Talking to "Normal" People

Sometimes I chat with people on the Loving More Chat site. Not often. I quite often find the place deadly quiet or else just plain dull, but sometimes I pop in there and find one or two interesting folks talking about something besides meeting up to get it on (it is after all a chat room for people into polyamory, however people define that)...

Last evening, I encountered a man there who seemed well educated and interesting. We started off talking about his "second career" endeavors into spiritual healing and the work of McFetridge. He told me about a book by this author called "Peak States of Consciousness" and detailed his studies in this field and his hopes to become a healer.

As we talked, a woman entered the room for just a few minutes. She was there just long enough to catch on to our conversation, engage just a little bit, and then pose a question of her own: "what did we know about hierarchy in poly relationships?" I told her I wasn't sure exactly how she was using the word and asked her to describe her own relationship so I could better understand what she meant. She replied that she was wife 2 and secondary; that wife number 1 was primary and also had the power to decide whether their husband would take on additional wives whether she liked it or not. At that point, she said she had been requested to go get food for the family and had to leave. The man I'd been chatting with told her it seemed to him that she was uncomfortable in her home, and she replied that that was true, and she was gone...

The two of us were left pondering for a moment, and I commented that it seemed the lady might be involved in some sort of power exchange relationship, and that she did not seem entirely at ease with it. He agreed, and said that, although he was always reluctant to encourage people to leave relationships, he felt that egalitarian relationships were the only kind that could be healthy.

I found his comment a bit extreme, and explained that I was in a power exchange relationship, and believed that it was indeed healthy and strong. We proceeded to discuss the nature of the relationship between Master and I, both in practical terms, and from my perspective of that life choice as "transformative."

I explained to him that our M/s relationship is founded on an acknowledgment and response by both of us of our inherent sexual/erotic orientations. I explained to him that I'd lived many years in what the society views as a "normal" sexual relationship, and that doing that required me to deny and suppress and hide my true nature and self in ways that were demeaning and damaging, that it is THIS relationship that allows me to express who I really am without hiding, deceit, or shame. I also described to him that, in my view, all relationships engage in power exchange (even those that seem very mundane). It is simply that we choose to handle our power exchange consciously and deliberately and with intent. This, I told him is about my "identity."

I also told him that M/s relies on openness and integrity and transparency. It eliminates the sort of game playing that is so often a common feature of relationships in the "normal" realm. Because all of who I am is given to my partner, I am obliged to give Him all of my responses, all my reactions, all of my feelings, needs, fears, desires. What He chooses to do about these things is His part of the equation. Mine is the giving.

I explained that part of the path for me is about remaining "humble." That submitting to the will of another is an exercise in remaining aware of who I am. The collar I wear, the services I provide, the choices I am given or not given are all ways of reminding me that I have given my control and my power to another, and done so willingly.

Finally, I tried to explain to him about being obedient. I told him that, whatever I do, the measure of my success or failure comes down to the question of "did I obey?" It is the keystone of our M/s relationship. The basic agreement is that He can command/ask/order, and I have only to obey as best I am able. Beyond that effort, I might not make a success of it, but the attempt to obey is my measurement criteria.

The fellow was fine (well, mostly fine) until we got to that obey thing. On that bit, I could tell he was really stuck. Could I give him examples? I talked about simple things like what I eat and the chores I do. He was unconvinced. His wife does these things as he would do for her, and any sensible adult eats a healthy diet. I stepped up a notch. He understood the SM -- weird but OK. So I spoke to the nature of our polyamory; that while it might be that Master would find a partner to play with and not necessarily seek my "approval," I most assuredly would not make a relational pairing without His permission and approval. It is the nature of our dynamic.

That really did it.

He was immediately, aggressively hostile. He declared that he understood exactly what was going on here: We are engaged in a parent-child model where I have chosen to stay locked in a child-like state of codependency. Master has assumed the parental role and is enabling me to remain pathologically dependent on Him for decisions that no healthy adult would allow another to make for them. We all develop at different rates, but when people reach an age and have still not achieved independent and mature developmental adult status on their own, it is time to seek out professional help...

Shazzam!!!

I thanked him very much for his diagnosis. He quickly apologized for offending me. I told him that I was not offended; that I'd met narrow-minded, frightened people who were unwilling to learn anything beyond what their pre-conceived assumptions told them before this. I explained to him that those of us who practice BDSM were removed from the list of "pathologies" years ago, and that I'd fought long and hard to find personal acceptance for my sexuality and my orientation -- too long and too hard to be crammed back into that box by an arrogant, self-proclaimed "healer" who was too ignorant to recognize a teacher when one appeared in his life.

Then I thanked him for his time, wished him a lovely evening, expressed good wishes for his future endeavors, and logged off.

