Finding peace

Whilst I was at the retreat I had several conversations with Deirdre. She is a 72 year old woman who has had more to bear than most of us. She lost two daughters in separate accidents and her surviving daughter has a severe intellectual disability. Recently, a space became available in a good home for her and she has had the added emotional difficulty of placing her only surviving daughter there after a lifetime of looking after her twenty-four hours a day. Her husband divorced her many years ago but there relationship is reasonably amicable. He owns the home in which she lives and checks up on her, so that's a good thing.

A few years ago Deirdre developed cancer of the pelvic or stomach region. I was happy to let her talk to me and I didn't want to delve too far into asking questions. She wanted to heal the situation herself and at this time she is cancer free. She meditates, has a simple but content lifestyle in a beautiful and temperate area of Australia. She lost considerable weight when diagnosed and is now slim. She watches carefully what she eats - no dairy or meat or sugar - and she takes handfuls of supplements.

I noticed that Deirdre was able to tell me her story almost as if it had happened to someone else. She is a positive person, enjoys her life and her routines. The retreat may not have been the best idea for her. She wondered if she had done the right thing, the stress of meeting planes and buses, and of leaving her lovely weather and daily activities - a  morning walk to the marina and a coffee made by a woman who welcomes her and knows her well - for heavy rain and cloud in New Zealand.

It went through my head, 'but how do you live that life and not come out demented?' But, she'd done it. She was a pleasure to talk to and although she was clearly a bit anxious out of her milieu, she was coping fine.

One day, she had a one on one psychotherapy session and after that, she wasn't herself. She told me it had been a mistake.  'Oh?' I offered. 'She wanted to go back to the deaths of the girls. She said that I was holding onto trauma. But, why dig up the past like that? I feel so upset now,' she said.

It's a conversation that stayed with me. I wondered myself, was it indeed such a good idea to go back to the past and dig it all up? I get where the therapist was coming from. We can hold onto emotional pain in our bodies and we do need to process it all, but this was decades ago that these accidents happened. Deirdre was living her life on her own terms. She didn't want to return to the grief of the past and I couldn't blame her for feeling that way. She wasn't in denial about how hard it had been. She just didn't want to relive it in this way.

I listened to a podcast this morning that reminded me of this conversation. Catherine Ingram made the point, why do we need to rummage through the trash of our past over and over? Why not see those unpleasant thoughts as thoughts that will come and go, not requiring us to hold on to any attachment to them? Recognize them, notice them, but not necessarily allow them to disrupt our peace of mind; to derail us from having a relatively tranquil day?

That Deirdre has had a difficult life is most likely picked up by those who interact with her. She is an old looking 72 year old and she grumbles about little things like a much older person. But, given the circumstances of her life she is doing amazingly well.

I can't say that the retreat was a particularly worthwhile experience for her. She had sorted out her life, created a life where her peace of mind was as intact as it was ever going to be. She was a survivor on her own terms.

This leads me to tell you a little about a surgeon who attended the retreat and was deeply curious to learn. He had endured physical pain and depression and he saw the week as an opportunity to learn another way to approach his circumstances. Over the week he shared more and more with me and towards the end he asked me if he should teach his wife about meditation and the spiritual life. He shared that she was a naturally happy and optimistic person, enjoyed spending time in nature, with the children and animals. Nothing really could bring her down.

'Why bother?' I said. 'She has the natural gift of happiness. Let her be.' He nodded his head in agreement.

If you are born with a nature such that you don't particularly like your mind, wouldn't have chosen it, aren't happy about the way it over thinks and stresses, you're more likely to go looking for answers to the dilemma. You might find that BDSM provides you respite, or dancing, or swimming, or meditating, or gardening, or making movies.

Notice when your mind is at peace. Repeat often. There is no one right way.

Moments of happiness

As you develop a closer relationship with yourself - being aware of emotional states coming and going - you will begin to see that there are moments of happiness, possibly dispersed among periods of less desirable states - feelings of being overwhelmed, anxious, lonely; bored. When people ask you how you are politeness and a sense of appearing 'pulled together' may have you answering 'Fine' when in fact over the course of the commute to work, as an example, all sorts of troubling thoughts have drifted in and out of your mind. Why is your son so unwilling to do his homework and where are you going to find the money for a new car? We all have these thoughts.

