Numinous Misty Bridges

I pulled way inside myself after things got so intense here in September.

I needed to find the center place where it was simply quiet, where the waves were not so crashingly high, where I might ride things into some calmer mental state. Too many voices and too many emotions were spinning me into a state of disorientation. I found I couldn't keep my feet under me, couldn't find my bearings, couldn't settle, couldn't listen.

So. Inside. Hunkered down to find what the storms and the darkness and the silences might have to teach. I've spent some time guarding what has felt very fragile and very tender -- my sense of myself as slave, as owned, as woman, as His. I've needed to rest in those "identifications" without the need to explain, defend, teach, give, or share. I've needed time to heal and understand.

I've found deep grieving that I hadn't done... In the whirlwind that has been the transition from "vanilla" wife to slave imbedded in a triad family, I've let go of much of a lifetime of attachment. Most of that was "bad" for me in some sense, and still it represented all of my adult life prior to this "choosing." The three joyous years of my coming into slavery have left little time for looking back or for focused grieving those losses. I focused on Master and He focused on me and that provided a buffer. When the focus suddenly shifted, I was jarred into a sudden awareness that was like dropping into ice water. Grieving waits for us as long as it has to. mine has been intense these last weeks.

I've found intensely personal and intimate fears that I simply hadn't anticipated or looked at or dealt with until the advent of new relationships brought me face to face with them. The reality is that the fears were and are groundless, but I didn't know that from the outset, and even if I had, I suspect I would still have had to face down the dragons. Meeting fire breathing beasties inside your own psyche is a big damn deal. For me, this time, it gave me the opportunity to tell a part of my story, have it heard, and ask for what I needed to feel safe. Not a bad outcome.

I've had to confront my aging, my waning sexual responses in the passage through to menopause, my struggles with the tightrope that is the sadomasochistic dilemma in a paired relationship like ours. No matter how the reassurances are heaped upon me, I FEEL the diminshments and weigh them in balances that leave me quivering with doubts. I had plenty of time to walk around in my own head and see if I could find a way to simply trust that the changes would not change the foundations that I relied upon when I entered into service to Master. Active trust? Decide to trust? Thank you all who played that discussion out with me...

And then there are things like bending, submitting, waiting, listening, ...

I've spent nights awake, listening to Him sleep, looking at the darkness, feeling the tides rocking through me. I've felt the waves growing smaller. Sometimes. Dark fears don't recede all at once. Grief is not a smooth process. Trust is not entirely straightforward. Pride and impatience are devilish habits to overcome.

I've come to see the most delicate, misty, indescribably numinous bridges out of the darkness. They seem so magical that I can hardly believe they are real, and I don't understand what they are made of. I can't even find words to describe the process of this bridge building. I only know that I am finding ways into something new for me. The magic bridges are so fine and so shimmery -- I've stepped onto them wondering what would happen. So far they've carried me out and away. Oddest feeling...

Around me, family is still clearly nervous -- afraid I'll melt down again. I'd like it if they'd relax and let me just walk back out of the darkness, but I understand that they will have to see some proof of what has happened here before they put any credence in my being "really ok."

Ah well... fascinating just the same.

swan