Nurturance

 I listen to quite a few people on topics related to integrative medicine. My husband is a big believer in an integrative approach for cancer and I instinctively feel that there is so much merit to looking at life style and the mind for a sensible approach to healthy aging and happy living.

Deepak Chopra is on the record saying, 'Emotional trauma is the beginning of disease' and I feel the same way. When we are in turmoil on the inside that's when the body and mind have little choice but to believe that something is seriously wrong with this Being.

Michal Singer said in his podcast series (I listen on Spotify) that when a disregulated feeling occurs, to go away and relax the body and let the feeling release.  

I have noticed within myself for some time a sense that I need to rely on myself. It's not just a need perpetuated by circumstance - the pandemic, for example - but a need for this Being to be quiet; deliberate; self generating.

Some examples of this are the self-hugging I learned in yoga classes; befriending myself (accepting all parts of myself as welcome), walking alone, yoga online (we are in lockdown) and looking to be alone and silent as much as possible.

A thought has been simmering away, and gaining momentum more recently, that my interactions with some people aren't really in any way equal. Equal is a loaded word. It's hard to define equality since relationships have built into them a sense of give and take, with the scales tipped in one direction sometimes and in the other direction at other times. But, I don't mean that sort of 'not equal'.

What I mean is that I began to get a sense that I was there for the other person, not for them to be a source of friendship or comfort as I was for them, not with that empathic desire that is inbuilt in me, but rather as a stable presence for them.

This feeling didn't occur with just one person but with a handful of people. When I first noticed that feeling, and for some time after, I carried on as usual. I did my best to ignore the feeling. Yet, over time, what happened was that the feeling became more pronounced. The feeling became very uncomfortable.

There is intelligence in listening to the messages of the body. I noticed that I might get to the end of an email message and feel this empty feeling in my stomach. There was no nurturance. I hadn't got a jot of a sense that I was being offered anything genuine; heartfelt. The comments felt like such platitudes it left me to feel that what was keeping me in the relationship was a sense of duty.

Last June, I was scheduled to go to a Silent Retreat for a week, and if that had not needed to be cancelled due to lockdowns this would have been a wonderful experience for me. I can try to be as silent as possible in day to day life to create a sort-of Silent Retreat, but it will never match an environment where the expectation is that nobody talks.

For empaths especially, silence is a tonic. People tend to naturally want an empath in their lives. Empaths don't ask for much from people and they often don't get much, either. I don't mean material things. I mean nurturance.

It's true that empaths like to be of service; to give. They do get a lot out of making other people happy and seeing other people happy. In my earlier years I wouldn't have thought the way I am thinking now. I was just there for people; slipped off alone when it got too much, without thought about that behavior.

I don't know if it's a good or bad development. All I can say is that I began to see interactions where I felt that something was being taken without something being given in return as like a rock clinging to my leg. I began to feel I wanted to be freed.

The 'bimbo' Part

 I've been doing some free guided meditations on Insight Timer where Dick Schwartz takes the listener on some experiences connecting in with their Parts. In one meditation we were taken on a walk and encouraged to just go alone if possible, to leave our Parts at the beginning of the trail. If you are watching yourself rather than being on the trail aware of your surroundings, then a Part has come along, so he encouraged us to ask the Part to go back and wait at the entrance of the Trail.

It didn't take me more than a few minutes, even less, to realize that when I am out in nature, or even in the city but have walked long enough in a state of peace, I am alone with my Self. No Parts are with me. How do I know? There isn't any meaningful chatter in my head. I'm not devising To Do lists. I am not immersed in memory or the future. I am in the Now, aware of the trees, the twittering of birds. I am in my body, settled, secure; needing nothing. 

In the best of times, I am completely at peace. When I was in Peru on the trail, or in Telluride walking up to Bear Falls, I experienced this profoundly. It is said that when a meditator experiences pure Awareness, all they want to do is to experience it again. Yes, I have experienced Awareness in meditation, but moreso in Yoga or on trails, or walking through the coastal town I visit, stopping to stare at the ocean at certain vantage points. 

I have also experienced a complete sense of harmony, peace and tranquillity in the 'bimbo' state. Look at the c's of Selfhood - curiosity, creativity, confidence, connection,  compassion, courage, calmness, clarity. All of these qualities have been available to me in the bimbo state.

I wrote myself a diary note this morning. I wrote this:

"I think 'bimbo' is a hurt Part. She felt it was dangerous, could easily be hurt, had been hurt - so she/it became an exile - even though I now see she is a part of the Self - creative, connected, courageous, confident.

She felt rejected, more than once , and retreated - first with a soul destroying sense of loneliness and abandonment...and then the Protector took over - don't let this ever happen to you again.

And yet, 'bimbo' was a Part of feeling confident, a sense of Awareness, happiness, embodied, in the body. And, connected. When the lack of connection happened, she lost trust."

