Friends

I've spent some time in the last few weeks on a relatively new social networking site for BDSM practitioners and other "kinky" people. The place is called Fetlife, and it is an exceptionally well-designed, multi-featured, networking space that is growing and improving, in terms of function, everyday.

Today, however, I have initiated the process of withdrawing from the site. The reasons for that decision are complicated. In simple terms, I have come to feel very overwhelmed, and somewhat out of place there. Partly, that is because of my own way of being in the world, the things I value in my relations with others, and the importance to me of deep, thoughtful conversation about the things that I care about. Partly, my urge to disentangle myself from the Fetlife milieu has to do with the energy, time, and focus that it takes. I don't find that participation there supports my continued growth and development as a slave, it does not enhance my understanding of my role or my place. The time and energy that I have to invest to keep up with people on the site detracts from what I really should be doing.





One of the biggest problems, for me, is the speed of every Fetlife conversation. On most of my days, I am unable to even access the place until I am home, and settled with the computer for the evening. The sheer volume of material that accumulates in the groups that I am connected to is almost always overwhelming, but if I manage to tumble onto some topic that I could engage in the conversation with, I find I hardly ever have time to make a considered and thoughtful comment. In most cases, before I can get there and think what I might say, people have already said everything they are interested in saying and have moved on. In the few instances where I've gone ahead and put up some comment, there has been no response at all. It is clear that the group gallops on and never looks back.





It really is probably just me. I am not a text messager. I don't live in a "Bluetooth" world. I am simply not interested in being that "in touch" with the rest of the world all the time. I want to converse. That implies something very specific to me. I "talk with" and "talk to" people all the time. Talking is the way we get the business of civil life done. So, throughout the day, I'll talk with the store clerk, the repair person, the customer support representative, the paper delivery kid, the receptionist at the doctor's office, and a host of others. I am also "talked at" by radio and TV and the like. My world can be full of all kinds of words. Most of them are not particularly evocative, and they generally don't create much of a response in me. Conversation, on the other hand, is cordial, and social, and connective. I like to meander along conversational pathways with interesting companions. For me, at least, that kind of shared thinking and verbal exploring happens best with spaces and quiet places in between the lines. Good conversation is a slow-moving dance where the participants need time to fully react and respond to whatever is posited by their partner or partners.




Then there is the business of collecting "friends." I understand (sort of) that the whole point is to create webs of people that one is linked to -- and that each of these linkages is a "friend." A cursory look around the place will turn up people who have dozens, and even hundreds of "friends." And, as in the days when I was a teenager, the number and quality of your "friends," as measured by some mysterious criterion which only those "in the know" understand, defines a person's social capital. The class system is alive and well in the social networking realm of cyberspace.





And that's OK. It just isn't how I understand things. In my view, a friend is someone I have known for awhile. I have a real affinity for my friends. I understand them, and they understand me. We can trust each other, and we genuinely care about what happens in each other's lives. My father was prone to emphasize to us as we grew up, that while we might have lots of acquaintances, we'd be lucky to find a few good friends. That seems to be still true for me. There are lots of people that I "know" in some fashion, but that hardly makes them friends. I might even genuinely like those people, find them interesting or admirable or entertaining, but that does not qualify them as genuine friends. Friends tell you the truth, listen to you whine, pick you up when you crash, and love you through whatever stupidity or calamity you encounter.



I've been writing in this weblog format for several years now. The intent of this place was to help reduce a sense of isolation, and it was meant to bring me into contact and community with others who could be part of a circle of support for my lifestyle choices and struggles and questions. Too, it was intended as a place for me to think out loud, about whatever was going on in my world, and therefore, in my mind. In the final analysis, the reason this Blog exists is because it serves to support my life and development as His slave. It serves that purpose well. The connections are ones that have formed over time. The conversations are largely driven by my own mental pondering Here, we don't move to the next topic until I'm ready to move. Here, I don't have to justify or qualify my existence. I don't have to provide any sort of credentials. What you see here is what you get. If you want to be part of the group that gathers to visit, then please join right in, but there's no requirement for anyone to participate if they choose otherwise. There's no great "social capital" to hanging out with me or with us. We are not inclined to the roles of diva, guru, expert, or even "cool kid on the playground."



I honestly don't know how many there are who would count themselves a "friend" of this place if we were counting that way. The blogroll shifts and evolves as people emerge into our vision. We don't feel like the list of sites that we link to is anything other than an easy way to reach the people that we read on some regular basis. If we happen to become interested in a site, they are likely to end up in the blogroll. We don't engage in "link-whoring," and we don't try to sell the place. It is what it is. The statistics tell us that people come and go. It seems likely that there is a pretty regular core of visitors -- most of whom remain anonymous and silent. Perhaps their conversational engagement happens where we cannot see it.



In the end, I think there is value to online social networking models like Fetlife. I think, if it works for you, that is a great thing. I won't be spending time there anymore. For me, it is like the choice between vacationing in Glacier National Park, and vacationing in Las Vegas. Both places have their fans, but I hope to live and die and never, ever set foot in Las Vegas.



swan

Tall?

I am a fairly tall woman. I measure just shy of 5'-11" standing barefooted. I am the tallest one in the family by probably 3-5 inches.

Recently, a friend who has seen our various pictures, took notice of the height differential, and asked (with some surprise), "You are taller than your Master, aren't you?"

I am. By several inches. We never pay any attention at all.

I know that it is the "norm" for women to prefer that the men they relate to personally be taller. I know that many men feel that it is important to have women partners who are shorter. That set of expectations seem very deeply entrenched in our society; perhaps even in our anthropological inheritance. From the very early moments in the history of the human species, there is evidence that the male was significantly larger and taller than the female. It seems that all of us, homo habilis, homo erectus, and homo sapiens, evolved in ways that equate tall stature with power, strength, the ability to protect, and a sense of dominance.