I may be pathological and co-dependent and locked in a childish relationship, but I do know my manners. Blech!!!!

swan

State of Mind

Paul commented on the last post: "I wonder at your state of mind."

It seems I have shown more of my "self" than I've believed. Those of you who read here regularly "read" what I don't even write...

The state of my mind, like the state of my body is shaken, weakened. I am not feeling strong, and that frightens me.

I am not finding it easy to define the way I am feeling these days. If I could put simple words to the sense of unsettledness and malaise, then I think it would be much simpler to address it. For me and for my family. As it is, I am finding myself not fitting with myself, and that is an "itchy" sort of feeling.

At the core of all of this is the question of who? I identify as "slave." It is not just something I do. It is who I am. What I am. I know that I am slave in the very depth of my being. Will be that as long as I draw breath. More than that I am His slave. The first is inherent. The last is gift and joy and honor. The one cannot be changed. The other could be wiped out in a breath.

I know, in my truest mind, that I've been difficult, fussy, hurt, self-absorbed, pissy, bitchy, bitter, angry, resentful, mistrustful, uncertain... A whole raft of ugly emotions these last weeks. Demanding that the promises made show up somehow, somewhere that I can see them. Give me some proof, that what everyone tells me is going to be an improvement in my life is not so much CRAP -- because I'm getting pretty damn tired of holding on to the hope that everyone wasn't just stringing me along with some sort of cruel joke. Mostly, Master has been patient and gentle with that insanity... Mostly. Insane slaves are just insane. What are you going to do? Beat them as you can and hope they get better quick.

I've gone to what I know. Identify. Wear my collar. Remember the things that remind me who I am. Serve as I can. Pour out my doubts as clearly as I can, and then try to really listen and believe Him when He tells me it will be better in time. Try and keep my mind quiet. Hold on. Read the things that calm me. Go deep inside to the times and practices that I know. Try and keep the voices that make me most crazy quiet.

I know I am not strong. I know how to be still, though. Sometimes, still can substitute for strong. If I can wait long enough, my strength will grow and I'll remember who I am again.

Ultimately, I know that I know how to hear the answers. I know I can do this. I know I don't have to be afraid. I know that I am doing the work of my slavery in these days, even if it looks shaky to me. I just have to keep on the path and not cut and run like the scared rabbit that I so feel like just now.

That is the "state of my mind," Paul.

swan

Slavery is for the Brave

Most of the last years of my formal religious association were with Quakers (Religious Society of Friends). There are factions to friends, but I spent my time with what unprogrammed Friends meetings, where the form of worship is nominally "silent," and where there is no formal or paid clergy.

I came to know, over my years with Friends, many amazing, good, dedicated people, who had lived their lives pursuing many worthy causes. Many of them do their work with great zeal and much good intent and good will.

As one who came to understand that I would forever strive and aspire to live up to the ideals that were embodied in the Quaker testimonies that I learned as I studied the faith and practices of Friends, I became, over the years I spent with them, a keen observer of Quaker culture. One phenomenon that I came to notice with fair regularity was that many lifelong Quakers lived their lives with one eye on their "memorial" service.

As with all other unprogrammed Friends worship services, Friends celebrate the end of life with a Meeting for Worship. This service is held, as are all other worship services, in 'silence." Typically, this means that the gathering comes together at the appointed hour and settles in quietly and with no apparent worship leader. There is no "order of service," and no music, no readings, no liturgy of any sort. Friends gather together to meditate and pray in silence. The belief is that such a gathering will be led by the Spirit, and that whatever "truth" arises from spirit will be spoken, spontaneously, by those in attendance. As Friends are moved to speak, they simply rise to their feet and speak whatever message they feel they have been given to speak to the assembled gathering. Usually, in memorial Meetings for Worship, the messages have to do with remembrances of the deceased... A good memorial meeting typically is far from "silent" as packed Meeting rooms of Friends and non-(F)friends pour forth their best memories of the departed.

I've been pondering that sort of ending here lately as I think about how my life has come to be. Interesting to contemplate that sort of focusing out into some future where a hypothetical gathering might come together to "remember."

The reality is that there is likely not going to be much of a gathering when it comes down to the end of my days. Choosing to focus as intently on a single point, as I have, means something very specific. Much of my life is internal. Much of who I am is hidden. Even where my "life" is lived out in the world, it remains largely invisible to those with whom I work. I keep myself away from my students and my colleagues. I do not socialize except at very minimal levels. I do not share about my private life. I have no social context. I have pared away my connections to friends, to family, to outside. I am slave. I am owned. Should that reality become fully revealed, my life would be destroyed -- our lives would be destroyed. It cannot be known, must not be known. Those who were my past, have mostly gone away. Those who would be my present are strictly limited and constrained by my reality. Those who might be my future are viewed with care and deep suspicion. There is no great gathering of those who know me...