I have tended to think of attachment injuries as those that happen to young children. But, this Part of me suffered an attachment injury and became an exile... carried the beliefs and thoughts that stuck to me, as Dick Schwartz would say, "like a virus". The Protector part was able to convince 'bimbo' that she wasn't a good thing; that she needed to stay small, safe; invisible. 

It's tricky still, in my mind, because bimbo, that sexual part of me that wants to submit and experience that type of Awareness, or maybe I should say sexual Selfhood, is reliant on the Selfhood of a partner. It actually takes two people operating from the Self, the Higher Self, for this to work.

This is a tall order and yet it feels hopeful today. I was definitely onto something.

The benefits of a meditation practice

Often, perhaps once a month, my husband will say to me how different I am now, and he attributes that to my regular meditation practice. I agree. Meditation has provided me with tools that I had not accessed any other way.

It's a bit of a farce really, all that money spent on medical costs and mental health costs, probably often legitimate therapies, but when you consider meditation is virtually free, save a small cost for a group meditation sit or a few classes to get you going, it has been most underrated as a self-help therapy.

Most people who are asked why they have come to a meditation class will say that their minds are full of thoughts. They don't want that. Or, they want to be less anxious.

Meditation is quite simple really. First, you settle the body. Once you begin to pay attention to your breath, the body gets that cue and begins to understand what you want. A body scan works nicely, perhaps starting at the scalp and letting go one bit at a time, all the way down to your toes. Insight Timer gives you a range of guided meditations to try.

Feeling grounded is good, noting where you feet rest on the floor. If you are experiencing anxiety, breathe into the belly.

Once your body is feeling relaxed, noting any painful sections and breathing into those also, letting go, letting go, you can move onto calming your mind, which in fact you have already begun to do, due to the mind body connection.

Become aware of the sensory world. What does it feel like to touch one hand with the other? Is it smooth or rough? What sounds do you hear, faraway or close by, inside the room or out? Perhaps you hear nothing. Enjoy the sound of silence. Can you detect a scent? Explore that. Be curious about the sensory world. Radiate in it. Notice bird song. Notice a plane flying across you. Bring your focus to the world that is often closed off from your awareness and enjoy that.

By now, you will have noticed thoughts going by, perhaps as fast as city traffic, or just floating by like a cloud. Take one mind step back and be the quiet, silent observer. What is actually going on? Did you notice every thought has a beginning and an end? Your own mind is fascinating if you pay attention for a minute of two.

Perhaps, this isn't a good time for you. You are sitting calming and blow me down some really most unwanted emotions are taking up your mind space. All emotions, in all their nuances, are normal. What is this emotion about? It has arrived with a message. What is it trying to tell you? Don't judge or belittle the emotion or thought. Don't drive it away. Give it the attention it seeks and it will go exactly when it is ready to go.

Allow your mind to float from one thought or emotion or sense. If things are too troubling in there, move back to the breath, or your feet on the floor or your shoulders moving further away from your ears as you relax. The sit is yours. You do what you need to do. Rest in your whole body sitting on the chair or lying on the floor or on your cushion.

Perhaps today you want to feel love and that feeling isn't available to you in the 'real world'. Take yourself to a place you love, the mountains, the sea, whatever pleases you, and remember how that felt.

Or, see in your mind's eye, the little girl or boy you once were, who simply craved some parental attention and care. Pour into yourself the love you want. Remind yourself that you are a good person doing your best. Guilty about something in the past? Remind yourself that at that time you did the best you could based on what you knew then.

There is no much richness in a meditation sit. Each one is unique and that is proven if you keep a meditation journal, although you may well find that certain themes keep coming up. Well, that's rich material for you right there.

If you need a therapist, and so many of us do at some stage to iron out some struggle, meditation goes hand in hand with therapy. It will enrich therapy. It will get you to revelations faster.

Above all, meditation will help you to see that there is a co-existing awareness available to us. We all go through really troubling situations but sitting behind that challenging state of mind is a still mind. It's always there and always available to us. There is more to life than what you see.

'Forgive them...'

I'm not exactly a history buff. I've done my fair share of history since it was a major in a undergraduate degree, but even then I focused on social history rather than battles and dates.

History repeats itself and no more so than in families where the sins of the father might continue to be felt through the generations. With every action there is a reaction. With every hurt there is a scar that may not entirely heal.

Violence breeds violence, unless there is a conscious determination to end it here, right now. One rejects the patterns of the past. One says, 'it stops here'.

Only those willing to investigate the mind, our own mind and those of other people, can develop the awareness to stop unacceptable behavior. Without awareness, you've got absolutely nothing to work with.

It's no sin to make mistakes. The sin is not exploring that mistake; not committing to strive to do better.

It's my definition of insanity to be so wrapped up with self-importance, with justification of one's own actions, to not explore one's own behavior. How is it possible not to be vaguely interested in what makes one's own mind tick?

How is it not possible to see that unless we make a determination to end one's family's failings with this generation, we create scars for the next?

Of course the mind is very clever. It tricks us into justifying and projecting and denying until we are blue in the face. Anything but admit we are at fault, that mistakes were made.