Nearly three months ago now we took a vacation in Bali, my first time there. It was a special vacation since the fares there were a gift from my children. From the moment I set eyes on the place, and especially when I set eyes on the villa I had rented for us, I loved everything about Bali. It's hard not to enjoy yourself on such a vacation but even so I was aware at first of some not so perfect thoughts coming and going. My husband had been particularly obsessive and perfectionist - preoccupied over the past several months - and we had to get to know one another again in a more intimate way.

As one day turned into another, I noticed that nearly all thought, to the extent this is possible, had drifted away. I felt not the slightest bit of pain or tension in my body. I was floating through the days in a state of pure bliss. I took to wearing the $9 floaty long dresses I bought there - colorful patterns - with a pair of sandals, and a pair of panties underneath, that's it. Life was blessedly simple and I loved every minute of it.

A couple of moments stand out as being ones of total and complete happiness. My husband was busy doing something inside the villa when I decided to use the communal pool, about three steps from our front door. We had our own infinity pool inside the compound, but the communal pool, empty, spoke to me. Ever so quietly I breast stroked up and down the pool and as I did so I followed my fingers making the strokes, watching my hands closely as they returned to make straight lines in front of me. I was surrounded by greenery wherever I looked and the thought occurred to me that there was nothing more than this. This was bliss. I wondered if I had found heaven.

On another occasion we were on the motorbike my husband had rented. At first I was nervous. The traffic appears chaotic to the untrained eye. However, I quickly learned to settle. Vehicles drive fairly slowly by Western standards and everyone is so polite and accepting. At one point we were at an intersection and the thought does occur - how are we all going to work this out? I think my husband looked a small truck driver in the eye, like - Can I go? - and he nodded as if to say, 'Yeah, no worries, you go'. Off my husband went and on the back I put up my hand as if to say, 'Thanks'. He laughed. 'Crazy Aussies', he thought.

It was a happy moment, but not the one I particularly remember. The moment I particularly remember is when I was quite simply aware of being right behind my husband on the bike and holding onto him around the waist, the two of us off on an adventure, him leading and me holding on for the ride. I felt...love. I felt...complete. I felt I had arrived home.

The ten days quickly came to an end. The Bali we saw and experienced may well quickly come to an end too. Villas are sprouting up everywhere beside the rice paddies of Ubud to the point there may soon not be enough land for the people to grow the crops that have fed the people of Bali until now. I hope and pray this does not happen but greed may devour this beautiful place.

My life with my husband is all or nothing. Either he is worrying himself to an early death about something or other - obsessively and compulsively devoting his thoughts to one - or two or three - projects that consume his time and thoughts - or he is completely relaxed, such as he was in Bali. To this end I know there is always hope of other blissful states.

Yet, I have to get through - from one preoccupation and project - to the next time when he can relax; when he can decide it is time to 'let go'. This is, and has been for some time, my mission.

Perfectionism

I'm not at all sure that I am or ever was representative of women of this modern era. There is a certain blitheness about the way I go about life. In my younger days I was fairly 'live and let live' in my disposition towards others, so although I noted certain characteristics inconsistent with the way I'd do things, I wasn't particularly troubled by them. If it was wildly outside what I considered fair or reasonable I might question something perhaps, but I was in no way demanding. To use other terms, I was what is considered  as without boundaries.

Having said that, I remember telling my husband off one time in my mid twenties when I'd been waiting at the appointed spot for considerable time; a spot that wasn't comfortable to be waiting in. His sense of time was something that I had difficulty understanding. He'd say that he'd be a couple of hours when in reality he needed more like a couple of days. Or, he'd say he was coming to bed "soon" and rock up in the wee small hours of the night. He often underestimated the time it took to do something and even though he could give assurances freely that he could get something done for me, he'd struggle to tear himself away from the project at hand, or the thing that held his interest. When he did attend to the task it seemed to take an endless amount of time, for only a perfect job was satisfactory in his eyes.

