Aftermath

Well.

We are back. Real life landed on us with a vengeance, and almost immediately as we departed from COPE and drove home Sunday. To leave for even a short bit of time and immerse ourselves in "that" life requires that we put an awful lot of the other stuff on temporary hold. So we have to plan ahead very carefully. We'd grabbed up Grandma's laundry and gotten it taken care of ahead of time, and I'd done as much planning and grading as it is possible to do. All of our own household washing and cleaning was caught up before we left, and T and I had done the grocery shopping and baking ahead of departure. So we were were "ready," or as ready as can be. Still, coming back necessitates, diving right back in. I had to jump right on the grading left from the end of the week, and we had to get in a visit to Grandma, and there were all the things that we took with us that had to be unpacked, laundered, and put in their proper places... The end of the weekend was hardly relaxing. There is no such thing as an easy re-entry.


But let me see if I can hit the mental rewind button and get my head back to the event itself -- enough to do some decent reporting.


This was the first year for this event. As such it was remarkable: amazingly well-run, well-attended, happy, comfortable, nicely done. The presenters did a good job. The vendor area, although small, was well stocked and we found a few goodies that Himself just couldn't live without (surprise, surprise!). The dungeon was GOOD (if a bit cramped), with very nicely done furnishings, and fabulous music that really did contribute to our play -- the energy there was excellent. Barak and Brat Sheba, who were the organizers and prime-movers of this whole venture were great hosts and delightful throughout. They are pulling in accolades from all sides which is exactly as it should be.


The "bests" of an event like this, for me, are several:

• There is the condensed time for us three away from the routines of our lives, and that is good. We get so caught up in the busyness sometimes that we often don't stop to breathe and just take time to enjoy each other. And we DO enjoy one another. We had a lovely dinner out on Saturday evening, and it was a pure pleasure to just take the time, away from the family cares, and the blaring of the television news, and the continual round of chores and demands, to simply be together over a good meal. We settled in and watched the ebb and flow of people coming and going and simply were with ourselves and it was good.




• There is the opportunity to be with other people who are kinky. To simply wander around in the company of people who do not think that the three of us holding hands is odd, or that the fact that I get beaten is somehow horrible, or that what we wear in the dungeon is all tha out of the ordinary. It is delightful to find ourselves in the presence of people who will ask about my cutting and admire it as something significant and beautiful -- not some horrific mutilation. It is a joy to find others making this journey who will talk about their ups and downs and joys and struggles as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and then listen and share and talk about it the way other people talk about THEIR relationships, so that we can all drink in the supportive, nurturing, affirmative energy of knowing that we are somehow not alone in the world.




• There is the chance to visit vendors who make and sell GOOD quality lifestyle products that are a pleasure to touch and look at and own. It is so different to buy whips and paddles and crops and canes and straps and fetish gear from people who make it with respect and integrity and skill. This is not the cheap, tawdry junk that is typically found in "sex" shops. It is lovely and sensuous and full of life and energy. The craftspeople who make and sell these goods do so with their hearts and hands and minds and spirits, and the products carrry that within their very being. All through the year, we deal in these goods via the Internet, through the mail, and by phone -- long distance. For the space of these kinds of events, we are able to see one another face to face and make the connections that knit us to one another.



• There is, perhaps for me, best of all, the dungeon time. In the dungeon I learn and re-learn that I am really alright; that I can do this, that I am not such a lost cause. I gain strength and power and affirmation and energy from playing in the presence of others. Whether they pay attention to what we do or not makes not the least bit of difference. I am buoyed by their very presence; by their simple, easy acceptance of me there in their midst -- naked, gasping, sweating, grunting, shrieking, bleeding, sobbing. That it is alright to be there and be hurt while the hum and throb of the place goes on all around us is powerful and supportive in a way that I cannot fathom and cannot explain. It simply is. This time, the music was a gentle and rhythmic wave that caught me and carried me along. That is not normally my experience, and I was enchanted to have it occur in this particular dungeon. We played both nights, which is exceptional. We do not do that as a rule. We are one night people -- one night or the other, but not both. For some reason, we found the energy and well-being and connection that took us to the dungeon both nights. That was wonderful. Even more interesting, on the second night, we played until the dungeon monitor had to politely and gently ask us to wind it up because we were well over the time limit on the particular piece of equipment (there was a 45 minute time limit so that everyone could have a chance to play).

The things that are chafing me --

• It was a crummy venue. The hotel was just depressing in terms of the overall condition of the place -- rundown, sad, decrepit, unattractive. It was the same location where last year's Ohio Leather Fest was held, and a year of age has not improved it any. Last year we encountered roaches in the hallways and in the dungeon; this year it was fleas in our room. Literally, the place was a second-rate, flea-bag hotel. There wasn't a single GOOD or even palatable restaurant alternative anywhere in the vacinity. I know that it doesn't have to be this way. Thunder in the Mountains is held in business class hotels with attractive facilities and decent amenities. I'm sure that cost is a consideration -- this place is cheap. Still, I really wonder what it COSTS us as a community when we let ourselves be pushed into trashy hotels that say to everyone (including us) that we just don't deserve a decent place to gather and socialize and live as the people we are?
• There weren't enough of us to completely fill the hotel. Some of the rooms were occupied by "vanilla" folks. So -- there was the "Grandmother Rule" in effect for the whole weekend. The "Grandmother Rule" imposes limits on our behavior to protect the sensibilities of all those "vanilla" folks. It limits what we can wear and what we can do to those things that would not offend or shock "Grandma." Now, I am generally not in favor of "vanilla violation," and I don't advocate an "in their face" attitude on the part of our community, but I wonder... What is it that makes us so willing to bend ourselves into a small, tiny, cramped, unnatural presentation at "our" event so as not to offend? Why is it ok for US to hide our leathers and our canes and our corsets while THEY parade their twinset sweaters and crucifixes and children (the clear evidence of their heterosexual breeding behavior)? If what we do in terms of our sexual/erotic orientation is "offensive" by definition and required to be hidden, why is the same not true for THEM? Nevermind answering -- I know... that is all purely rhetorical. But still!
• I like playing in public. I wish we could do more of it. But I've been around awhile and this is not new. Like so many of these events that we've attended before, this one felt pretty formulaic: sessions during the day featuring presenters on pretty typical topics (flogging, caning, bondage, aftercare, etc.) and play parties in the evening. I don't discount the value of that format for those who are relatively new to the life -- I found it tremendously worthwhile in my early years, and I believe there will always be those who will need the opportunity to explore the techniques and ideas of the beginning paths. Still, I find I am increasingly frustrated at the lack of opportunities at these things for real conversation and real connection to people who are, like us, living it and doing it in the face of real life challenges. I'd love to sit in small circles or discussion groups that could be directed or guided or facilitated somehow to explore how people engage and confront the middle passages of this life once the beginnings have been negotiated and successfully navigated. Surely there must be some other formats besides the "everybody sits mostly passively in presentations made over and over by the same presenters year after year."

Still, it was a good time. Life is harder because we are here and not there. Re-entry is always difficult and this week is proving that for sure.

swan