Utter and complete foolishness. The wise ones stand up and say, 'I did wrong. I knew no better at the time. I will try to do better in the future.'

'Forgive them for they know not what they do.'

Good heavens, Jesus has been dead for a very long time. Time to heed the warning offered so long ago.

This day

 I have less connection with the past. I don't see this as a bad thing. I sometimes have momentary glimpses of my former self, glimpses that come to me, seemingly out of nowhere. I'll remember wearing a bathing suit at a younger age, when the children were young, and how I felt in a particular moment. I'll remember being even younger in a bathing suit at a public pool and the feeling of being so incredibly hungry after a day of non-stop swimming. I'll remember biting into food  and thinking nothing ever tasted as good as that fabricated meat roll that they served at the kiosk.

I remember, just now, feeling that I was pregnant for the first time and going to the doctor in the early afternoon of a work day and being told, yes, I was indeed pregnant. I remember the surge of joy. I was 28 years old.

In some ways the connection between my younger self and my current self is my children. I remember a flight attendant asking me if I had children and I said that my eldest was eight. I remembering wondering at that moment where eight years of my life had gone.

When he was born it was the most wondrous thing that ever happened to me. In fact, he wasn't a beautiful baby for a few weeks, since he was delivered with forceps due to the emergency that ensued in the hospital. But, I'd sing to him and coo to him as if he was the most magnificent baby that there had ever been in the history of the world. My mother recognized immediately that he looked squashed but I saw no imperfection at all and she didn't let on for many months that I had been in a dream space.

Fast forward to today and he is getting close to 33 years old. It still stumps me, where time goes. It is so interesting that he doesn't seem to have caught on that I have aged with him. That's nice really, that he sees me as eternally young.

In a way, and an important way, I am neither young nor old. It is a part of the meditative practice, I suspect, and a lot of spiritual reading, that I connect more and more to that part of me that has no characteristic that can be defined by age, or a changing body, or even a changing mind. I can't always connect to that part of me that is love itself, unconditional love, but more and more, I can.

Perhaps another way to put it is that I feel closer to a world, a life, a state, that one might call Acceptance, the suchness of things.

Certainly, I associate less and less with my thoughts. They come and go, of course, but I'm more inclined to notice them, rather than feel that they are mine. 'Oh, that's interesting,' is a thought I have quite regularly as the thought enters and plays out before it finishes and is replaced with another thought.

The hardest part of the day, and it has been this way for a long time, is first thing in the morning. I realized something this morning, that I often forget that this difficult part of the day can relate to allergies, sneezing and stiffness that relates to the weather. Over and over I have to remind myself that hay fever and the like induces an  agitated feeling that is best medicated.

Yet, it is more than that, I think. My husband is a night owl and in order to have him get as much sleep as possible I'll put off preparing for the day, having a shower and dressing. This works against me. I have to keep reminding myself that it is best to get up and get ready for the day; create momentum. We've talked about that and he encourages me to day what I need to do.

I'm very aware that there are less days ahead than those that have gone. I've very aware that those who were my age now when I was young are gone to God. Time takes us all. I don't think of this as a troublesome thought but I had a thought earlier, and noticed it, that I want to see my grandchildren. I want to meet them. I am hungry to meet them.

This is a thought, a thought about the future, a fear. We all have our fears, not that they do us much good, unless it is for purposes like getting out of the way of a speeding car and that sort of thing. I'm troubling myself about the future which will most likely have no relevance to my fearful thought.

I think there are times of life when we struggle for awareness at all, such as when I was young, and times like now when I feel a strong need to absorb all the change that is going on inside of me. Meditation practice for children is probably an excellent idea, but it wasn't part of my childhood. I suspected there was more, more than I could see at the time, but maybe all young children suspect that in some way.

Now, for me, it's not unlike a pulling away of people at the end of their lives who develop a deeper understanding of this life. I'm not pulling away from life as I've seen people do who are ready for life to end but rather I'm so awed by life that I need time to simply observe it. To this end, I feel a bit alone. I can't talk to anyone about this, quite simply, no-one. Where would I even start?

About hope

Hope is a positive word, right? If we have hope for an outcome, then there's still a chance things will go our way. Yet, I read some time ago a comment about hope that suggested it isn't as positive a concept as we would like to think. If you are living in hope, the author argued, you are not accepting things as they are, and in that way hope could be seen to be counterproductive. Acceptance of what is happening right here, right now, is far more productive, it was postulated. This doesn't mean no action is taken, but one isn't wallowing in thoughts of a possible future outcome, in a hopeful frame of mind, if you see the difference. Staying in the present, acceptance of the situation, is what is advocated.

There is considerable dissatisfaction with the medical fraternity who take 'truth giving' a bit too far, advising patients with cancer perhaps that the prognosis is very grim; fundamentally that they should get their affairs in order because there is no hope, or next to no hope. There are just too many people who are taking their health into their own hands even at that  late stage of the game and achieving outcomes considered impossible by the medical practitioners.