For us, however, there is no issue with inches. He is completely, confidently dominant, and it has nothing at all to do with being tall or short. His presence is sufficient to convey His power and His strength. Those intangible but undeniable attributes cannot be measured in feet and inches.

Most of us, within power-based relationships, understand that dominance is not about size. It is not about looks, it is not about the physical attributes. In the same way, submission does not depend on being physically overwhelmed, it does not arise from a sense of being forced, it is not driven by some feeling of inevitable imbalance in stature or bulk. Within the lifestyle, most of us are, intellectually, aware that the power flows between us because we choose and create that reality by virtue of our conscious intent and choice.

Still, there is that assumption that is caught off guard by the reality of our "alternative size orientations." I am taller. I am His.

swan

Amazing Pride

Today we joined with something like 100,000 people to celebrate Pride Fest in Columbus. We drove the 90 miles from home in torrential rains, only to find the sun shining on the parade route. We actually rode in the parade, waving and interacting with people lined up 8 or 9 deep for the entirety of the nearly two-mile long distance through the heart of our state's capital. Kids, parents, couples of all combinations, elders, people of every race, people with disabilities, people of every shape, size, and description, and lots and lots of great dogs -- It was a wonderful celebration of community, inclusivity, and self-determination.


The event, sponsored by Stonewall Columbus, is a joyful, open, wonderful celebration for the GLBT and Q community, and allied groups and organizations.



We had a wonderful time. By the time we arrived at the end of the parade route, we were thrilled and energized by the whole experience. For us, it was another opportunity to be in a community setting where we are not considered "odd, strange, or wrong." For the space of time we spent in that throng, we were just people, enjoying the day, enjoying the crowd, enjoying one another -- celebrating our lives together with a host of others doing the same thing.



We did encounter a few protesters scattered along the parade route -- church groups out shouting "scripture" to back their hatred. They were, for the most part, simply ignored -- allowed to do their thing, and simply given no satisfaction in the way of response. One of the people who rode in the car with us was stunned to see "Christians spewing such hatred." Sigh. There were some great, creative approaches to "answering" these attacks. One fellow stood next to a ranting Bible thumper with a sign that read, "My boyfriend is a right-wing, fundamentalist, wack-job." Cute.

I know that, for those of you who do not work in education, there is the notion that teachers have summer "vacations" that extend for months. It is true that I don't have to be back in my classroom until late in August. On the other hand, I tend to store up a long list of "projects" and things to do through the school year in anticipation of these long, less structured summer days. So, lest some of you are worried that I am just sitting here "eating bon-bons," here's a partial rendering of my summer "to-do" list:

• Get Himself ready to go to work each morning (instead of leaving Him here on His own as I do throughout the school year)
• Two week science teacher workshop/seminar (done)
• Clean the carpets
• Get a library card
• Eye doctor
• Leisure reading
• Find a new gynecologist and make an appointment
• File ALL the stuff
• Volunteer work for Master's agency
• Get the car serviced
• Organize my science lessons in line with the new textbook I just got
• Exercise (in progress)
• Swim a lot
• Organize His piles/collections
• Get a colonoscopy
• Get a mammogram (done)
• Clean the patio (repeatedly to keep the creepy crawlies at bay)
• Seal the new patio rockers
• Re-seal the tile in the shower
• Clean the refrigerator (inside and out)
• Clean the oven
• Plant some more of the garden (done)
• Clean the pantry (done)
• Clean the storage room (done)
• Clean the garage (done)
• Re-organize the exercise/junk room
• Get my sore elbow (tendonitis) healed up (in progress)

swan

Everything Old is New Again

We live in an all or nothing world. If you spend very much time reading here in the cyber universe, it is very easy to become convinced that the ONLY "right" way to do BDSM is to enter into a Master/slave dynamic where one is utterly Dominant and the other is completely submissive without limits or boundaries. Ours is a (self-identified) Master/slave dynamic, and I am one of those who will insist that this particular configuration of BDSM relating is NOT for everyone.





We did not start out as Master and slave. We began as friends. We came to a point in our early relating where we added a mentor/student component to our relationship. That led to our moving into a play partner dynamic, and eventually into an acknowledged Dominant/submissive relationship. We'd known each other for more than two years, and had come to live together full time over a period of months before we came to recognize our pattern of relatedness as Master/slave. Even then, we switched in our "play" for a very long time, and we engaged in mutual discipline dynamics where even Himself was subject to corporal punishment under certain circumstances.

We've never subscribed to the common assumption that all male partners must be Dominant, and that conversely, all female partners must be submissive. We recognize that Dominance and submission are expressions of personal sexual/erotic orientations, and we tend to believe that these roles cannot be successfully or comfortably forced onto persons who are not innately suited for them.



It isn't new knowledge. Way back in 1936, Dorothy Spencer formulated what came to be known as The Spencer Spanking Plan. It was a system of consensual relational discipline that was to be applied systematically and symetrically to and by partners in an intimate relationship. Unlike so many of today's dogmatic and doctrinaire participants in relational spanking, Dorothy didn't see any reason to limit the application of discipline to one side of the equation. She was quite at ease with the notion that it might be possible for either male or female partner to fall short of the appropriate behaviors in a relationship. She preached a doctrine that such short-comings might best be addressed by consensual and carefully negotiated discipline. I think it is amazing that, all these years later, the egalitarian viewpoint proposed by Dorothy Spencer is so often anathema to those who would practice relational discipline dynamics.

We don't switch anymore. He has lost His taste and desire for it. I can picture behaviors that might put Him in line for discipline from T or I. Mostly those would be related to health and safety I imagine. Our relationship has changed and evolved from the practice of switching that we once engaged in. Still, for many who are coming to this "new," who are curious, who are exploring and beginning their journey, I wonder if we don't do a disservice when we portray the pathway as leading, inevitably, to dynamics that are akin to Master/slave. Perhaps, for many, the more egalitarian styles of switching relating might be more appropriate.



swan

This is our Plan for Saturday

Saturday morning, we'll pile in the "big" car and head for Columbus, our state capital, to participate with others in the Gay Pride Parade. It will be partly a recognition of a partnership that has formed with our gay community there in support of the disability advocacy community. Too, though, it is a chance to stand with others who live lives that are "alternative." For us, it will be a "coming out" of sorts as we show more of who we are than is typical for our family.



