2017 Has Begun

January 31st, 2017

I haven’t posted this month. I have reasons(excuses), but really, I just haven’t had the energy. I’ve had lots of ideas flitting through my head: in one hear, bouncing around for a few moments, and then slipping right out again before I got pen to paper. I should write things down faster, I guess. 😉

Most of my energy this month has gone to interviews, my chosen family, and politics. My gods, the politics. I don’t even want to get into all of that insanity. Not right now. Not here. I just wanted to let my readers know that I’m still here, and I’m still going to be writing.

Winter Wickedness is this weekend, and it’s the least prepared for a big event I’ve ever been. Ah well, it’ll be a casual one, I guess. I am planning on having one new outfit, possibly for the pirate theme, more likely not. We shall see how shopping goes.

With any luck, I’ll have plenty of fodder for posts next week. 🙂

 

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This Brain of Mine, it has a mind of its own

November 20th, 2016

That was not where I intended to take the previous post. But that is where it went. A lot of things have been going on, and I promised myself I would not censor this month. So, I let my fingers go where my exhausted brain directed. And I am pretty much exhausted, drained, and worn out.

But, for all of that, it has been a good weekend. I spent Friday night at the club, reaching out to teach the community about what it is that my crew offers, and helping provide a safe place for everyone to explore. I was present for a very moving Masters Capping ceremony. I got to spend time playing with him, and sharing love with my chosen family.

On Saturday, I got to spend a very nice night with my other chosen family. Sharing drinks, food, music, and laughter. As well as plenty of hugs, cuddles, kisses, nibbles, and yes, even the glitter of a metamour.  Today, there was open, honest, passionate conversation, for the coming together, and not just moving forward, but upward, towards building better things.

Work is going to suck tomorrow, but I spent the weekend doing what I love, with those that I love. Every minute, every smile, and every tear was worth it.

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Missing Days

November 18th, 2016

I keep missing days. This week has been especially bad for it. Stress and life keep be busy and distracted. Two jobs, a busy social schedule, and making/eating way too much food due to the above. I made a pretty decent dinner last night – chicken, veggies, and potatoes. All good. But then I made half an apple crisp (bread pan, not brownie pan)… and ate it all. Halloween was three weeks ago, but I’ve been eating chocolate almost every day since. And not just at work, but buying chocolate when my Mom visited, too. Bags of dark chocolate bark – on almonds and one pretzels. Delicious, I’ve gotta slow down, get back to dessert once a week. Unfortunately, we’re heading into the holidays – Thanksgiving next week, and Advent and Christmas after. And work is planning a “dessert potluck” at the beginning of December – as if we don’t have enough cakes and cookies there already. I may need to get a different job just to get away from all the sweets, let alone for financial reasons.

So, I’m missing days of writing, because I let myself get distracted. I moving so quickly through life, going from one thing to the next, that when I sit down at night, I just want to shut off. I’m feeling more forgetful, too. Leaving things places. Not remembering reminders I’ve been asked to give him. I put stuff in my phone, but it’s a flip-phone, so I have to remember to dig into the note file to see what I’m supposed to remember. It’s almost as bad as the Remembrall from Harry Potter.

None of this is helping all the feelings of insecurity and uncertainty. I try to set schedules to create a feeling of stability – but my body overrides it more than not. A job with flexible hours is great, but trying to convince an exhausted body to go in when I “really don’t have to” is, at times, impossible. I do better going when someone Else is expecting me (my regular boss, him, the gaming guys). Same way I am with studying. Sure, I love learning new things, but unless someone else is expecting an assignment turned in, I don’t prioritize it.

I’ve spent most of my life focused on making other people happy. Living up to the expectations of my parents, my teachers, my bosses, even my boyfriends. He has been very good at helping me remember to put some focus on myself, on creating health and happiness for me. But even that has an outward focus half the time – “cannot serve from an empty cup.” It isn’t for me, it’s so I can serve him. We often talk about how someone with a serious problem won’t change just because you want them to change. They have to want to change themselves.