Hope for more life, a better life, is part of the positive approach to healing advocated by some people who consult with these marked people. They work with them on their nutrition - a plant based approach. They work with them on their state of mind, getting them well established in a meditative practice, and gentle exercise regimen, and as well, they encourage them to take each moment as it comes.

Perhaps, they don't encourage 'hope' so much as they encourage a positive state of mind and an acceptance of where they are right now, and why, and where they would like to go, all being well. And, if it should be that death comes, then let it a be a good death. It's a hopeful approach because previously they had reached a dead end, whereas now they have an approach that provides them with a healthy and enhanced way of life, for however long that is.

When I was younger and having my babies, I worked on the supposition that all would be well. I quite simply didn't allow for any other thought and I certainly was not prepared for any other outcome.  I'm grateful to be married to someone who simply overrides those in authority when he needs to. When my obstetrician induced me at the time of my first pregnancy and promptly left for a birthday party it was my husband who told the staff not long after that if he didn't get his ass back there and assist with a birth that was fast spiraling out of control they'd all be very sorry. The doctor ran into the room and quickly delivered the baby with forceps, for the cord was around our baby's neck and he was starving of oxygen. Would I have hit the panic button? You know I'd have left it too late.

Over time, my husband who is very detail oriented and inclined to see down the road to potential disastrous outcomes, would proselytize as to a bad outcome. Something inside me usually told me not to buy into it, especially when it came to our children. On the flip side, he sometimes was able to balance me, when I was overly invested in a specialist's prediction, for example.

It was more than me just being hopeful when it came to my children. I made deals with God; deal along the lines that if he agreed to keep them safe, then he could take something else from me. I see now how ridiculous that was, that I have the power to adjust the way of the Universe, but at the time I would have done deals with the devil if I could be assured of a safe outcome for them all.

I'm very grateful that my husband is so prepared to act in a crisis, and to act to avoid a crisis. It balances out with my tendency to simply insist that the universe acknowledge my loved ones' rightful place on this Earth to live a healthy and happy long life. Only a day or two ago he seemed agitated about our eldest son's health. He has a very nasty bug. Of course, one keeps an eye out for symptoms that suggest bacterial meningitis that can happens within hours, as instructed by doctors.

Whilst my husband frets that he is not yet back to full health, ready to push the emergency button, I assure him that bugs play out the way his is playing out; that he is resting and eating well and soon he will be fine. I'm aware of my flawed thinking that nothing can happen to my babies at the same time as I struggle to go to that 'what if this bug doesn't pass?' mode of thought. I'm not so much hopeful as insistent. The Universe knows better than to fuck with me when it comes to my children.

But, the Universe always wins. In the end we have some control over little things, over the best path to take perhaps, but we have no control over what the Universe wants. It is in this way that I sit here awaiting the results of my daughter's test which will confirm or deny the sophisticated blood tests that indicate that her pregnancy should be terminated. Exuberant joy has turned to sorrow.

'I know it is such a narrow chance, Mum, but I still have hope that the blood test is some awful mistake', she wrote to me. And, some motherly instinct, some sense of what I would want to hear from my mother if in the same circumstance, had me writing, 'There is nothing wrong with hope, darling.'

To those people who have never carried life within their limbs it is impossible to explain the joy, the bliss; the hopes one has for this little life inside. The little man may not be fully formed and at risk, but still he is yours. What else is there to do but hope? What else is there to do right now? The die is cast and we have no control. We await the verdict.

Of course, my rational mind, and hers, tells me that we are unlikely to get a call saying, 'You're the one in a million. The blood test showed that the foetus was very high risk, but the CVS test has confirmed that he's fine'. She's prepared for, and I expect, to get the call to say that the diagnosis is now confirmed. In which case, we must accept that it wasn't meant to be, this time. She will grieve and she will heal, and then they will try again, because the human heart prevails. It is inspirational what the human mind and heart can endure and heal from.

In life there is suffering. There is no two ways about it. It is our search for happiness that identifies us, however. I simply hate novels that end without some sense of hope for the protagonist because if we hang in with him or her for 300 pages of conflicts, issues and problems, we'd be mad to want less than at least some hope for his or her future when we turn the last page and must leave them behind. Where there is life, there is hope.

Awareness

For those people who sometimes find themselves stepping on invisible emotional landmines when in conversation with their spouse and wonder what to do to make communication better, I cannot recommend more highly The Intimacy Factor by Pia Mellody.

Many times over four decades I have found myself in the company of an irate and distressed husband in response to something I have unwittingly said. Over time I watched more and more carefully what I said, how I said it and when I said it, but these confusing and upsetting exchanges continued regardless.

In the same vein, I think I have been confusing to talk with too. If something that is said triggers a certain feeling, then the conversation becomes not about the words but about the feeling the words evoke, whether that was the intention or not at all the intention.