The washing of the dishes was a strange affair. When we married he rushed out to buy a dishwasher, as if the lack of a dishwasher somehow implied that he had some unwanted involvement in the chore. The event stood out because making decisions was something that he often labored over for fear of making the wrong decision. When he occasionally did do the dishes it reminded me of a surgeon preparing for heart surgery. It seemed a job done with meticulous care and attention. My attempts felt sloppy in comparison, as was my packing of the dishwasher apparently for he often noted that something hadn't been done quite right.

It soon became clear that his relationship with workmen wasn't a happy one. Invariably he found fault in their attempts and he was much happier doing it himself, even if it might take a decade longer. He'd assure me we'd saved a fortune, though, as you might imagine, I  didn't see it that way. Recently an oven sat in the middle of the kitchen for 9 months as he got his head around installing it and framing it in the absolutely right way.

You'd be correct if you assumed that this has caused me a great deal of frustration over the decades. Trying to explain my frustration to him is like talking to someone from another planet. It simply doesn't compute. What matters is his sense of the fitness of things and this is determined through his own particular lens of perfectionism and obsessiveness.

Things reached a head several years ago when I found myself having the occasional conniption. I think the frustration had built to such a level that I demanded that he understand what he was doing to me. He'd apologize that he'd upset me, but then he'd talk me around to seeing things from his point of view. There was no winning this war. There was no change of perspective to be had; no recognition that he was sending his wife mad.

Naturally, I reached a point where I researched this dilemma and bit by bit I filled in the dots and created an accurate picture of what was going on. Then, I looked for solutions. Modern psychology was brutally honest with me. The person to change was me because I was the person who was able to change.

I needed boundaries. I need to express my feelings in particular ways and/or state what I needed at the particular time and in a direct but neutral way. I needed to be proactive. I needed to buy out of circular arguments. I needed to do things for myself where possible. I needed to keep in close communication and enjoy time together with him, but I also needed to understand that I had to be a free agent; to find joy in ways other than in the ways that I had intended and expected when I agreed to his marital proposal; to any marital proposal.

To my eyes, his priorities would often seem misplaced, but these were my eyes, and the common theme that remains to this day is that he was doing things in a completely necessary way and at a depth of detail that was absolutely essential for our benefit. If the need for a perfect outcome meant that the outcome was delayed, perhaps permanently, then this was the way it was.

It became a process of wrapping my head around the fact that there would be little meeting of the ways, but rather that I learn to 'let go' of certain expectations of life, of a certain living standard, of certain marital expectations, and instead focus on other ways to be  a happy, stable and fulfilled human being.

This is the face of perfectionism and of being married to a person with an obsessive-compulsive, anal retentive, perfectionist personality. If someone told me ahead of time the rocky road ahead, well, I'd have been a fool to do anything else than to find another highway. But, that's rarely the way it works out. We discover our partner's traits as we progress down the road and after the time it is easy to do a U turn.

The  five stages of grieving as outlined by Kubler-Ross are accurate; not necessarily experienced in the same order as the next person, but still, we do go through all the stages, and complete the cycle at the stage of acceptance. I have learned to accept that no change will take place. I've adapted my life, my mindset and my pursuit of happiness around it. I am at peace. I am loved, and happy. I live a good life even when, to the fly on the wall, it can look pretty darn odd. It is what it is. Come hell or high water, a perfectionist, full of love as he may be for his wife, and who attempts to make up for his oddities in other ways, is unable to change.

2015: Reflections

One of my Facebook friends asked the question, 'How would you sum up your 2015 in one word?' and this got me thinking. I asked my oldest son for his word and he immediately answered 'confronting'. When I asked why it was confronting he reminded me that one of his dearest school chums had died of an overdose in 2015. His grandfather, with whom he had developed a strong bond over the past years had become sick towards the end of the year and he'd visited him in the hospital almost every day until his death; spoken at his funeral; watched him return to the earth. His two best mates had moved overseas during the year and he'd broken up with his girlfriend with whom he was living late in the year as well.

From a career perspective or a business perspective, 2015 wasn't remotely 'confronting'; rather fast moving and successful. At work, he's the rising star. Like me, he immediately thought to base his one word to describe 2015 on his own personal feelings. It was internally, within himself,  where he'd been 'confronted' by life as it played out in the past year.