Change is hard. I’ve made a lot of changes in my life over the past few years. Got a new degree, changed job fields, changed jobs, changed apartments, started seeing a new guy. Soon there will be a divorce. And soon there will be another job change. For someone who spent 13 years in one job, this has been a very stressful year – two internships, three jobs, and looking for a fourth. Trying to create a new “normal” for myself.

I did an experiment at the beginning of fall, to try to change some of my habits – create new habits. I bribed myself to do these things each day, with money I didn’t really have, but could find and reallocate to something “fun” for myself. It worked somewhat well for two months. But once stress reared up again, the habits disappeared. It made me a bit more aware of the bad habits I was trying to replace, but it has not continued to be much of a change. A tiny baby step in the right direction. I need to make more.

Winter is coming, and I’ve got to stay motivated. I’ve got to stop missing days, not just of writing, but productivity. I accomplished a good bit while Mom was in town, but as soon as she left, progress slowed to a crawl. I am important, I am worth the effort, I am “fantastic and wonderful” by his words this morning. Words I really needed to hear today. Words I need to believe in and act on.

I am very lucky in this life, to have this life. Full of love and friends and family. A job, an apartment, enough food, a car. I have the opportunity to follow my dreams and desires. I cannot let that go to waste. I will stop missing days, and live this life to the fullest.

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Thoughts Do Roll About

October 16th, 2016

I did a decent job of writing more in September, until I got swept up into my moving frenzy. Not on here, but for myself, that is. And it was good. But then I stopped again, full of things to do, and not making time for myself, other than binging on Netflix murder mystery shows. (Mom brought me up on Murder She Wrote, and it’s just spiraled from there.)

I have a lot of Stuff just floating around in my head. Thoughts that are no good for me, that I really should get out of there, and let go of. Thoughts of being unimportant, not good enough, of being a “single secondary” for the rest of my life. Thoughts that have no place in reality, but are so powerfully depressing, that some days, I just can’t shake them. I’m 36 years old, there is plenty of life left in me, and I have wonderful friends and family that love me. I have him, and I am part of his family, and he loves me. I have a sexual partner who cares for me, and enjoys spending time with me. And I have a life full of work and play and joy.

I am grateful for the things I have, and I am working towards the things I want to have. Even if that path is sometimes confusing, or covered in fog (which is often self-created). I will find it, and I will walk it. With love and support from all my friends and family.

 

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Oops

September 18th, 2016

Two weeks in, and I’ve already messed up at writing/posting more. I have my reasons and my excuses – moving, super stressful weekend last weekend, etc. etc. But those won’t solve anything. I even had things I wanted to write about last weekend. I don’t remember them now. It was the big event I didn’t go to last weekend, so there were things I wanted to say instead. I wish I had at least written them down. Ah well. It’s a new week, new things to say. In theory. 😉

I’m slowly working on tidying up. I’ve gone through clothes so far, sold a couple pieces and donated three bags, and thrown out another bag worth. Some of that my club/event clothes, or things that were pretending to be club/event clothes, that I never actually wore anymore. Getting rid of objects I don’t/won’t use anymore. The book I read says to keep only things that bring you joy. In order to create a home that fills you with joy. So, that’s my goal.

I want to create a home in my new place, that fills me with calm, joy, and creativity. I want it to be a space where I can (and want to) create many things – a new life, new writings, new projects, new relationships, and new bonds in current relationships.

Life can stagnate, if you let it. Working the same tired job, with the same tired attitude, doing the same things every day, every week. Losing sight of your dreams and your goals. Losing sight of the wide variety of experiences just waiting out there for you. But life is change, living is being in a constant state of change. Of learning, of experiencing, of doing.

I’ve been differently focused lately – focused on moving, on stresses, on things I don’t want to do. I even showed up in Pants on Friday night. The skirt and dress were right next to me in my bag, but my focus was on too many negative things, that I walked right up to him in jeans. He had to say something before I even realized what his expression meant.