I imagine we'll be all decked out in our "straight but not narrow" pins, and some brand new t-shirts and Obama campaign buttons purchased for this particular occasion from Cafe Press.


I don't know if there'll be anything more overt than that, but it remains to be seen. Whatever happens, it feels good to be moving into the light of day in this venue.



swan

Our Family Sticker

I found this link at Lord Spooner's Blog.

Like those stickers you see in the windows of some people's cars.

Only this one sits right here on our Blog.

How kewl is that?

swan

Create your own family sticker graphic at pYzam.com

It Must Be Summer

He and I slept in this morning. Then He went for His morning snuggle with T, saw her safely launched into her day. When He came back, we played -- and it is Tuesday. It must be summer. Finally!

Summer, for us, is a magical space that revolves in an entirely different time mode. Through the months of the school year, our week days begin abruptly at 5:45 AM. We have just a minute or two to snuggle awake before I'm up and headed out to the kitchen to make breakfast and pack lunches. He often takes that time to get His shower. Then, I'm off to the shower and dressed in my "teacher" clothes. I sit with Him to eat a quick breakfast, and am out the door at about 6:45. In the evenings, we eat dinner at about 7:30 (when T arrives home from work), assuming that we are all home for dinner and not off to one or another of our meetings. It is a schedule that is grueling. We have very little down time during the week, and on the weekends I am most often planning for the next week and grading student work. Too, we tend to try and fit in some "Grandpa" time on the weekends along with all the rest of the set of family that we need to try and keep up with as well.

During the school year, we are lucky if we get to "play" on one morning of the weekend. At best, anything resembling SM is going to happen on Saturday and Sunday. When things get really hectic, we can go a couple of weeks between sessions.

Then summer comes. I'm the only one who is technically "off" for the summer, but having me off makes the schedule relax significantly. He still has to go about His business of course, but His schedule is way more fluid than mine. We can play on a lot of the weekdays, once it is summertime.

That's the practical and prosaic description of how this all comes about. Of course, my head and heart care not at all about the practicalities. By the time we reach this point in our year, I've become sincerely "nuts" about the limited playtime that we've been enduring. In my head, the decline in play equates to a growing conviction that He simply doesn't want me anymore. I know it isn't true, but it still feels like the explanation that makes sense. I know that we've both been running different directions, on killer schedules, without any options for months -- but that voice just keeps poking at me:

If there were someone else (younger, cuter, newer, sexier, more
masochistic), He'd find time for her... It is just that you are old,
worn out, predictable, and not that much fun...

Now, I don't know if there is anyone else in the world that runs that "game" down on themselves, but it is a guaranteeed way to make things even less "fun" when they do happen. Having that track running in your head when it is time to get your ass beaten does not help in terms of getting into the right mindset.

So. Summer comes and there is more time. I will be spanked a whole lot more. That is a definite. It began this morning. Paddles and a strap and the cane. I wasn't particularly there, in the beginning, but He was. Right there with me, talking me through the rage and the fear and the doubt -- insisting that I am His and will be His and will, therefore, of course, be spanked. He assured me, by His words and by His actions that all is well between us, and that I have no reason to worry. It took awhile, but I could feel the waves of calm moving through me, easing the tensions, erasing the frustration, letting me settle gently into His arms and His strength.

So, summer is finally here, and it is good.

swan

The Way Things Work

We don't get a lot of negative commenting anymore. It is rare for people to engage in snarky behavior with us.

Sometimes though, someone will decide that something that gets written here is aimed at them, or is inappropriate somehow, or is perhaps negative in tone, or even that our whole way of arranging our lives is just wrong. Every now and then, we'll get wind of that kind of chatter in the background. It is, for me at least, an experience that causes me to go, "huh?" This has always been the place where we (but mostly I) write about us and our lives, so I am always a little taken aback when people react to whatever it is that I write here as if it were ABOUT them.

Maybe it is just that I haven't done one of those "Welcome to Our Blog -- Here's How it Works Around Here" posts for a long while. Let me see if I can rectify that situation...

"The Heron Clan," and the predecessor to it -- "The Swan's Heart," are personal weblogs that chronicle our lives and our opinions and our experiences. Both are the product of a directive from Master that I set up and maintain a place to write about my life, and my thinking, and my experiences. We write as a family, but far and away, most of what you read here is me.

I work very hard to write honestly. I endeavor to write from within myself, without undue focus on those of you who look in here. I appreciate those who read and comment, and I do monitor statistics, but I resist the urge to write TO the stats. This place has never been about "readership," and it is my hope that it continues to be a simple chronicle without the drive to pump the numbers up.

If you read here, you are going to get whatever I am thinking about in the moment. There is no guarantee that the things I write will be "polished" or easy to read. If something happens, or I have a fleeting thought, or something piques my interest or curiosity, then you will likely be treated to my ramblings about it. If I find an interesting bit somewhere else, and it gets me thinking, I might put it here. If I get a comment that causes a response in me, I may just take off in whatever direction that takes. No one in our family is a novice to what it is we do, and we do have some strong opinions. We don't make those secret, but we also don't prescribe for others. I'm not inclined to be deliberately provocative, but I don't screen my stuff against the possibility that someone might disagree with me. Disagreement is not discouraged or banned here. We've had those who have questioned, and sometimes openly disagreed with us along the way. I've never felt like those who find this discussion intriguing have to be in accord with everything I write.