I've tried a few times to look back on my own 2015 and feel a bit lost for a single word to describe the past year in my life. I read over a few posts that I wrote here but they only prove that you can't judge what is happening to a person by the posts they publish on the Internet, any more than you can judge a young man by the image he projects in a well cut suit who is routinely getting on and off internationally bound airplanes  .

I can point to highlights of the year. We saw one of our sons graduate with his university degree. He has been challenged in his life by a condition that made school harder for him than it is for most young men but he excelled in the final year of his degree, proving yet again that you should never write a child off and that you should almost always allow a child to do that which turns them on.

Our daughter and her partner bought a house together and I am very proud to say that they did a wonderful job in the past year transforming it into a lovely home. I was a little shocked when I first saw it. It was a gloomy sort of place at first sight and thus they proved, yet again, that nearly anything can be made beautiful with tender, loving care and a lot of paint.

I managed to get my husband away to Japan and we thrived over there alone together. It showed me, if I needed any further convincing, that I do well in the 'help-mate' role being led; that play sessions where I submit to authority are transformational for me; that we make a good team, and that everybody needs some fun and adventure in their lives.

I graduated with my Master of Arts in front of all my family, except the son travelling, and I was very happy to have obtained this goal. I've earned by 'colours' and now it's up to me to do something with the qualification in this new year.

In the final days of the year I was beginning to drift off to sleep one hot night and as I looked about the room my eye settled on the chair in the corner of the room. I can tell you a fact about the chair; that we had seen it in a furniture shop together some years ago now and I'd expressed the fact that I thought it was a lovely chair. I can tell you that one day, several weeks later, I'd walked into the bedroom and there was the chair, a surprise he'd devised. But, it doesn't tell you anything about my feelings as my eye settled on the chair late that night at the end of 2015. Rather, I looked at the chair and thought out of nowhere, 'I'm happy in my life. Here. With him. I'm glad I stayed. What a relief I didn't succumb; that I stayed true.'

In truth, the word for my 2015 is 'challenging'. Towards the middle of the year I began to take 'selfies' of myself. I felt so flummoxed and at sea that I barely recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. The photographs showed me in no uncertain terms that I was deeply troubled. I'd look at them and wonder where I had gone; that person that had so often been referred to as 'ethereal' in the past. Yet, the photographs taken in Japan - and that's September/October - point to a transformation of my earlier troubled soul. I was happy, so happy, and it was evident; irrefutable.

Those readers who have been willing to continue reading here; to withstand my ups and downs through the years, may remember me writing about listening to a monk one Friday night. I'd taken my husband to hear him and together we listened as he told us that the purpose of life is to be happy; that everything flows from that.

I think the trick of life is to understand that nothing, good or bad, lasts forever. Life may be short but it's a long road and we will experience many ebbs and flows along the way. Holding onto what is authentic in our lives is key; listening to that voice, that deep down wisdom that we hold within each and every one of us about what is right and what is wrong.

Follow that voice. It won't lead you astray. Happy New Year.

Legacy

I've watched The Godfather many times. Not only did I have a thing for Al Pacino but I was drawn to the story in a way that went well beyond the superficial story of the Corleone family and their Mafia control.

Many years after seeing it for the first time I listened to Ted Stanton talk about how he wrote Toy Story and I finally realized why The Godfather pulled me in. Ted explained that every movie has a message (It might be 'love is complicated' or it might be 'love is not complicated', for example) and every protoganist wants something. The film is built around that message and those wants. So, Michael, long after his father died, wanted to please him. Break down the whole movie and that's what you've got; a son's desire for his father to be proud and content.

I don't personally particularly relate to that message since it isn't an issue that has confronted me. I was, if not the favoured child, the good child. I didn't feel that I needed to make anyone proud. It's not really a concept that entered my mind much. I was too busy trying to accept myself, if that makes sense; that parcel of characteristics and eccentricities that make up who I am, to be too worried about what other people thought, even my parents. I was sometimes plagued by seeing my father unhappy and probably that's what made me 'good' and silent; a desire not to cause him any more unhappiness or anxiety than he already felt.