I am dedicated inside my life. It is the path I have chosen and which continues to be chosen for me and by me.

There are some who believe that this is a path that is about sex. There are those who believe that this is a game or a pose or something light and fun and simply a facade that is put on like a costume that one dons for a party or a special event. Some play at this and find it amusing. I read around, and see those who play at power exchange because they think it is exciting and adds a little interest to their relationship. Sometimes people ask what it is that powers this for those of us who do this, why we put up with it, or even why we write about it. Many people fail to see what it is that makes this any different than those in vanilla relationships who iron and cook and treat each other nicely everyday. That is foolishness. This is not for those who are not willing to walk mostly alone. And to finish alone.

Slavery is for the brave.

swan

Dr. Visit Update

Went and saw the doctor today as scheduled.

Things are coming along fine. I am healing but not healed. There are still stiches on the inside, and it is still way more tender than I expected. I was really not prepared for that. So another ten days before there can be any sexual intercourse. Major disappointment.

I am also still significantly anemic. Even though I've been taking additional iron supplements right along. That was an issue before the surgery, and the doctor says that it is common for patients to drop two points because of the surgery. I was 10.3 before surgery (normal is 12). Todays I measured 9.6. Not fabulous. No wonder I'm so tired. I have to go back in a month to do some more blood work. It is clear that she is starting to be more than just a little worried about that part of life...

She did release me to go back to work in another week. If I restrict my time on my feet -- sit down about half the time and don't do anything other than the teaching day. No extra activities. She really would have preferred another week off, but we compromised.

I did have the FISTING talk with her, and she was very good with me. Never batted an eye. She assures me that there is still just as much room as there was before, and that once things have finally healed, in two to four months, we can try that again as long as we go very slowly and carefully. So that was a relief. The part I was most worried about turned out fine.

It was just all the other stuff, that I thought would be a piece of cake that isn't as good as I thought it would be...

I'm not sure how I feel. Relieved for the long run and disappointed for the short term. Oh well, I'm sure that it will all be fine eventually. It is all going to be "fabulous" someday. That's what I keep hearing. I'm trying to keep on believing.

Right now, I'm just trying to keep believing in Feb. 6. That's 10 days. The day after my birthday. We'll maybe get to see if this sucker actually still works worth a damn.

swan

Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!

I am almost afraid to let the excitement start to take hold of me. It is still months away. There are plenty of ways that this could fall apart. Even talking about it seems risky -- the merest whisper seems like a really good way to jinx it.

BUT ... I am so excited, and this is so much something good to look forward to after a really long tough year of struggling and slogging and sometimes just working hard to get through to tomorrow for our family...

We have plans to go to THUNDER IN THE MOUNTAINS (http://www.thunderinthemountains.com/) this summer!!!

For us, that is simply a wonderful, fabulous, amazing treat on so many levels:

• Always we love the chance to attend leather, BDSM events. There is something freeing about being with other BDSM lifestylers in a setting where WE are the majority. For that small space of time, the locale becomes "liberated" territory, and our way of being and thinking becomes the norm. The vanilla world drops away, and for just a little while, we can drop our masks and our sense of being "other" and simply be who we most truly are. For us, who live most of our lives in hiding out of necessity, it is sheer luxury to be able to be so open and so relaxed with others who share our view of life in some degree.
• This kind of event offers the chance to learn and to share and to teach with practitioners of the arts of the life (from ritual cutting, to tieing a rope harness, to swinging a singletail, to writing a will for a poly household). It is one thing to read about what it is we do. It is something altogether different to actually see and touch and listen and talk with real people who really do this. There is simply no substitute for real-time face to face talk with those who know their craft.
• Did I mention playing in the dungeon? Scary, thrilling, exhilarating, challenging... all at once...
• This is an opportunity to reconnect with some in the scene that we only get to see at "events." Thank goodness there are events that bring our still fairly small community together periodically.
• Always there exists the possibility that we'll meet some friends who, until now, we've only known on-line. Wouldn't that be fabulous? Hint, Hint, Hint.
• We will have the time to travel together for a real, extended family vacation. This will be the first time we've done that (for more than a long weekend) ever. Master and I traveled to Thunder two years ago, but T wasn't able to go with us. Having been the single-handed schlepper of His stuff for 10 days on the road that time, I am more than glad that there will be two of us to load and unload the caravan each day. Have I mentioned that Sir does not travel lightly?
• For me, Denver is "old stomping ground territory." A visit there means I might even get to connect with at least one of my grown children, see some of the sights that are dear to my heart, share some old favorite eateries with my dear loves...

Dare I say that my heart is bouncing? Got to heal, got to get registered, got to make plans... Can't wait!!!