I'm actually pretty mellow. Most interactions here are really just fine with me. Say what you think. However, I will not tolerated abuse, nastiness, or disrespect. Be polite -- this feels like my living room. If you behave like an uncouth lout with no manners or proper upbringing, I will likely say so right here in public. Too, if you have something to say, or a question to ask, do that in the open. Here. My comments are completely unmoderated, and we've never deleted any comments except our own (except for the occasional annoying spammer). It's good if you give us some sense of who you are when you comment. The ubiquitous "anonymous" commenter tends to get less notice from us than a person who is identifiable from the "pile." Too, if you are one of those who just loves to take your issues or concerns somewhere else and gossip and snipe, then don't be surprised when we dismiss you and your behavior as juvenile and unworthy of notice.

Oh yeah -- one other pet peeve of mine: write some reasonable approximation of English. I'm not a stickler for spelling, particularly. Too, I tend to write a "stream of consciousness" variety of the language here that I know would make a decent editor scream, so I can allow for all sorts of structural and grammatical variance. And, obviously, if English is not your native language, well, I understand. Really. Just don't get in here and type some mish mash of chat room-ese and expect me to take you seriously. I'm too old to go for all that cell phone style text messaging nonsense, so don't put it on my Blog if you want me to respond well.

Simple enough?

swan

Viva Viagra

It is a funny sort of clever commercial. Except that the medical problem is not funny.

We've dealt with erectile dysfunction and impotence (off and on) from the very beginning of our relationship. When we were first working to bring our lives together, the issue of sexual relating was one that we approached very carefully and very slowly as we came to know one another. He told me, in those very early days, that there would be no "normal" sex between us. I knew that, as I came into the relationship. Knew it and accepted it and loved Him and believed that we'd find our way.

We have done that and more. While our beginnings were very much impacted by what He believed was intractable ED, we very soon found that our sex life was plenty alive and kicking. We've enjoyed a very active sex life in these last years.

But... He deals with a whole raft of health issues, including type II diabetes, osteo arthritis, hypertension, and hyperlipidemia -- so many complicated health issues, and a host of medications to treat and control them all.

A few weeks ago, His doctor switched Him to a new medication to help control His blood pressure: a drug called Exforge. It is the latest thing, and has great promise. For us though, it was trouble. As the weeks went by, He felt progressively more and more crummy, and slowly but surely, His ability to get and maintain an erection vanished.

We fussed about it for a couple of weeks. We tried to work our way around it, but it bacame clear that things were not improving. Eventually, a return trip to the (very skeptical) doctor resulted in a (reluctant) change to a different medication, and things began to improve. It has been slow going and we aren't back to where we were. We are struggling with all of that. It impacts us way beyond the limits of our bedroom. We'll manage to get through it, but it has made things challenging.

And yes, if we can ever get the insurance company's prior authorization requirement handled, there will be Viagra in our future. Viva Viagra!

swan

Divided

This is me. This is the self-image that feels right to me. This is the way I think I look in the world. This is my "outside" face. I think this "me" is open and strong and happy and alive.

This is the face of an "adult" who chooses to live life on her own terms. This "me" is a slave, but that isn't something that shows on the outside, unless you know what to look for. I like this face, and I am proud to have come to be this woman.


Lately though, inside, where no one can see, this is how I feel... This is the face of the pouty, angry, brat that I can hear inside of my head more often than I like.

I don't believe in bratting, and I know better than to let this brat have free rein. I know that if this "me" came screaming out in real life, I'd be in a mess of trouble. I know exactly how bad that could be, and I'm not at all interested in going there. Still the "brat" stamps her foot and claims that "we" ought to get more of what "we" want. She is a wicked one.

I don't know what to do about her. I am spending a whole lot of time and energy keeping her quiet. I hope that, perhaps time will quiet her voice. Life will settle and the things that keep the "brat" at bay will come back into my life. Until then, I'm going to keep my hands over the ears of my mind, and keep on reminding myself that "I am His." Hopefully that will drown out the voice of the brat.

swan

I LOVE me some BiPM ... and other wanderings of my insane mind!

During the weekdays I "religiously" read the "Cheers and Jeers" postings on DailyKos by Bill in Portland Maine. His clever, insightful, and totally irreverent view of the political landscape makes me scream with laughter. Not a day goes by that I am not forwarding some bit of silliness to Tom and swan.

I just got done watching the "Sunday Talking Heads" and after applying ice to my forehead....note to self: STOP pounding your head on butcher block table....OUCH! And I remembered that I had NOT read the Friday "Cheers and Jeers". Soooo, I did. And found this:

JEERS to slick sleazebags. Considering the Republican mascot is the elephant, the GOoPers sure do have conveniently short memories. Led by John "I'll Say Anything To Get Elected" McCain, they're working together as a shrill gaggle to spin away the catastrophic oil spill that happened after Hurricane Katrina as a way to gin up support for more off-shore drilling. Even the crew inside the International Space Station can see that they're lying weasels. Which reminds me: the results are finally in from the Station's open primary (the last last last last last primary of the primary season). Congratulations, Rudy, on your landslide!

Have I mentioned that I LOVE BiPM? Have I also mentioned that he is gay...with a partner...and dog? Dang! I could be their chef!...Come on...........

Another tangent....we are participating the the state's PRIDE March, next weekend. We have been invited by the Gay community, as they do alot to sponsor the agency Tom leads, on a state level. I have been involved with the Gay community all of my life. In young adulthood, I was very involved with the community in my home town. I also supported the bars....but I digress. They have never, in my estimation, been an "Organized" community. Everything seems to run on "Sissy-time". Meaning, if the event is scheduled to start at 9am.....figure on 12noon! And this event seems to be the same. We were invited to participate SEVERAL months ago....and we still do not know if we are in a car....on a float....or what time our tired butts need to be there! We DO know that they have bought tons of condoms and adult toys to toss to the crowd...which ought to cause the State Director to have a heart attack, at the very least. But look for me....there..... somewhere.....in Pink Chiffon Panties!