I can see that many people do have Michael Corleone's issue. My husband was not first born. He didn't get the attention that is so naturally thrust on the first born child. Instead, I would say that as a middle child he was almost neglected; considered unimportant; not privy to high expectations. He felt this and railed against it. He, of all the children, wanted to be a big success; to travel; to get away from poverty and distress. Against the odds, he achieved well in the academic arena and rose high in his profession of choice. That he did so well for a period of time probably made it even harder on him when the tide turned against him, and being born with tenacity, I feel sure that as long as he is breathing, he'll never give up trying to achieve success as it is defined in his mind.

I think there are two reasons why he'll never give up. Certainly, he takes his responsibilities to his family seriously. He wants the best for me and the children. But, I think the real reason he won't ever give up is that he is plagued with a similar obsession to Michael Corleone.

It's odd this complete commitment to a cause that is unwinnable. I understand it and I don't understand it at the same time. If a man was a delight to be with; if he was generous with his time and made that shared time pleasant, if he was affectionate or had a positive effect on his children's state of mind; I'd understand. However, my father-in-law cannot be described in this way at all. He's extraordinarily moody, cantankerous; difficult; not prone to praise people. He has zero awareness of the upset he causes amongst the family, it is thought, although I have strongly suspected for decades that he revels in this upset.

He has good qualities, of course. He is a family man and can be pleasant on occasion. He means well. But, his control issues and need to stay Top Dog supersede the goodness. He's manipulative, controlling, demanding and overbearing. You won't find anyone who will call it another way.

From the outset my husband warned me not to get involved in the politics of his family. I am pleasant to all of them; shoot the breeze with all of them and leave it to him to make the decisions related to them, even when I have found the situation quite ludicrous. I realized even in the early days that there was an unspoken policy that the children were to succeed and not succeed at the same time. To succeed meant that they could also be subject to their father's wrath. How could they live in comfort, perhaps buy a new car or home, when he had wants of his own? I overheard a hundred of these comments and this kept my husband down on the farm through university holidays, giving whatever spare money he had and then giving big chunks of money when he had big chunks of money to give.

That's all fine if there was some sort of recognition that my husband (and I) had paid his dues. My husband has given back every cent he has ever cost many, many times over, gave of his time almost every night of our lives for some years listening to his father's complaints about life on the phone. (Had he planted a camera in our house, calling at the exact moment I put the dinner on the table??) But, nothing turned him into a happy man. My husband is still trying, bless him, but nothing can make my father-in-law happy. He chooses to be unhappy.

I was talking to my oldest son last night and at a certain point I found myself sharing my concerns about his father. It's something I hate to do, but last night, it just happened. I didn't know, I said, how to stop his father from working himself into an early grave. My son does everything he can to allay my fears but this is what he said to me last night:

"Yeah. I just can't seem to pull him out of his distress lately. He always seems so exhausted, so defeated, so negative. In the past I've been able to cajole him and get him talking about something else, but lately it feels that I just can't make him happy."

Ka-Ching!

"Darling, who do you sound like?"

Silence

"Ohhhh, Dad talking about Grandpa."

"That's right. He'd hate to know that; that he was imposing on you in this way; that you feel responsible for his happiness in this way. It's not your responsibility to make him happy."

Now is not the right time for me to sit my husband down and explain what he is doing to his beloved son; the son he absolutely adores; the son of which he is so rightfully immensely proud.

To any father reading this, please drop the denial and listen to my words. Don't let this be your legacy. Take responsibility for your own happiness and leave your children in peace. Wear a smile. Teach them that life is good by enjoying your life. That's the best gift you can give your children. Life is to be lived, not endured.

Personalities within BDSM players

I recently read an article based on research done that compared BDSM players to standard groups based on the criteria of personality types. The researcher used the following personality factors - neuroticism, extraversion, openness to experience, conscientiousness and agreeableness. (I'm sorry I can't get back to the relevant article but if I find it I'll link it here.)

 As his research progressed he felt he may have stumbled upon a sixth personality factor relevant to the research - honesty/humility. People who identify as 'submissive' score particularly high on their 'desire to obey and be subjugated', seek self-basement and humiliation, and the researcher wondered if humiliation and humility might be related. In the same way people who identified as 'dominant' might be the opposite - possess a desire to feel superior to others, he speculated.