Anyone want to meet up / join us there?

swan

Practicing

I see my doctor on Friday. It will be four weeks. I wish I could say that I feel ready to go full speed again, but I know that is not the truth. I am clear that I am really not ready to go back to school. I just don't have the energy yet. Unless something miraculous happens in the next two days, I am just not going to be ready. I'm going to need another week, and much as I hate it, I'm going to have to have the integrity to say so. Damn!

That's the easy part.

Most likely, there will be some verdict rendered on whether or not we can resume normal, garden-variety, "vanilla" sexual relating. Good old fashioned, "Hop on Pop" style sex. I have all my fingers and toes crossed for an affirmative on that one. I am way beyond hungry, horny, ready to go... Could we get a "start your engines" please?

More easy stuff. Inscrutable, Chinese doctor Lady has been getting the sex question from me since before the surgery, and at every opportunity since. Nothing too tough with that one.

Here's where it gets a little heavier, from my perspective... This is the doctor/patient conversation that I am anticipating, mulling over in my head, scripting, practicing, and hyperventilating over:

"I am embarrassed about asking this.

But I need to know and I don't know who else to ask that I can trust.

My partner and I used to really enjoy vaginal fisting. We were really careful about it, and it was something that gave us both great pleasure and joy and intimacy.

In the last year, I came to be unable to tolerate it because the fibroids just made it too painful to tolerate. I've missed it terribly.

Now, I don't know if I will ever be able to tolerate it again. I don't know, with this surgery, what I can expect. I don't know how my insides are arranged any more, what sort of capacity or structure there is.

I don't want to do harm, and I am so uncertain.

Please, help me to know what I can do to return to full sexual functioning? What can we enjoy again as a couple? Will we ever be able to engage in fisting again?"

If I live through that and come out the other side still breathing, it will be nothing short of miraculous if I can hear what she tells me. I wish I had an old fashioned tape recorder. Honestly, I feel like a 12 year old just dealing with my first menstrual period. This is crazy.

It isn't like this business of fisting is something I've never shared with anyone. I've been fisted in public for goodness sake, and more than once! I'm not really that shy about the actual act. I think that it is the notion of talking about it with someone who is "official" and "mainstream" and has the potential of judging. For me, the experience of fisting has always been not only enormously intimate, but also something that has been very closely connected with the part of my life that is NOT "vanilla." I am terrified that it may forever be gone as an option, and that the final removal of that part of my life may come with a scintilla of judgment that will make that even more painful. I am anticipating the loss accompanied by that psychological slap...

I so hope I am wrong...

Practicing my little speech... Trying to be ready. Trying to calm my mind, so that I can do this and get the information that I need to have. I just need to get to and through Friday. And in my head, all I can hear is a steady drumming of "Please, please, please, please..."

swan

Days of Learning

These have been a difficult couple of days. The reasons are not important. Suffice it to say that I've encountered some challenges to my submission that have left me shaken and feeling uncertain of myself.

Control issues are sometimes tricky things. I got hurt, and I reacted in a fashion that turned passive aggressive -- remaining outwardly polite and compliant, but becoming personally cold, and unavailable -- withdrawing emotionally. That response masked an inward turmoil as I weighed the reality that is slavery when it turns hard: the lack of options, the utter absence of outs or choices at the point when the "self" most desperately wants out. I've thought to run away, to try and disappear inside, to hurt myself, to do worse... I've battered myself against the bars of my mind until I've literally worn myself to a shred. I've talked myself round and round and round in the circles that go absolutely nowhere -- about choices and no choices, about what does and does not matter, about what I should and should not care about or focus on, about who does and does not get to control any of this, about feelings that amount to so much smoke on the wind, about being worthy of the name, "slave," about living up to what I say, about keeping my commitments and my word... Until I am completely, utterly, totally exhausted. And ashamed. And no closer than I was when I began. Broken. Lost.

He met my recalcitrance with anger. Called me on my foolishness. Dropped me to my knees. Challenged me to either live the truth of the slavery I claim or stop pretending. Refused to be swirled into my game. Heard my hurt, and left it squarely in my lap. Mine. Alone. I have so much still to learn, so far to go. So much still to give up if I am to ever "get" this. Nevermind what has already been accomplished, learned, given, paid. If this path demands more, then that will be required as well. Nothing behind me, and nothing ahead of me -- only this and nothing more. Slaves cannot expect anything. Learn.

Grow as you are meant to be. Like the vision that shapes the bonsai... No more battering against the boundaries. Roots will be trimmed close to keep the tree growing strong and healthy in the image that is seen in the mind of the One who sees the final product. There is no "away" and there is no "outside" and there is no "more."

Perhaps that is the lesson of these days. If I can lose the cage that my mind sees, I can maybe put down my roots and grow like the lovely bonsai. Whatever, I need to stop making excuses for these events that throw me into such a spin. He doesn't want to hear it. He wants my heart in full accord with Him. The rest is silly foolishness, and He'll have none of that. That much is clear.

swan