And the last one.... we are having company from Europe in August...waving to Andrew & Hil! And I have been planning. It is what I do. I AM the "Clan Social Director", after all. And Tom just smiles indulgently at me when I get started....BUT even swan, is in the act. She suggested a calendar to organize the visit... I coulda crawled across the dining table, last night, and kissed her on the LIPS!! My organization usually makes her INSANE, but she is with me. We are a Sisterhood of TWO!! Indulgent Smiles, be damned. Sister-Hearts are organizing. So watch our Andrew & Hil.....you don't know what's about to swoop down upon you when you arrive....and don't forget your swim suits!

Well, time to frost the chocolate cake. Take care all, be kind to yourself and others!

T

Here I Am Now

David K. Reynolds is a psychotherapist who is an authority on Japanese psychotherapeutic methods. I found this piece that he wrote in "Thirsty, Swimming in the Lake:"

Today, walking along the beach, I spotted a rock, slick and shiny. It attracted my attention, and I picked it up. But on closer inspection it turned out to be shiny because it was wet. As it dried, the rock became ordinary. It was jsut a rock. I was disappointed at first, and I alomst threw it away. But the rock had been wonderfully smoothed by the sand and the waves. Although it was merely a plain rock ground smooth by the elements, it turned out to be worth keeping, even treasuring.

I found another rock as I walked the beach today. It, too, had been ground down and poliched by reality. It had no sharp edges anymore. When I walk too fast I miss these small, smooth rocks that so fascinate me. They are my cousins, somehow, models of what I would like to become. But here I am now.

Here...

I...

Am...

Now.

This is, I believe, an essential bit of personal learning if a person is going to follow their way into this lifestyle -- into slavery. It is necessary to come to understand that "now" is the important time. What is past is history, and what is future is entirely the stuff of dreams. There is no reality in that projecting backwards or forwards. Reality is critical to the one who would serve as slave.

I remember, in my early evolution into BDSM, that I asked some "more experienced" people I had come to know what it would be like once the "novelty" had worn off, and this had all become "commonplace" in my life. Their silence was deafening. They weren't at all critical, but it was also clear that they found the question to be so naive that answering it was almost inconceivable.

I understand now.

I am, at this moment, in the place that I wondered about way back in the beginning. I am in the life at a level that makes all of this feel "commonplace." I barely remember that eager, breathless, wide-eyed novice.

I've gotten my corners ground off. My surface has been smoothed and polished. Some will look at the life I live and find that there is very little that is remarkable, interesting, or exciting here anymore. They are, perhaps, right in some absolute sense. We have come to walk slower, spank less, sleep more. We've come to value the times when we manage to "make love" together -- nevermind that it isn't all that kinky.

Our past is our past. It is still visible as we look backwards through the mists. The place where we came from; the beginning for us. But it is gone, and we are learning that we cannot go back. The future is full of unanswerable questions. It is a mystery and a dream. I can get myself all worked up into a full-on tizzy when I get into fussing about what lies ahead. The truth is that we have this present moment. Whatever we planned or envisioned, whatever we might hope for, we are here. Now.

There is a peacefulness to finding the way to that awareness. It is good for me, to not reminisce and not anticipate. Far better for me to simply remember:

Here I am now.

swan

McCain and Humiliation Play?

Fair warning. My political attitudes will be clearly displayed in what follows. If you don't want to get into political "stuff," or if you are offended by the expression of definite liberal views, you may just want to move along your reading list.

I know that there are those in our lifestyle who take part in "humiliation play." Consensually, these folks "play" with words, names, and activities that are intended to push the psychological envelope. Danae went out and rounded up this list of definitions:

• to reduce to a lower position in one's own eyes or others' eyes : mortify


• to make someone feel ashamed or lose their respect for themselves


• loss of dignity: the feeling or condition of being lessened in dignity or pride


• lessening of somebody's dignity: the act of damaging somebody's dignity or pride


• The state of being humiliated, humbled or reduced to lowliness or submission


• state of disgrace or loss of self-respect* strong feelings of embarrassment

For those who play this way, name calling and the use of words that might be considered vulgar otherwise, can be a source of great eroticism.

It makes me wonder if perhaps, that is what John McCain, the presumptive Republican presidential nominee was up to when he referred to his wife, Cindy, as a "cunt" in 1992. It is interesting that most of us never, ever heard about it, even though it was done in a press conference, right in front of the press and broadcast media folks. Maybe it is just that McCain was at the cutting edge of bringing our lifestyle into the public eye and attempting to de-stigmatize what it is that we do. Do you think?

Here's a funny bit, done by Public Service Administration, that parodies the way the news media MIGHT have handled that incident:





Hehehehehehe!
swan

A "Momentous" Milestone

I imagine as literate scholars evaluate English discourse in the first part of the twenty-first century, they will likely overlook our literary efforts here. But, I want to take a moment to point out that looking at statcounter this morning our hits total has now broached the 250,000 hits barrier. This journal of our life and discussion with its readers has, since we began measuring our stats about a year after we began blogging, had a quarter of a million "hits". When we began with Swan's Heart December 21, 2004, and then evolved into The Heron Clan October 29, 2005 we never dreamed we'd ever see that much Internet traffic. It makes sense as well that there were likely about 50,000 hits in the time before we began monitoring our statistics with statcounter. We know too that there are a number of loyal readers and correspondents, who have come to follow us here, using reader services to follow us, whose presence with us does not register on statcounter, so who knows what our actual volume is.....maybe 350,000 or 400,000? At any rate we know from objective monitoring that we have over a quarter of a million hits.