To return to the research findings, and bearing in mind that the researcher felt that these findings were by no means hard and fast, with there being some possible questions still in relation to the control group, some interesting theories emerged.

If one considers one of the factors of personality the researcher considered, agreeableness, dominants and submissives tend to be on the opposite sides of the scale. The definition of agreeableness used was pleasantness and consideration for the comforts of other people. Submissive people tended to be about the same as the control people on this criteria, but dominants were low. They tend to be "tough rather than tender minded' with a willingness to make hard decisions. They are "bossy" people and demanding in the way they relate to others. (What a shock!)

The researcher speculated, and this is interesting because I have read many people make a statement that is opposite to this, that the majority of people drawn to roles reflect rather than compensate for their normal personalities.  People into BDSM, he felt, generally prefer the role that fits their own level of agreeableness. (I agree with this.)

In general life people tend to find disagreeableness as annoying and rude. Dominants, he determined, were "relatively shameless, self-confident, not easily embarrassed" and not guilty or shy about inflicting punishments. But, in the roles of BDSM "doms have found a way to express their disagreeableness in a way that is actually welcomed and appreciated by submissive partners".

This makes sense to me. I know I am often spoken to in a way that most women wouldn't care for. But, I process it differently. The bossiness is appealing to me, especially if 'bimbo' is present. It gives me tingles down my spine. It makes me feel alive. It's an "oh thank god, he's feeling particularly dominant today" feeling that comes as such a relief, usually. I'm much less excited when I am being hauled over the coals I should mention, or when the dominant is choosing to 'railroad' me with a deep, angry, aggressive tone of voice.

If one considers another factor of personality - extraversion - what he had to say about submissives particularly interested me. It appears we might be more extraverted than the control group; that is more sociable and assertive. (More assertive? Really? How interesting) It also appears that we may have a particularly friendly outgoing nature. We are excitement seeking. He doesn't mean that we necessarily like riding roller coasters (I pathologically hate to do that) but rather that the attention and the unpredictability in role-playing satisfies our need for excitement. I think this is absolutely right. I love the tango of BDSM. I light up when I am around a man being a little dominant with me in a playful way in almost any situation.

What alarmed me was what the researcher had to say about neuroticism; that is anxious attachment, a need for approval and sensitivity to rejection, all submissive traits. Dominants scored significantly low -the statistically largest different between groups - on neuroticism, rejection sensitivity and the need for approval. The alarm is based on the fact that rejection sensitivity and a need for approval are negatively correlated with subjective well-being; in other words happiness. Dominants scored high in happiness, he determined, concluding that most of the psychological benefits associated with BDSM belong to Dominants. (High extraversion + low neuroticism = greater overall happiness)

Of course these are all generalizations and don't relate to any two particular people and their relationship. However, the findings are worthy of consideration, especially as I compare them to literature given to me by my psychologist a few years ago. Those readers who have been around a while may remember that my psychologist identified in me a need to please people such that she felt that I was subjugating myself into unhappiness. I was allowing people to control me, she said. The article she gave me to read and make notes on so that we could discuss it stated, "Subjugation robs you of a clear sense of what you want and need - of who you are".

In the article there were two main reasons given why people subjugate themselves and the one that relates to me (since I don't subjugate myself out of guilt, though maybe to relieve the pain of others at times) is that people subjugate because they anticipate rejection, retaliation, or abandonment. This reminds me of a conversation I had with a dominant this morning and he made the point that a submissive can never, in a sense, relax. I responded that she can relax so long as she is perfect (haha) and this may, in fact, be relevant to the point here. The dynamic is set up specifically and intentionally to challenge the submissive and hence a bit of fear/concern/neuroticism about how she is doing and whether she has pleased is part and parcel of the game. We need to be aware of this, that the game is rigged against us, and not take it too personally, maybe.

To return to the subjugation article I was given to read, "It is part of the subjugation trap for you to believe it is somehow wrong for you to express your needs." That's true. I've definitely made that mistake (although allowing my submissiveness out with a strict dominant is one of my most vital needs).