I began in more recent times to look for answers, both as to what was happening within me and what was happening within him. I determined that I had a sensitivity to any statements that conjured a feeling of abandonment and of feeling a failure. I determined that he had a sensitivity to any signs of disrespect, of having made a mistake or of having been accused of being lazy.

I'll give an example. Last night I was exhausted. It was just the two of us for dinner and after dinner I made what I thought was an innocent remark, a sort of silly remark.

'Wouldn't you think that by 2016 someone would have devised a way to just press a button and the kitchen would be all cleaned up!'

'That's why people eat take away food,' he responded.

'No, I mean, to clean up the kitchen after making a meal.'

I can't relay his response because it went on for several minutes, a sort of tirade of me making cheap swipes at him, and how if I wanted help I should ask for it and how it was all about my family and the way I'd been brought up wrong. He was angry and defensive and very worked up. He began doing the dishes as he spewed out hurtful comments.

I only said that I didn't understand what had caused this upset and please sit down and have a cup of tea and I'd do the dishes later, but this didn't help.

I left the room, drew a bath and took 'The Intimacy Factor' with me. Using the index I found this:

'Maintaining boundaries takes energy. It requires being alert and ready to put our boundary skills to  work. Even though we may have had a fair amount of boundary practice, because we are perfectly imperfect human beings, the words of our partners will cause us to make up that we have been demeaned and we may feel pain, shame, anger or fear.'

Pia offers a technique to settle oneself down in this situation:

'When we have generated these emotions as a result of becoming improperly vulnerable, we rely on a technique to reduce the emotion and to keep it from infecting the air, thereby making our partner a victim of our carried energies...

She called this technique "breathing into the submission".

"We take a deep, slow breath and imagine the emotion we are feeling as having a bodily presence right before our eyes. Then we breathe into it and let it go. We imagine it passing right through us like a ghost. This way, we keep the emotion from becoming toxic, floating out into the air, and infecting our partner."

Pia explains that when we breathe out the emotion we feel we are learning a lesson in humility. That lesson is that we are never totally free of our traumatic past.

'We are not perfect, but we can be aware.'

I tried this strategy and felt instant relief. I know that my husband bears scars from what happened a half century ago and this reading helped me to see that whilst he will always carry those scars I can be aware and sensitive to those scars.

In the same way, I now know that I am sensitive to what I generally refer to as abandonment thoughts. Whilst not rational in my life today since I have loyalty, love and care from those who matter to me, sometimes a comment will invoke those old  and very painful feelings. I can imagine the feeling passing right through me in the same way. I recognize the importance of not letting the feeling become toxic and infecting the other, since I have allowed it to happen before and that's simply not fair.

We hold most of what happens to us in our sub-conscious. We can live in a sort of denial or dream world, devoid of awareness. But, I believe that you cannot defeat what you cannot see. To become aware of what ails us, what holds us back from happiness or peace or serenity, that's where the power lies. That is when progress is made.

The dominant's power

Whilst my more recent interests would appear to revolve around 'awareness' in a spiritual sense, it is actually non-awareness and quiet, subtle movements of sensibility that truly arouses my interest, both as a writer and reader, but also as someone who has made a study of the D/s experience.

As I came to experience it, the Dominant created a sort of magic, or other-world sort of experience for me. I was sometimes off-balance; unaware. This was their creation, to ensure that I didn't know what was going on; that I was sure of not much at all; that I was surprised; discombobulated; emotionally charged in one way or another.

It was as if I was playing tennis with a professional tennis player and whilst I was jumping on the spot trying to predict which way the tennis ball would be served, so frisky that I imperceptibly jumped one way a split second before the ball left the net, so the ball went in the opposite direction.

One spends a lot of time trying to perfect that instinctive move until it dawns that one cannot perfect the move when trying too hard. Best to relax and do one's best. Sometimes one will jump right and sometimes one will jump wrong, but it is a 50:50 thing.

When completely in the groove, in the palm of the Dominant's hand, I learned to adore the unpredictability and to revel in experiences of such intense preparation on his part, that I had missed the possibility of the thing entirely. It was then that I felt that things were completely out of my control, and that the sense of scrumptious free fall was completely worth the realization that I had been outfoxed.

And there it is: I do love to be outfoxed.

And, finding pleasure in being dum dum, when I am in fact not dumb, and know myself not to be dumb; that's a sort of outfoxing right there. Subtly, imperceptibly; without awareness of what was truly happening, I was being taken to a state of mind where I had no power, no ability nor desire to disagree.

Yep. I was an 'objekt'. How could I deny what seemed/seems so categorically undeniable? If, when my mind was unpacked and thrown away I felt an empty headed joy, how could I disagree that this was what I was and had always wanted to be?

Are lies involved in this sort of dream-making surreal state? I do believe so, yes. It's hazy; not easily proven, but I do believe that lies are told to bimbo. There's this little silent gap; that teeny tiny moment occasionally when she says in her mind, 'hmmm, could that be right?'. And, she knows in that moment; she knows that there is a porky being told to her.