One of the more amazing aspects of this is that we haven't "tried" to develop a readership. Now don't get me wrong. We love that fact that we have our readership, but we've never tried to particularly "satisfy" readers, or cater to them. We talk about our sexuality some but it is likely about 10% or what is discussed here. There is the occasional spanked/whipped butt picture but I can count those on one hand. Mainly we (and mostly swan) simply chronicle what is on our minds and what is in our lives good, bad, and indifferent. It is such a huge gift that you all have come here to read it

When we began here we were feeling alone and isolated. We were not comfortable with those we had met in our local kink community. We had few if any friends with whom we could be who we are without pretense. You all have given us the gift of community and friendship. You've given us opportunities to explain our thoughts and feelings. You've supported us through some difficult times and have celebrated some high points with us too. Some of you have given us the gift of allowing us to help you. A few have even become real time friends. This Blog has been a lifeline for us and we are always pleased when we are told it serves a purpose in others lives. I cannot imagine a life where I don't get up and turn on my laptop first thing to see what happened on the Blog last night and check out our stats.

Thank you for reading and discussing here. Thank you most to my swan for taking my directive to make a Blog to break through her isolation and loneliness and creating a superb place for us to meet and share with friends.

Tom

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

Sharing Our Gifts

My friend, Sara left this interesting comment on the post about the "Roots of Guilt":

I think the public/private division is really one of personal choice and taste. For us the intensity, the eroticism and yes, the spiritual nature of our DD marriage, is enhanced by the privacy we maintain. We feel part of the power comes from it being exclusivelely between us. That meets our needs, and because it is just between us, we feel it is more special.

I find myself thinking about the gifts that we are all given. Gifts. Yes.

I have come to understand that this way of being and relating and loving is a gift -- unique and wonderful. It is as essential to my life and being as my physical body; every bit as much a part of me as my intellect; intimately woven through my spirit life. It fires my passion, opens my heart, widens my perceptions, and quiets my mind. It calls me to take the risk to love deeply and with intent. There is no way to do this and remain aloof, disconnected, or casual.

Indeed, I am the recipient of a range of gifts and positive enhancements to my life and my personal journey that probably would not have accrued had I been gifted with some more "typical" sexual/erotic orientation.

One of the "teachers" in my life tells this story about gifts: Every year, as the Christmas holiday approached, he would buy gifts for all of his friends and family. He'd invest a significant amount of time and energy and expense, selecting the perfect gift for each person on his list. As he acquired each gift, he'd take them home and put them on the shelf in the closet. One day, his son happened to notice the "stash," and asked him about it. When the father explained that these were gifts for Christmas, his son told him, "They aren't gifts if they aren't given." It is a simple idea with powerful implications.

And that's where I come back to Sara's statement about keeping the intensity and eroticism and spirituality of our BDSM experiences "private." I really do understand the urge to do that; to take this wondrous, almost magical, incredibly intimate, connective WOW experience -- and hold it close to our chests. There is the real drive and desire to not risk exposing ourselves and our precious "find" to the world. Because the world can be less than kind; the world can be downright mean and nasty; the world can threaten us in a million different ways. It seems way safer to keep our gifts out of sight and "private."

Except that, when we do that, we lose the opportunity to GIVE them to one another. And I think that the choice to not GIVE in this fashion is rooted in the stories we've all been told -- that if it was about sex, it was wanton and vulgar, and not to be shared openly.

I don't know how many of us will find our way to shaking off those messages. I don't know how many of us will find a way to balance the anticipated risks with the potential benefits. I only know that I have found great power in taking this part of who I am and manifesting it in the community that knows it and understands it for what it is. In that act, the intimacy is multiplied, the power is enhanced, and the magic is made visible to all who share the moment.

swan

Happy Anniversary to Us!

7 years ago today, (Sgt. Pepper Taught the Band to Play”…oops! I digress) I married the love of my life. It hasn’t been a normal marriage to most people’s standards. But it has been a much more that I ever thought it could be.

We were floating in the pool around 10pm when Tom said “Wanna get married Saturday?” We had been engaged for awhile and neither of us was in any great rush to be wed, since we had been together for a few years already. I was shocked. “Married??? Saturday???? THIS Saturday???” I asked. Then he explained that a city judge was going to marry people for free, if they just showed up with license in hand. I told him we didn’t have enough time to pull anything together and he laughingly agreed. The next day, at work, my co-worker asked me if I was getting married the next day. I was floored. What was the deal? Some big cosmic event happening that everyone was out to get me hitched? I told her I didn’t have time; we didn’t even have a license. She said that the 2 of us had been through so much and deserved to be happy together, forever. She suggested I look into what it would take….I called Tom and said “Wanna get married tomorrow”? HIS turn to be shocked. Turned out, we could get a license. We could pull together a suit for him and a dress for me. I could find flowers, champagne, and a sugar-free cake. And on the HOTTEST DAY OF 2001, I married Tom. We were without family that day, but as we came out of the room, people up and down the halls congratulated us and hugged us and wished us the very best. We suddenly became part of an extended community of well-wishers.

7 Years…. We have had our moments. Trying to blend me into a family who was not very enthusiastic in the beginning. Coping with health issues, work schedules, moves, life and death….we have been through it all. And we have our Swan.

Life is good. I found the love of my life when I thought I was done looking. And it is really, really good.

Happy Anniversary, my Bee-Bee. Here’s to many mores and mores.

T

Guilt -- Roots?

Our family has, in the last few weeks/months, made the acquaintance of several people who are new to the lifestyle, curious about the lifestyle, or making a transition from one sort of BDSM practice (or perceived set of roles) to another. Our new friends comprise an interesting cross-section of people with a wide range of relational dynamics and desires. We don't pretend to have "answers," although we do gladly offer to share what we've learned along the way with anyone who has the patience to listen to us all babble on about what it is that we do.


There is so much that someone "new" to all of this wants/needs to know. For us, it really is a matter of listening carefully, responding openly, and then sharing the fruits of our journeying over the years.


One thing that has come up with a couple of these people is the notion that there is something about all of this that might/can/should engender guilt (or some similar emotion). There is a lot that fuels that reaction. It is based on a set of assumptions and social beliefs that are so convoluted, it can take weeks or months or even years to unravel it and begin to sort it all out. I don't pretend to be any kind of expert, but I do think that, until a person comes to terms with that set of assumptions and beliefs, it is very difficult to move forward into a healthy and joyful BDSM relationship dynamic.


