided.  i certainly hope so….because…..really…..it is my purpose.  My inner child is poised to react badly and i’m trying to down enough caffeine and cold medicine to approximate a pleasant demeanor.

If all else fails, i have my lipstick nearby.  Sir Raven speaks in the careful, precise wording generally reserved for a small child, when she says, “I must insist, jade, if you are going to pout or snarl you must do it wearing lipstick.”  Yeah.  Roger that.  Though, actually, i can add that to the list of things i have been out of the habit of doing because she cares what i look like more than i do.

Today, Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday reminds me how we really die inside when we don’t follow our bliss.  This life…..every moment…..is my bliss.

The Liebster Award

I am finally back home and my feet are starting to hit the ground.  Just writing that, i felt myself exhale with relief.  Let’s see….i came home with two suitcases and a carry on.  Okay, okay, technically Sir Raven is correct when she says i came home with 3 suitcases but really one fit inside Jet Blue’s teeny-tiny overhead bin so i am sure that it doesn’t really count.  Right?

My adopted auntie helped me pack and kept exclaiming, “Jade!  This is what a normal woman packs for two weeks….not for starting their life over!” as i bemoaned that i was taking too much stuff.  Actually, i enjoyed the time i spent with her a great deal.  She is really funny and truly is the colorful auntie i never had.  i ended up surupticiously packing during the day and nights when i couldn’t sleep because she would have sent me back with ten suitcases if she saw all of the goods i donated.  One box was stuffed animals and trinkets and a blanket with cupcakes all over it.  Its not that those things didn’t matter but more that they need to find a new home with another little girl.

i found a few bombshells that i had neither the time or energy to properly deal with other than a quiet prayer and unceremoniously dumping into the garbage.  i gave away most of the things i loved the most to the people i loved the most there.  i was also really happy to donate a few boxes of clothes and little girl things because i’ve been blessed to receive and know how happy someone will be.  Most of it was too big or things Sir Raven would not be pleased to see me in.  i have another full bag sitting at my feet as i write this, waiting to be donated.  i cannot see the point in keeping things Sir Raven doesn’t like.

Plus, i am truly a minimalist.  Organized.  i kept almost nothing out on my dressers or bedside tables.  A simple jewelry box from Sir on one, a candle on another.  So different from Sir Raven’s place….which is cheerfully lived in and looks it.  The opposite of that spraling house with clean lines everywhere.  It both appealed to me and brought out my neurotic, clean-freak side.  So, anyhow, i was quite busy between trying to clean the huge house, pack, and enjoy my auntie and friends.

i literally arrived home and went running right out on errands Monday.  Sir Raven had time to tweak a bunch of stuff while i was gone and had a bunch of nice surprises in the way of a shoe rack on the bedroom door and a better way to organize stuff in the bathroom.  Tuesday she was home and i spent the whole day gazing over at her with joy and relief that was nearly overwhelming.  Wednesday i scrubbed the house and did laundry, as i was not permitted to work at all Tuesday and instead had to follow orders to relax on my chaise.  Thursday we spent a quiet day at home and i was glad of it as i was starting to feel really sick.  i spent all of yesterday curled in a ball on the chaise and started taking some antibiotic.  Today was better.  i wrote two papers and took my test so i’m about done with this class.  i have a chicken roasting in the oven and wine chilling.  i have worn myself out trying to catch up with everything due today.  i’m looking forward to a day of rest tomorrow.  Sunday is my favorite day of the week when we stay home and look at “Super Soul Sunday” and enjoy each other.

This week has passed so fast when time in Florida seemed to stand still.

So…between illness and catch up….i have been amiss in much.  Sir Raven has informed me that we will be having a discussion tomorrow which has not happened in quite some time.  i have not gotten back on schedule yet and let things go.  Like eating.  Or meditating.  Yoga.

So….onto a happier thought….the Liebster Award.  Many thanks to my dear friend Aisha, for thinking of us.  i’m going to try and follow the rules but most of the blogs i read already have over 200 followers so i’m not sure what i am to do about that part.

11 Random Facts about Us:

1.  We sleep holding hands.

2.  We are both introverts.

3.  i have naturally curly hair and am left handed.

4.  Sir Raven loves bowties.

5.  We are both artists.

6.  I love the ocean.  She hates the sand.

7.  We laugh every day.

8.  i admire her in too many ways to count.

9.  i used to be a teacher.

10.  Sir Raven has friendships that span decades.

11.  Sometimes, we share dreams…literally.

 

 

1.  Who was your most important role model?

My mother, though she was often a role model of who i never wanted to be.

2.  What’s your favorite meal?

Mine? Sushi.  Hers?  Maybe my homemade lasagna?

3.  What one food would you NEVER eat?

me: Balls.  i cannot even watch that show with the disgusting foods in it but the idea of eating animal balls makes me gag.

4. What do you like best about being kinky?

Both of us:  prob. control.  For me, the trust that comes from giving up control.