It's a funny thing because a fib should matter. Lies usually make for distance between people, making intimacy all the more difficult. Yet, there are situations when it hasn't mattered to me all that much. Bit by bit, a state of belief and disbelief has braided together.

It's not so much a 'co-dependent' stance that is being taken in her decision to stay silent about her feelings (although that could be part of it) but rather that there's a fear that in declaring her belief of the true state of things, something magical will disappear. We so want to hold the Other in high regard. That's it, I think. [edit: on re-reading I was gobsmacked that I had so fallen into the state of 'bimbo', 'her', by simply talking about this...]

If magic is to occur again, and bimbo certainly hopes that it will, she must believe in the overall worth of the experience. If, to experience the magic of Christmas one must believe in the spirit of Christmas, or to feel the peace of a religion - faith - one must believe in a deity of some kind, then one must believe that there is magic possible between two humble people. I believe that.

The first step

There are advantages to being more 'aware' of the emotions within and encircling a person. As awareness grows so too does the ability to analyze what is going on in a logical way. Less than a week ago I asked my husband if he would be prepared to take some steps to make our marriage more of a formal power exchange dynamic. I saw this as a very positive first step to a potentially wonderful future together.

Whilst we don't have the perfect life in his eyes, since he hasn't experienced the level of financial success he would have liked to achieve by now, we have a good life, live in a great country and have a wonderful, close family. The setting and stage of our lives seemed right for taking this step towards a closer and more fulfilling personal relationship that I hoped would set us up nicely to be happy in an ongoing and everpresent way.

I wrote to him about this matter and I did it via email. To date, there is no response. These plans were put into action at a time when the future seemed so promising. He was relaxed having been on vacation at our holiday house. Although our time together wasn't as personally fulfilling as it could have been from my perspective since we were often surrounded by children in a house where noise travels, I was filled with hope.

We've been back in the city  only a few short days and the rot has set in. He has had several explosions of his emotions, unable to contain his distress and anxiety related to several issues that either spun out of his control or that frustrated him. He's been rude, a reaction to his internal distress at external factors, and although he usually offers an apology, it's distressing to me.

There is not a doubt in my mind that he would benefit by seeing a psychologist who could use some cognitive behaviour techniques to help him deal with this perturbation. I'd love to see him get some relief from these distressing feelings that he experiences, but also so that we can have a more mutually respectful and anxious-free environment at home, from where he mostly works.

I know to take care of myself in various ways, such as to find a quiet place in the house, or to leave the house and settle my own internal upset. But, this issue has been a constant throughout the marriage, only altering in intensity as befits his own internal stresses and the external environment; in other words, how life goes for him from minute to minute. 

I can train myself to be the perfectly submissive wife, to handle my own anxiety privately and to show him due care and consideration, but this does nothing in providing him with strategies to cope with his own anxiety. As his wife I am in no position to help him here. He needs a professional for that task, but unfortunately has resisted all my pleas over several years. He's a proud man, a stubborn man and he is in denial.

Since writing the letter the idea of a more formal and established power exchange dynamic with him seems less do-able and, frankly, less attractive. I don't think that you can have a power exchange dynamic with a person who assumes the dominant role but who exhibits anxiety quite regularly.  Can you? The anxiety ridden person is so preoccupied with his own distress, what has he left to offer his submissive? Of course, some dominants find playing with their submissive an instant remedy for anxious feelings, but unfortunately my husband is not one of them. He tends to want to brood over his concerns.

I think the first step has to be to fix the anxiety; for him to learn strategies as to how to soothe himself. If the anxiety can come under control he is better placed to live his life - his business life - in a state of control and positivism which can then allow him to take on the power dynamic with me formally, in a way that is achievable. In a state of high anxiety I don't think we can really make progression in achieving the kind of relationship that I seek.

Change

Having finished a piece of work just now, I gave myself permission to wander over to tumblr and there I read this:

"As soon as you recognize your true nature as the unchanging Awareness and confirm your position as That itself, the unchanging One, it won’t matter anymore what the psychological, personal mind is saying.
Its play and presence will become distant, like looking at the moon in full daylight. You won’t be listening to it for very long, I tell you.
It will gradually lose its influence and appeal and fall away."

It was completely relevant to the work I had been doing this morning, writing about the process of keeping a journal and how one might write about trauma in a way that doesn't frighten the reader, by use of metaphor. I noted that when I write in a journal - this one or others that I keep for other purposes - I'm aware of writing as myself but also as if I am a reader. I write things down and then I engage with what has been written in a curious way.

I haven't always known what to do with my emotions, with events and happenings, or with challenging relationships. I think, looking back, that related to a sense of powerlessness. Somehow, perhaps by writing in the various journals, or possibly in the containment that I've experienced in the past several years, or the meditative practices, or all of these things, I've learned to be my own witness; to see my self as being the Awareness rather than the myriad of emotional states in which I became fully immersed, whether it felt traumatic or joyful. I established with certainty for myself that emotional states come and go, are never constant and that they are all part of life.