So, let me see if I can get to some of the roots of this kind of guilty reaction...

I really believe that the most likely source of BDSM-related guilt is the connection between almost all of what constitutes BDSM and sex. I know and acknowledge that there is the sort of Dominance/submission relationship that is not specifically (or even remotely) sexual. There are relationships that are entirely and purely based on service. At least that is what I have heard and read. I've never personally met anyone involved in such a dynamic. Almost always, at some level, it is about sex/romance/love.


Power is sexy. Power is erotic. Power is hot. If I give my power, if it is taken and used to move me in ways I cannot control or direct, that can give my partner and I, both, a huge arena in which to explore our sexual natures.


What makes that so difficult for so many of us is that we mostly come from a social background that tells us (from the time we are very small) that sex is bad, sick, wrong, crude, vulgar, dirty, perverted, nasty, disgusting, ... It is so disgusting in fact, that it must absolutely be saved for the marriage relationship (huh?). Even then, it must only be engaged in within certain very tightly defined boundaries. Anything that is outside of the approved sexual expression list, is cause for extreme guilt.

Much of that is driven by traditional religious dogma and convention. I know that my own Roman Catholic upbringing was pervaded with messages that made it clear to me what was considered "good, Christian" behavior for a girl and/or woman, and what was outside that boundary. The church told me not to be sexual, not to enjoy sex, not to seek out sex, not to display my sexual nature, not to entertain my sexual desires. The church taught me that I could aspire to no higher vocation for my life than to follow the path of sexless, life-long chastity, but that, if I simply had to succumb to the lures of SEX, a church-sanctioned marriage was the only way to do that and still be OK. Even then, the church emphasized that I was to engage in sex for one purpose only -- that of procreation. If I wasn't willing to become pregnant and bear children, I was taught that there was no justification for sex. It is a mean and nasty sort of theology.

Even outside the church, there were a myriad of messages about what it meant to step outside the sexual norms. It was common, in my adolescence, for girls who flirted with sex to be saddled with the perjorative labels which identified them as irretrievably fallen from grace: slut, whore, floozy, tramp, loose, cock tease... And I am old enough to remember friends who took the risks, found themselves pregnant, and were then "sent away" to bear their "shame" in secret.


So that was the background for my coming of age sexually -- the air we all breathed in the years of my childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. I know that it is nominally a newer world where those judgements are less common or at least less vitriolic, but I believe that they are still there, although less overt. I certainly hear them in the language my students use -- even when they seem completely unaware of the implications of what they say to one another.

But there is more. Because we are not just talking about a little good old fashioned, roll-in-the-hay sex. We are talking about BDSM. We are thinking in terms of sadomasochism, bondage, Dominance and submission, discipline, humiliation, objectification, and a whole range of kinks. It is all so -- well, perverse. Isn't it? That question continues to be raised. The labels continue to be applied. Never mind that BDSM has been removed from the list of paraphilias listed in the DSM-V. A pretty cursory Internet search will turn up plenty of references that will lead one to question the state of one's mental stability -- "what the hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I just be normal." I know I've asked that question more than once.


And then there is the fact that what it is that we do can land one in all sorts of social trouble. People find themselves unemployed, arrested, in child custody battles. To come to be generally known as a BDSM practitioner can lead directly to the role of social parriah. It is the rare practitioner in the lifestyle that finds it possible to share much about their life with friends, family, co-workers, worship community, teachers at their child's school, or health care providers. There are those who, by whatever circumstance, are able to be "out" in varying degrees, but for many, following a lifestyle path, means spending a good part of one's life in disguise. That has its own crippling side-effects.

Too, for many of us there is the expectation that modern-day feminism places on us -- to be strong, to be independent, to take care of ourselves, to follow our own paths. I know. I am a feminist. I've fought the battles for years, and believe the foundational doctines of that religion: that women are different than men, but ought to be treated as political, social, and economic equals; that all men and women deserve equal access to the opportunities within our society; that no one ought to be relegated to the background on the basis of their gender... A strong femininst ethic can seem to stand at odds with a personal inclination toward submission and/or masochism. How do you fit those two together with any kind of integrity?



That's a heavy load, and it is, by no means, an exhaustive list. Many of us grapple, at some level, with a set of stories that bear a resemblance to that set of "notions." And, then, we turn up with a personal understanding of "who we are" that drives us into an exploration of lifestyle SM and D/s or M/s. Talk about cognitive dissonance! So what can be done, to wind through the thickets and find some sort of peace and personal comfort with who we are as sexual/erotic beings within that context?



Every person is going to have their own set of solutions and answers. Here are a few of mine:



1) Religion/spirituality -- I was already on a path of discovery in my spiritual life by the time I began to actively explore BDSM. I already knew that, for me at least, the set of beliefs that I'd been taught as a child did not work for me as an adult. That isn't always the case as people come into the lifestyle. So, one of the first steps to take, if personal faith is in conflict with sexual drives is to evaluate systematically and carefully. I believe it is helpful to honestly and openly ask questions:

• What do I believe?
• Why do I believe this?
• Where did I acquire this belief?
• Is there any reasonable, logical foundation to the things that I believe?
• Have I ever "fact checked" any of the stories I was told as a child?
• How would my life be different if I came to relinquish the belief system that I have held to from my youth?
• What is the value of this belief system in my life?
• Does my sense of who I am rest irretrievably on my adhering to this set of beliefs?

Next, I believe that it is necessary, when one chooses to practice BDSM, to make friends with the bodies we occupy. One of my favorite authors, Kathleen Norris, wrote in her book Dakota, about the importance of personal geography -- the value of a sense of personal rootedness. Just as coming to a sense of attachment and belonging to a place, I believe it is necessary to become attached to and rooted to our personal, physical selves. Our bodies are, for each and all of us, our ultimate and essential personal geography. We live nowhere except that we live in our own skins. We may not be able, for a variety of reasons, to be "out" to friends, family, co-workers, and the other inhabitants of our lives, but we simply must come "out" to ourselves. To find the contours and topography of our own sexual selves brings us into self-acceptance and a loving celebration of our own glory as part of the creation. Acknowledging the gifts we have been given, embracing the uniqueness of our sensual expression brings our hearts and minds and bodies into alignment with one another. None of that can change the way the outside world views us, but it can go a long way to making the words we tell to ourselves be affirming and positive.