The good news is that in the past few days there has been revelatory thought about that. I've lived for years, via the BDSM roles, with the feeling that I was on the cusp of being abandoned. Maybe, that was accurate. I really have no way of knowing this. But, I realized something lately that has freed me in my mind and made me much less neurotic and therefore more able to maintain a sense of happiness. Here it is. I am not likely to be abandoned at all. For one thing, I have been married for 35 years later this year. That's pretty stable! And, my mentor and I have endured one another (nah, I really mean forged a lasting and valuable friendship of sorts) that has spanned well over 5 years in length. It's time to stop feeling that I might be abandoned at any minute, don't you agree? And, if I am, well, I'll deal with that then and not today.

I honestly do and always will hate not pleasing. I loathe to be in the bad books and to be punished, especially through dismissal for a time. I think it makes me feel like the little girl that I never was, since I never was really punished. Punishment also makes me dwell on my weaknesses which is never easy either. I know I can be a 'hot head' and 'full of myself' and punishment makes me admit it, even if just to myself.

I think the meditation has helped, reading lots of spiritual words. I worry less about what will come later and live much more in the moment. I don't try to push for what I want so much, more confident in the fact that good things will come my way in good time.

I trust, not just in those dominant powers that influence my life, but in life in general. Sure, there is a bad and violent force in the world but I stand with the Headmaster of my son's previous school when he says 'There is more good than there is bad.'

I think there are tremendous psychological benefits to being in the submissive role but one must develop a strong inner self, an understanding that we must express what we need and want, and that, when all is said and done, we do what we do, dominant and submissive, because we crave intimacy. Even when my masochistic needs are incredibly high and I crave the nastiness of the dominant to dig his fangs deep into my skin, that's all about intimacy too. We can be vulnerable and strong at the same moment.

I think the research this man has done points out some important tendencies in BDSM players which must be considered and evaluated. It's vital that submissive people recognize that they can be vulnerable people and then work on those tendencies towards neuroticism. It's also important, I would say, that dominant people work on their tendency to be "relatively shameless". That can't be good.

Drilling down

First of all, I want to record that I am happy. There are reasons for this sense of happiness, although I see it more of a 'welling' of happiness, something with its own internal logic and not necessarily related to external factors. But, since I'm trying to be 'aware' of this new felt sense of happiness and how that came to pass, let's drill down.

First thing that comes to mind: I've little pressure in my life at this time, especially today. I'm typing away here at my desk, but I've precious little that really needs to be done. I'll go and explore the world a little once I've tapped away on these keys and have myself a little adventure. Love adventures!

Second thought: In this moment, my whole family seems settled and happy. Gosh, that's a fabulous feeling. My eldest son had his 30th birthday in the past week - a great party, just the way he wanted it - and I got to meet/meet up with all his closest friends.  It's fabulous to see how much he is loved and embraced, especially by his girlfriend's family. It was very good karma at that party and at dinner at home one night this week I could see that he had 'lifted'. He's happy.

My daughter has started her second year of teaching, a job she adores. She and her boyfriend have moved into their first house together. They adore one another; very, very connected. My third child has come right of his shell, sewing some wild oats now, fully immersed in a job he loves and so much more social and responsible; all good things. And, my youngest child, my baby, is doing just fine travelling around other countries with his mate. He's registered at his institution of choice and it's all good for him too - he's maturely fabulously.

Third thought: It's no co-incidence that once the family were fully ensconced in their lives that this automatically made way for my husband and me. We've been...happy...together lately, planning things and doing things and very much on the same page. Knowing I had to be out of the house by 10 am yesterday he woke me with some pampering and then a lovely breakfast on a tray in bed. It felt so...loving and tender. The kiss 'good morning' was sweet. We've watched the tennis most nights whilst partaking in a late dinner and although he's popped into his office to check his screens, it's been fine. It's been very...settled...around here this week in all these ways. My mother seemed much better yesterday and happy I agreed to go to a concert with her next week. This gives her something to look forward to and it makes me happy to make her happy. All these things are good. I love seeing the people in my life happy. That makes me happy.

Fourth thought: Schedules and routines begin next week. February brings with it routine, which I appreciate, but until January is done and dusted I'm loving the lack of routine. I'm sorting through the decade of paper on my desk, going through the storage space downstairs, sorting out and altering spaces. It's 'me and my house' time and I love that. I've a relationship with this house too, just as I do people.