He asked me whatever happened to “just do” and I made some smart-assed comment in reply. He had just found those paragraphs again while cleaning, and wanted to share it with me. (I just went looking for a post that included the paragraphs and could not find one, how odd.) And I walked up in Jeans. Yes, I definitely need to refocus.

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Events and Me Time

August 25th, 2016

COPE is coming up, but I’m not going this year. Too much tied up in moving house. Just can’t swing it this time. Which is a sad, for not getting to see friends, not getting to play with him, not having hot stories to tell after, not getting to sample classes from new presenters, no pile of meat Saturday night. But, it isn’t the first time I haven’t gone, and probably won’t be the last.

I’ve let myself get too wrapped up in everything. And pulled all the stress onto my shoulders and into my body. I have to focus on me for a little while. On getting ready to start a new chapter, on moving house, and rediscovering or recovering my passions. This is one of those passions I’ve let slide far too much. Social media is not really my bailiwick, I don’t know how to use Twitter to get followers, or interact with them, it just seems like there is too much noise, too much static there. I don’t know how to cut through it and connect, and let’s be honest, I don’t feel motivated to try. But writing, is. Writing about my journey, about my fun and my grief. Writing about my triumphs and my falls. Writing good stories, and meaningful (to me, at least) posts.

So, I’ve set some goals to recover my passions, and one of those is to write more every day, including at least one short story a week. I’m not going to promise they will all be for this site, but there will be some.

I had a really nice weekend. We had a hugely busy FFF this month, much bigger than we’d expected given attendance of late. And that was great, the fire class went well, and everyone had a good time. Also, he brought me fresh made rolls, Mmmmmm Tasty.

We also put on a Saturday party, or FFS. At which, I got to encourage a good friend to try out our Electric station, and our Fire station, both of which she very much enjoyed, and this made my heart happy – she does so much for our community, it’s nice to give back.

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Things I Want to Say

August 10th, 2016

I have things I want to say, things I want to post about. But I’m tired all the time, and I write them down, prompts for when I have more energy. But then, they don’t make as much sense, or they don’t seem as important. Or them seem too vulnerable a topic to put out in public space. At some point in the past, I didn’t care that this was public space – blogging for the world to see, mostly because I assumed that no one did see it. And that’s mostly true, still, my numbers are depressingly low for a blogger that’s been blogging this long, but they’re good enough for me, a few people visit every day, and that’s all I really need. Just enough for me to be sure this isn’t a hidden space, just enough for me to worry about being judged. Though not publicly, I hardly ever get any negative comments, or contradictory even. And yet…

Part of me wants to do another 30 days thing, to get my juices flowing, to get me back to posting. To get me back to making the time for writing. I’ve let the worries of the world, of money, of jobs, of moving, of health, beat me down into a little worker bee, doing all the needful things, but not doing the heartful things. The things that fill me up and move me forward into the world with happiness.

Which takes me to one of my topics. Abnegation versus Dauntless. I’ve been listening to the Divergent series audiobooks. I’ve only made it through the first two, because the third has a waitlist. But the main character’s struggle between selflessness and bravery is interesting to me. The other factions – knowledge, honesty, happiness – these are good traits, too, but they aren’t a struggle in my head. Bravery – in this internal struggle, is more about standing up, for myself, for others, instead of selflessness as standing back, doing what others want.

I’m not sure I’m explaining this well. In the D/s circles, there are discussions about doormats. One wants a submissive, not a doormat. Sometimes, it is a struggle between selflessness and doormatness – knowing where the line is, and having the bravery to stand up for oneself, while still serving.

But it’s more than that for me. I think I do a pretty decent job staying out of doormat-land. I am working on that standing up part, though – not to other people, necessarily, but for myself – to myself. Believing in myself, I guess. Some say that bravery is not being unafraid, but rather, being afraid and doing it anyway. It doesn’t take courage to do something you’re not afraid of.

And sometimes selflessness is bravery – in the books, being willing to sacrifice one’s life for others is both brave and selfless. The trouble, for me, with selflessness, if forgetting about my self. Not taking care of my self, doing for others instead of myself. Not because they don’t care about me, or don’t want me to think of myself, but because I put them first, instead of myself.