I noticed yesterday that I was starting to feel swamped in the mundane, for example. Since my son is doing his final year of school, often a tedious affair, my job is to keep his spirits up, to encourage him to keep moving forward and from to time, I have the task of getting him to get on with his work. He doesn't like that but he does appreciate, after the fact, that I am prepared to talk the talk about English essays. All in all, the whole year has me working very hard on a multitude of projects, without the opportunity to get away, and from time to time I can feel sorry for myself. Another couple of loads of washing, only the 20,000th of my motherhood; another meal to cook; only the 49,000th of my motherhood.

Of course, the antedote to this is to recognize that it is not forever. It ends in November, only a few months away now. After that, no more school aged children! Or, since I have just read a most profound piece of writing from a woman who lost her baby to cot death, a piece of writing that takes us into the heart of the grief, I can rationalize that I haven't a thing to complain about. And, I don't!

This is the thing. I'm aware of the emotional states now. I'm aware of why they happen, I'm aware I'm in a particular emotional state (not necessarily ready to get out, however), and I'm aware that the state will end. That's the key thing - to be aware that it will end, because people who are going through traumatic times need to know this, that it will end and it will get better.

I used to think that it was impossible to get inside someone's traumatic mind. This theory was debunked for me when I read this piece of writing, as yet unpublished. This is the power of metaphor, I am finding. You need reference points - 'how dare the phone ring', or the sense of being a ghost on a ghost train, or the reaction to wind, or the desire to hear your little boy's voice. One wonders, how did she make it through that? But, she did, she did make it through.

Many years ago I went through a situation that was deeply stressful and hurtful to me. My mother, being on the other side of the world sent me a cutting of the poem, 'Footprints in the Sand'. You'll find it here: http://www.marypages.com/footprints.htm. For countless years I kept it on my desk, under my blotter, and it gave me a great deal of comfort; that sometimes we wonder if there is anyone who cares but, in fact, in retrospect, we realize that someone was actually carrying us through the ordeal the whole time.

Sometimes, that person is oneself. We're aware of our ordeal and we keep a watchful eye on ourselves. We endure and we, ultimately, thrive. In the same way during meditation I often have one thumb grasp the other because it is a small, discreet reminder to myself that I am my own best friend. I'm keeping a watchful, attentive and loving eye on myself.

Perhaps, it can be chalked up to 'maturity' - that sense of peace I feel right now. That too will change. All things change, all the time. I'm okay with that.

Awareness

When life is humming along and I feel at one with the world, surrendering to the state of being my natural self, submission happens very naturally and happily, I find. The internal motor hums along nicely. Life is good and not just when success radiates the air but through all the ups and downs of life.

All sorts of things can be happening that aren't all that great, but holding onto that submissive stance within myself is a surefire way to remain peaceful and blissful. No matter what is happening externally, inside I'm being true to myself. If there is one 'fact' about me, it is this - that the best way to derail my efforts to live in harmony with myself and the world is to 'forget' about the submissive instinct that runs deeply through me; to ignore those impulses that advise me how to feel, to act, to think or not think; to be in a peaceful state of mind.

If I were to attempt to make a study of the moments of happiness in one's life, as did Marion Milner back in the 1930s, by keeping an intensive diary for seven years about her mind set (A Life of One's Own), and maybe that's what I am, in fact, doing right here, I might well find that the best moments happen when I am being true to myself, and that the worst possible moments happen when I have derailed myself by not allowing myself the sense of safety, security and contentedness that a submissive stance brings.

I won't go into it in depth today but what Marion discovered is much what I have been discovering for years - that the moments when one is not thinking bring the most happiness. When one puts aside the need to think, beautiful moments happen of their own accord - delight in Vivaldi this morning on the radio, for example. I was driving the boy to school when on came Vivaldi. We were running late and he commented, "Ah, the perfect string music when running late to school." We've noticed this - that so often when we are running late, on will come some inspiring, 'get on with life' string music and off we go to school quite pumped at the promise of a new day. It does help to have the classical music station on your dial, of course.

Or, I'll put on Diana Krall whilst chopping vegetables and find myself in an instantly empty state of mind, noticing the piano, and then a trumpet, or a delightful chord of the base guitar; just delighting in those beautiful sounds. Gardening is fabulous for emptying the mind but so too are millions of moments in life when one lets all thought go - a child laughing, a dog's antics, the sun coming through the window in a certain way. It's a trick of the mind to stop thinking to allow the blissful bounty of not thinking.

My mind was all a-chatter yesterday in meditation. Except for the fact that I have trained myself to endure this awful chatter that happens sometimes and to sit still regardless, I'd have got up, desperate to get away from myself. That's why I meditate in a group because you just can't walk away, or I can't do that. It took a full 50 minutes before my bloody restless, out of control mind shut up and gave me some peace. When I had finally surrendered, I felt much more contained; in control of my own turbulent emotional state.