The social stigma of what it is that we do is a reality and a fact. It is unfortunate. It is not fair or just. It can be dealt with and managed. It is important to make pro-active, self-determined decisions about what it is that we share with those who are not into the lifestyle. No one NEEDS to know about our interior lives. For some, it is healthy to be very open and honest about their internal lifestyle dynamics. Each one who can go openly into the world, educating and advocating, clears the path to a more open future for all of us. Still, it should be by choice and with care that we share who we are with those who might not understand. Know that such sharing can have benefits, but may also have real costs. Choose carefully what you share and with whom.

As for the political drumbeat of feminism. I sincerely believe it need not be a philosophy that lives in conflict with the choice to engage in personal power dynamics. Without personal power to lay on the table, the power exchange becomes pretty meaningless. There is nothing weak about choosing a path that deliberately explores the nature of power, how it might be balanced, and what it means to relinquish it. We choose to explore and live at the outer edges of the human sexual/erotic experience. It is a choice that requires great courage and personal strength.

The trick, through it all, is to come to this with awareness, personal integrity, courage, and openess. It is possible to live healthy, happy and whole in the midst of the lifestyle -- nevermind what the rest of all those people might say.

swan

Spanking

I came to grips with the reality that I am a masochist years ago. I haven't always been particularly happy with that fact -- indeed, there have been times when I have railed at the "unfairness" of being saddled with such a challenging sexual/erotic orientation. I have, honestly, sometimes wished, quite simply, that life could just let me be a regular/normal sexual person.

Oh well.

I am a masochist and I need spanking. It isn't an entirely physical thing. For me, there is a huge emotional component to the engagement of a spanking.

In the last weeks, He has backed off of spanking almost entirely. The reason(s) for that are really not important to discuss -- a giant swirl of circumstances and pressures and interpreted responses. The outcome of it all was that He drew away, inside His own mind, to a place where, even when He did move to spank me, it was a perfunctory sort of encounter that clearly did not excite Him, and left me feeling as if I'd somehow forced Him into something that He found distasteful.

I've spent this time trying to simply accommodate. I am the kind of slave who, at least at the intellectual level, understands that it isn't about what I might want or need. I do know that this is supposed to run on His schedule and not mine. So, I've occupied myself with work and taking care of the things that always need taken care of -- and tried not to worry or fuss or think about it.

But, for me, spanking is all wrapped up with connection and feeling loved. He has been steadfast in assuring me that He loves me, and I believe Him. Except that I can't feel it. If He doesn't spank, He doesn't TOUCH me. Oh, He snuggles and He hugs, but there is something powerful in the flow of energy when He paddles and straps and canes me that bangs through all my defenses and makes me know Him entirely. Without that, I drift further and further away until I am left feeling lost and abandoned. As that sense of being "left alone" grows and grows in me, I become increasingly frightened and emotionally volatile.

Finally, in the last few days, I've begun to ask, tentatively and gently for some "play" time. Knowing that all the issues are still in place, knowing that my struggling with our kind of playing has been part of the reason that He has pulled away, still, I asked -- begged even, for the reassurance that comes with a tender and throbbing butt. He has indulged me in this -- yesterday and today, with two sessions which have left me quite sore. Somehow, He has reawakened and come back to the kind of play I remember from so long ago (where He pleases Himself and does not respond or react to what I might "like").

I can feel the softness flowing back into me -- that sense of being in the right place, safe and cared for. I am simply, feeling happy and at peace. So, there it is: spanking makes me happy. Probably, that isn't surprising or even particularly interesting news to most people, but to me, it is a piece of information that I've resisted coming to terms with. That resistance has made this all more difficult.

I can be such a piece of work.

swan

You Have to Laugh -- Or You Would Cry

We are not as young or as innocent as these two, but somedays -- it sure feels like we must be missing the boat somehow... Do you think?

Between my issues and His diabetes/age, we seem to be asking this question more and more frequently...

Old age is an interesting passage... Oh yes.

swan

MAGIC REVISITED

Six years ago tomorrow, June 6, my swan obeyed my summons and arrived here to be with us as a family member and my beloved. She is with us still and will be tomorrow and always. She has recounted how this came to be here and here.

My/our lives have never been the same. She makes them fabulously richer each day.

We are not the same as we were six years ago in our beings or in our relationship. We are all of us dealing with aging and changes that you cannot understand unless you've lived them and that if you have you'd perhaps rather not have. I'd have no other. I'd have no younger than her or t.

I love you my swan, my slave, my life with your sister heart.

Six years is an achievement against all odds economically, socially, politically, medically, etc. ....blah, blah.... all barriers we face are bullshit and nothing in the face of our love. We will have decades more. Our only earthly limits are those that define our mortality.


I love you.



You are.............



Mine Always and All Ways,



Tom



Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined.

HAPPY NA-NA-VERSARY!!!!!!

6 Years ago tomorrow Swan joined our family. She became my dearest Sister-Heart and missing half....and Tom's beloved.

I remember their arrival in the Toyota Truck. A few personal belongings and one TICKED-OFF Cleo in a cage. He-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless was with her and we all did our best to include him in our family.

I was scared and cautious and she loved me anyhoo.

Today, I haven't a CLUE how I survived without her all of my life. She completes our family. She cares for us when we need it. She shares her life and home with us. She makes me a better, stronger woman. And loves us unconditionally....and we CAN be a handful, at times!

I love you, Sue.

I am thrilled to call you Sister-Heart. May we have many, many more na-na-versaries as a Clan.

T