I forget to think, what do I want to do? What is good for me in this situation? I’m getting better at it, day by day. I’m taking better care of me, and not getting down on myself when I forget to. I have people around me that love me, who do their best to make sure I’m thinking of myself, too, when they ask me to do something.

What faction would I choose? All of them – I want to be brave, selfless, honest, happy, and intelligent. Because all of those things together is what make humanity great.

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Imp of the Perverse

July 4th, 2016

I don’t know if I’ve ever posted about my name. I’ve had this blog so long, it’s possible that I have, but something new brought it forward in my mind. I listened to Brimstone Angels by Erin Evans recently, and the devil in the story brought it forward in my mind. Not the magic he offers, or his violent temper, or even the care he develops for the main character, but her attraction to him, and her resistance of it.

I have a quote from E.A. Poe’s story, The Imp of the Perverse, on the sidebar of this website: “There is no passion in nature so demoniacally impatient, as that of him who, shuddering upon the edge of a precipice, thus meditates a plunge.” It’s a story about that little voice inside us, that urges us to jump. Urges us to Do The Thing, even though the rational, logical part of our brain says ‘no, it’s dangerous, it’ll kill you, don’t do it.’

I have that feeling a lot in my life. And I resist it a lot, too. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s very hard. Sometimes I resist it just because the feeling is there, and it is so strong: I shouldn’t do the thing. Why? Because I want to do it so badly.

Does that even make sense to someone who isn’t me? Who wasn’t raised the way I was? Probably, a lot of people were raised this way. I was raised to resist temptation: “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” I was taught that temptation was evil, something to be avoided.

And so, sometimes, when I give into temptation, I do it with my eyes closed so tightly, that I trip and fall headlong down that cliff. Instead of walking in, eyes (and mind) wide open, so I can control my fall, or maybe even climb down carefully.

I’ve done this with relationships, over and over again. Jumped in headfirst, and hit rock bottom before I even knew I was falling. Some of these were shallow cliffs, with not very far too fall. Some of them, I’m still climbing out of.

I did this with him, too. Jumped in without looking, lost my way, took the wrong path, hit rock bottom. But he jumped in with me, and we helped each other back to our feet, and we still walk together, living our lives, and exploring other cliffs.

Sometimes, I miss my cliff-jumping days. Sometimes, I resent my carefulness, now. Sometimes, I get frustrated that bad-idea snacks are the one of the few temptations I give into anymore. Sometimes, I don’t want to be responsible, dependable, reliable. Some days, I just want to go be a librarian on the Galapagos Islands. Some days, I want to just get in my car and drive til I run out of money. Some days, I wonder if I could get people to pay me to drive around the country doing genealogical research for them. Or fly around the world, too. Some days, I don’t want to be careful, and thoughtful, and considerate. Some days, I just want to jump off a building and be Dauntless. (Guess what book I’m listening to, now.)

 

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Energy

May 1st, 2016

I meant to post a thing about energy. Been meaning to since Wednesday night. I even meant to have a conversation about it this weekend. But I’ve just been so busy/exhausted. Irony, oh how I love you. So, let’s get this going.

Wednesday night, we had a class entitled: Sacred Touch. Every fall, at COPE, there is a space called: The Scarlet Sanctuary. Both were about a practice of sensual, but not sexual, touch between (usually) two givers and one receiver. The receiver lies on a (massage) table, face up. The givers proceed with light touch all over the body of the receiver. There is negotiation first, and removal of whatever clothing the receiver wishes. The idea, as I understood it being explained this week, is that with four hands on one’s body, the brain cannot process it all and it can put the receiver into a floaty or subspace kind of zone. The experience is different for everyone involved, every time it occurs, I am told. This week was the first time I experienced it.

I have said that I’m not a very “woo” person, but this may be inaccurate. I have faith in a God above, and to some, that’s a very “woo” thing. I believe in personal energy, and that can be a very “woo” thing. I’m not into the seeing auras, and reading futures, because that’s not part of my personal life. But I do feel energy, sometimes to an extreme. I do enjoy the energy circle created by sex or by scenes. I do, on occasion, worry that my energy is too needy, or that I’m in danger of being an energy vampire when I’m sad, lonely, or upset. Other times, I am repulse by the energy of others, or overwhelmed by the energy of a large group or gathering.