Now, this does happen to submissive types. If they get a feeling that they are not contained, that their submissive state is missing, that they are running free and restless, in some way they are crying out to be contained. It's the reining in by the dominant that eases the distress. Discipline becomes a much needed antidote to the distress.

In my experience, a submissive doesn't ever want to hear that she has disappointed. No matter how restless of mind, when one hears that word, such as in, "You disappoint me" a little ping goes off. 'Oh, yeah! That's my job and I've sucked at that lately. What on earth have I been thinking??!!' Call the power exchange what you will, but it all boils down to this really - that one does serve the dominant and that the end game is that they are pleased. Without that, there's nothing.

For me, awareness of life and how I live it within myself, and my submissive state of mind, are intricately related. I do best in a constant state of awareness of the need to please and the need to live life with a strong sense of presence with life; with a mind rested, open and often quite empty; an empty vessel in some ways; awareness, just...awareness.

Helplessness

Sub-consciously many of us are working on some sort of negative feeling (e.g. sense of abandonment) from our past, perhaps attached to it, playing it out over and over until we reach some sort of consciousness of what is happening; perhaps finding some sort of resolution of that feeling.

If you consider my fantasy life, there isn't much doubt about the fact that it is associated with a feeling of helplessness. The fantasy this morning was a very typical scenario for me. Disobedience had ensued and when the matter was brought to my "owner's" attention, he made the necessary arrangements for my correction.

Although he had to rush off to a meeting (in my fantasies my "owner" is practically always a busy man who avails himself of a woman in the house to instigate some discipline for me on his behalf), the housekeeper was given instructions to see that I was paddled very soundly, such that sitting would be uncomfortable for the rest of the week. Then, I was to sit on my meditation cushion facing a wall, so as not to be distracted. I was to sit my beaten backside directly on the cushion and to think about my behavior, until my owner returned when we would discuss the matter.

To put it another way, I am at the mercy of other people in my fantasy life and subject to their rules and regulations. I am contained quite tightly and many situations taken for granted by most people are privileges to me. I am acutely aware that I am owned, that I am no more or less than property, and that whenever it should be deemed appropriate, required or enjoyed, I am corporeally disciplined.

It usually goes much further than a good thrashing. Certainly, intense anal training is part of my fantasy life and so too is intense use of my body; my holes. It is not at all uncommon for me to be restrained in ways where my holes are made available for prolonged use, sometimes by more (many more?) men than just my owner (as per his requirements of me). It's a challenging life I lead in my fantasies and the more challenge I face, the more I get off. Used and degraded intensely in a fantasy rolling through my head, my body may be covered in a coat of sweat, because the sort of smut that enters my mind, turns on my body in a very profound and deeply arousing way.

Some psychologists may say that a person like me is locked in a cycle of helplessness; that I am "attached" to that feeling, and that although I don't want to feel helpless in real life, in my mind I am playing the feeling out over and over again, until I can find a way to overcome that feeling of helplessness and move on with my life.

I am aware of this possible situation and I don't reject it. For several years now, via this online journal and other strategies, I have tried to bring my subconscious mind into my conscious awareness. I realize that I have, at times, felt very helpless and subject to the vagaries of life's winds blowing me about and rendering me helpless.

The awareness has been a great help to me. Conscious now of the helplessness cycle I'm also conscious of the ways that this feeling has held me back in life. This is tremendously helpful because it is opening doors in my mind to new possibilities. I am beginning to feel much more a creator of my own life and future rather than subject to the decisions of other people and 'destiny'. I feel more in control of my own life and the power of my own mind. I feel much more hopeful and much less helpless.

However, the fantasy life continues. Awareness has done absolutely nothing to alter the extreme arousal I experience when I fantasize or experience this helplessness in a scene played out in the bedroom. The more contained I am, the more helpless I feel and the more the other person is in control, the more intense my arousal.

I remain unconvinced that if I were to make wads of money or become an overnight creative success, and/or to have absolutely no reason to feel helpless in any way in my real life, that I would cease to have these fantasies. These fantasies have now been with me for over 50 years. My arousal from them continues to grow. My desire to feel helpless in such scenarios is very real. When they are acted out I feel a sense of relief; satisfaction; elevation of spirit and intense happiness.

It is interesting to me that although I feel less and less helpless in real life that my inner life still holds onto and covets feelings of helplessness. These men (and women by extension) are sometimes owners who have my best interests at heart (sort of) but they are often mean and nasty Headmaster types who see it as their role to train young women to obey men; to train them to understand their place and purpose; to service men. It is not all beer and skittles. It is not all well intentioned at all.

There is my real life and my conscious understanding that it is my right and my responsibility to be all that I can be in this life at the same time as my fantasy life makes all such thoughts void. My goodness, in my fantasy life I'm there to serve; to obey; to do exactly as told and only that. How profound it is (and how confusing at times) that I'm never more happy than in those minutes, hours and days after a good hiding; extensive use of my body; containment of my mind; reminder of my 'true purpose'. I never said it wasn't complicated!