Coffee Klatsch

The trouble with writing for me is that, every now and then, all the things that I am thinking about gather themselves up together in a big swirling vortex of words and ideas, and I have a devil of a time sorting them out into any sort of reasonable or orderly pattern or context. They spin from one thing to another in my head and reconfigure themselves and partner up and hold hands like some sort of wild conceptual hill-jack hoedown in my brain.


It would be so much easier if I could have all the folks that I read gathered around my living room in a nice, comfy circle with tea and coffee cake and we could all just chatter away about all of this until the ideas got themselves sorted out. Because that's what I've got here really, is a little bit of this and that, gathered up from here and there and the other place. Ideas and feelings and reactions to things that people are talking and writing about -- and that I just want to talk about until I'm done talking about them.

Morningstar has a piece on her site about collars, and I know that she was reacting and responding to things that kaya's been writing about her own evolution as she's thought about her own collar-wearing experience here lately. So, of course, it has had me back into thinking about the idea of the collar and what it is and what it means and how we use it and where it comes from. Because, of course, we don't and never have done it the way it is usually done. Imagine! I have a lovely, chain mail collar that I wear with joy and delight when the circumstances of my life make that practical and sensible. I do not wear it when doing so would jeopardize my career or our social situation in some fashion. It is not locked, and I put it on (generally) and take it off as appropriate. He likes to see me wear it and finds it attractive, but if I don't have it on at any particular moment, He very well might not notice that, and it is not an issue. He and I did not go through the "steps" of collaring that morningstar outlines in her discussion. In fact, He gave me this collar because I asked for it. That request was made, in large part, because we were playing in public venues, and having no collar in public settings left me feeling uncomfortably vulnerable anytime I was not in His immediate presence. The collar would, I knew, give me some security in that setting because it would clearly speak, to all who saw me, of His ownership -- and so I would be able to relax and not feel as if I had to continually defend my personal boundaries. This collar was selected for me by Master and T, purchased at a booth at Ohio Leather Fest, and placed immediately around my neck. There was nothing particularly "formal" about the act or the occasion. It was a gift given in consideration of a need expressed. It is, surely, one of the symbols of our bond. It is not the only one, or the most significant one.

Symbols are interesting. They mean exactly what we decide they mean. They carry whatever weight we give them. The collar that I wear sits lightly somedays, and very heavily on others. I embrace it easily most of the time, and then there are times when I struggle with it and tug at its links with honest frustration. In that sense, it does accurately mirror the reality of my slavery: a very good symbol, indeed. Still, it is a symbol. It is not the reality. If it was gone, or broken, or lost in some fashion, the truth of my bond to this Man would remain entirely unchanged. The linkage between us is not forged in a bit of metal, but within our hearts and souls and minds. I would belong to Him, and did belong to Him, long before there was a collar on my neck; long before there was a ring on my finger; long before there were scars in my flesh.

I understand that these are my truths, and that this is not IT for everyone. For some, that collar and the business of progressing through levels of collaring is important and significant. I am aware that many celebrate collaring ceremonies marking the passage into formal power relationships, and I've participated in some of these observances with friends. I do not dismiss the import of these rituals for those who find them valid and valuable. Rites of passage such as these speak deeply in the human psyche, and have a real place in our lives. It is just not something we've engaged in for our own path.

Another thing that I've gotten sort of bemused about in the last few days is this Second Life thing that I am hearing more and more about in various places. There was this reference to it on kaya's journal, but it keeps cropping up everywhere, and I've recently found other friends have sort of disappeared off into this "imaginary" world. How very odd. I know I'm an old lady and terribly behind the times, but I just don't get it. I really, really don't. Help me. Please. Virtual. On-line. Bits and bytes. Electronic impulses. Binary code. Zeroes and ones. Hello?

I'll admit that I came into this stuff way back in the days when "Pong" was new, so I'm entirely too old to even comprehend why someone wants to LIVE their life inside a computer GAME for pity's sake. I'll grant you that this is clearly light year's from the computer games that I remember, but it isn't REAL. It is on-line interaction enhanced with "gaming" technology and fancy graphic interfaces. Neat if that's your thing I guess, but I am still pretty seriously bum-fuzzled as to how any intelligent, sane, grounded adult person gets lost in this stuff. Someone help me to my rocking chair...

And then there is more on the Domestic Discipline front. Sigh. Vivian, over at The Disciplined Feminist, continues to struggle with what she is now referring to as "The Big Problem." In simple terms, that comes down to this: she is a self-controlled, intelligent adult who follows the rules and does not deliberately misbehave most of the time. She makes reasonable choices in her life and so does not act in ways that would typically merit "punishment" within the parameters of a typically defined DD relationship. Still she craves the catharsis that comes from serious disciplinary encounters. And she has a partner to whom she has trouble relinquishing that level of control -- there is an inherent "respect" issue that is clear when you read what she writes, although she never quite gets to it in so many words.

That is the usual struggle with DD. People with any sort of integrity and intelligence, who actually need and want serious spanking/discipline in their lives, find that they are caught on the horns of a dilemma. To act with integrity in their relationship, they must behave well (and any sensible, responsible adult CAN do that) which reduces the number of disciplinary spankings to almost nil. If they deny the possibility of serious disciplinary spankings under the command of an appropriate and respected Dominant partner, simply because that is a need that both have and understand, then they struggle endlessly to find ways to fulfill the need within a framework that does not work in that fashion. In the end, it all devolves to role play and silliness. Unfortunately, those who attach determinedly to DD tend to see anything "beyond" the bounds of Domestic Discipline as merely erotic and sexual fantasy (her words -- not mine), and so devalue it for themselves. This is, sadly, the thought pattern that Vivian is stuck in. Being stuck there means that she is leaning firmly against the doorway to the room where the solution to her "big problem" is waiting for her. It is that old lesson: doors don't open until you quit leaning against them.

swan