Because of these latter two, I often keep my energy bubble in tight. I stay inside myself. I exhibit the usual closed body language – arms and legs crossed, curled in upon myself. Afraid to let it go. Afraid to mix my energy with others. Even those I love, for fear of being a drain on them and their energy. In some situations, they pull me out of, or crack my shell. When he and I have intense scenes, or he sends me flying, my bubble bursts wide open. When my new lover and I have sex, he peels away the outer layer and our energies flow together. But after, I always put myself back together, zip it back up, keep it tight.

So, I wanted to try this sacred touch, this opening up, this letting go with people whose goal it is to not just let me, but to make a space for it, for the mingling and releasing of energies. Three people were leading tables, with each guiding a new volunteer with each scene, so people could try out giving as well as receiving. I requested the leader that is a dear friend of mine, but not one I’d ever scened with, other than helping him tease her. I didn’t know the other two leaders, except by face, and I trust her. The volunteer giver was someone I knew by face, but not much beyond, but that was unimportant, I felt I could let go with her there.

After negotiations, she helped me peel down (part of the service) to bra and panties, and they both helped me onto the table. It started slow, just feeling out my skin, as I told myself to relax, to release my shoulders, to just give in. An odd chime sounded as part of the music, sounding like the chime used to end meditation at the Open Sangha and I laughed to myself and dropped back down into the music and touch. I repeated to myself over and over: “It’s okay, it’s ____, just let go” until I believed it.

Tears dripped out of my eyes and down my cheeks, as I let go of stress and balled up energy. She held my head, wiped away a tear or two, touched my forehead. Reassuring. More tears fell, not hard, just a trickle out of my eyes as stress left my chest. And their hands kept running over my skin. The trickle stopped, for the most part, and I started vibrating. I do this in scenes sometimes, sensation breaks me open, and I just start shaking with the energy. I laughed a little bit, trying to breathe it out, as the session came to an end. Just take your time, she told me, and I nodded, still shaking.

After a few moments, I took their hands and sat up, shivering more than shaking now. Breathing deeply to settle myself back down. I thanked them both as I settled back into my body. Cold now, so she helped me back into my clothes, and when I returned to my seat, I grabbed my jacket, too.

It was an oddly peaceful feeling, when it was all done and the final ceremony to release the gathered extra energy was done. I felt, not empty, but calmed. As though my energy had been smoothed out, like released muscles after a good massage. He commented that I was extra quiet when I dropped by to return the gear afterwards. I was floating, I told him. It was like floating, in a clear, calm pool.

I went into my weekend up north with much more calm than I usually do, eager to be going, certainly, but without the desperate need I have been feeling, to escape from the stresses of home. It was nice to be there, in a calmer state than usual, and left me better able to be supportive of him. Doing my best to keep that calm state for the coming week, with a local convention where another group I’m involved in will be running parties.

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Surrounded by Wolves

April 22nd, 2016

The only wall decorations in my living room are pictures of wolves taken from calendars my mother-in-law used to get me every year. Two or three wolves in each picture, adults or pups. I didn’t want any lone wolf pictures around me, I wanted families. To remind me, in my single home, that I am not alone. I am part of a family, part of a pack, loved and cared for and wanted.

A lot is going on in my world. Changes, adjustments, frustrations, and joys. I work a draining job, and a very fun job, and I apply for others. I wish things were simpler, but I know that would be boring. I juggle finances, responsibilities, and fun with nearly equal measure. I’m listening to books now, to balance not making time to read. I’m not writing enough, but whenever I remember that, I make some time.

I do love my life, and making plans for the future. I am grateful for the health I have, if occasionally cranky for the health I lack. I am grateful for all the love in my life, for the friends and chosen family, who have chosen me, too.

Spring is springing, new life, new joys, new opportunities.

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