5. Do you have a hobby?  What is it?

We are both writers and painters.  Sir Raven also makes crafts and crochets.

6.  Is there a sexual position you haven’t tried that you’d like to?

No.

7.  When was the last time you danced with someone?

Last April, with Sir Raven, up on a stage at BL.

8.  Were you in a clique in high school?  Which one?

No.  i was a bookworm, cutting classes to read in the library.

9.  If you could live in any time era, which one would you pick, and why?

Rennisance Italy.  The concepts that created Rome are alluring.  The Roman way of life, the flowering of art and music.  And the clothes.  (hot, hot hot).

10.  Do you prefer giving or receiving oral sex?  Why?

I love giving.  Even bj’s, which always made me feel powerful.  i hate receiving, it makes me feel uncomfortable, overexposed, annoyed.  i’ve never liked receiving at all.

11.  If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Right here.  Sir Raven is home to me.

Master of all I survey

I pick the girl from the airport tomorrow; it’s been a long week apart I have to admit it took some adjustment for me. She made sure I had food in the freezer which was good; the down side was I should have read the label. That way I would not have had delouses sauce for lunch one day. Her sauce is good but it would have been even better with the lasagna she made or the noodles she left.

But I digress.

Yes she comes home and finally I will get a good night sleep, even though our nightly ritual, yep ritual is that we have deep conversations in bed. I’ll be laying there trying to sleep and she’ll ask “do you think we make our own destiny?” yep deep. I’ve made it so we go to be an hour before I’d like to because I know she’s going to want to discuss a number of things. The meaning of life, how a woman’s uterus is connected to mother earth which is in turn connected to the universal Goddess, why the sky is blue? You know all the things we could have been discussing the five or six hours since I’ve been home from work, the wonders of bed time small talk. Believe it or not this is small talk for us.

But yet again I digress.

Since she’s been gone I have given some thought about our dynamic, I’m truly blessed to have a few masters female and male as well as some slave types in my life that I can talk to. And by talk I mean talk, not the superficial shit most talk about and call deep and meaningful, that would lead them to believe they truly know you. When these people ask me” how I’m doing?” They really want to know, how I’m doing? I’ve been able to share with them some things that I haven’t worked out in my head yet and thank the Goddess I have them .I’m able to share my shit, and trust that if my shit is stinking they will call me on it, and we will still be friends(inside joke). Sharing how I was feeling about the girl going back to FL and not having control over how she would be protected from some folks there had me more nervous than a whore in church. No offense to whores, but true to form my friends put me in check. It was about control for me and it was. I can freely and you are admit that, but what I really need to focus on was, is it about me having some kind of savior complex? Hell I’ve never thought of myself as the savior type, when I was younger I had to save myself, so I had no time to try to save others. As I got older I tried to be the example of what saving oneself could be, I could point to the path I took. I wasn’t interested in dragging someone off their path no matter what it was to a path I thought they should take. Grated it might have saved them some pain, but it’s their path, their journey as it were. When they are ready to take it the only thing I could do is be there to give them a hug when they arrive. In that way we are responsible for making our own destiny. I guess I didn’t digress it was the circle of life, and all.

Last night I stayed up far too late giving this more thought after all I am the *“T” in our relationship where she is the “F”. We balance really nicely together, she reminds me to “F”eel, while I remind her to “T”hink.  So I’m up thinking about this, not really paying attention to the TV. When I did start to pay attention I realize there’s a documentary on about Sylvia Plath, because nothing brings more joy into deep though like a documentary about Sylvia Plath. The upside, yes there was an upside at least for me was that it got me to stop thinking about if I had a savior complex. When it was done at 1am I had a clear head and I came to the conclusion that I don’t have a savior complex, I have what I’ve always had even as a child, right is right, wrong is wrong complex.(which my mother called me being too sensitive, but that’s another post). I have a I hate bullies complex, an if you have to tear someone down to prop yourself and your self-esteem up and you feel you need to manifest that towards someone I care about I’m going to kick your ass complex. Don’t get me wrong, the girl has taken care of herself and I’m so proud of her for doing what she needs to do for herself. Her taking care of herself is in part serving me its part of our agreement. But I also know that some shit would not go down if we were there together. See that’s how some bullies work in this “community”, they do shit under the cover of a leather hat, or behind a title of “alpha slave.”

**Updated to add this enjoy**

But again I digress,

I pick the girl up tomorrow but for today I have to continue the tweaking I’ve started, since she’s been gone. I also should wash the dishes and make the bed, pick up my dirty socks from the floor and fix up the chaise lounge. Or I could just continue to sit here and search Pinterst while continuing my craft project only to add more pieces of paper to the floor?

After all I am the master of all I survey in our one bedroom Bronx apartment. LOL

*My personality type (which my job spent a large amount of money to access) is INTJ.

While the girl’s personality type is INFJ

Myers-Briggs type indicator