Fifth thought: The 'power exchange' side of things hasn't been nearly so intact and yet it hasn't felt...bad. I've felt rebellious lately which I attribute to several factors, not least of which is the reading I've been doing; important articles that have opened my eyes to issues that may have led me down the path of considerable unhappiness in the past. I've been working privately and internally with confronting my fears, standing up for myself and being assertive, which, on the surface, looks like it doesn't meld well with accepting that I don't have any real control. Inside myself, I know there is progress going on, but I'm not ready to express that in words just yet.

I am pondering, however, if the Crystal Bowls Meditation that I did recently has indeed had an effect on me. I noticed I choked a bit during that meditation and thought that strange since that had never happened before, and was later told that the meditation was attuned to the throat chakra. Since the meditation it has felt that I have had to clear my throat several times and that's most unusual for me as well. The throat chakra is the chakra related to speaking one's truth. Speaking out has to be a bit of a shock for any dominant man used to talking to an agreeable, compliant bimbo who asks few questions about the reasons for and desired outcomes of her tasks, but the thoughts that have been held back are rising up and finding expression. Personally, I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. I think it opens the door for a closer, stronger connection, but the jury is still out and I'm certainly not the judge in session.

I suppose you could say that bimbo took things waaaaay too far when she had a go at usurping control. I can't imagine what she was thinking (that this behaviour would end well? that she'd actually get away with it? that she wanted to get away with it??) except to say that sometimes bimbo doesn't look that far down the track...

I know this much. When push comes to shove...when all factors are considered...when we reach the bottom line...whether she's right or wrong...whether the grievance is handled in a way that is satisfying to her, or not...she's grateful that the dominance remains intact and that she is shown her place. This outcome is deeply satisfying to such an extent that she can bunker down into consequences. She doesn't have to like the consequences to respect them.

Here's the honest truth: Today (and admittedly probably not tomorrow...and the day after...and so forth) she's loving the freedom; revelling in the fact that she's a bimbo on the loose with a whole afternoon in front of her to frolic freely. Yes, she's taking the credit card with her but promises to be judicious with it. Wonder where bimbo can get a slice of gluten free orange cake...(PS Relax, that was a joke, she didn't go near cake. As if...!)

There's happiness in the little things

Happiness doesn't have to be complicated. It can, in fact, happen at any moment of the day. It's worth remembering that. Here are a few of my happy moments:

1. Getting everyone off to their day - to work and to school. Coming back to the house and letting the emptiness of the house sink into my being. This house and I have a certain relationship and I like it best in these moments of solitude. I make myself breakfast, enjoy eating my porridge, made just the way I like it, with texture.

2. Listening to an interview on the radio, especially of an author or someone in the literary world.

3. Catching a STUDIO interview on the television.

4. Going to the movies, most particularly, on my own. It seems more decadent that way.

5. A sale of a good designer of women's clothes or boots/shoes. I love good quality items but also love to get them at bargain prices. It's something of a talent of mine.

6. When the people around me are happy, I'm happy. Happiness for me can be as simple as that.

7. Having the time to have a coffee at the market, to read the paper and enjoy that mid-morning on the other side of town. It's less possible right now and I miss it.

8. Sound healing. Only happens once a month but it is the best hour and half of the month. Sheer bliss.

9. When I take the dog for a walk and she actually stays with me, runs with me, doesn't stop a hundred times for silly reasons.

10. Going down to see my Mum for lunch and finding her in good form. She's someone who can find happiness all over the place.

11. When I'm immersed in ideas and the writing flows. When I'm totally in my head.

12. When someone wins money on the radio or on a game show on the tv. I usually end up crying over their happiness. "My husband hurt his back and he's been out of work and it's been really hard..," the last one said, just after she won $10,000.

13. When I manage to find a home for something we don't need any more.

14. When the scales tell me that I've lost a little weight.

15. When I open a bottle of wine and am pleased with it.

16. Making a meal that pleases.

17. Visiting somewhere I haven't been before, or not for some time. It's like a little adventure for me to go to a suburb I haven't been for years and discover it all over again. Or, to find a new laneway in the city, or to pop into the  city Library for a free talk at lunchtime.

18. When everything is in its place.

19. When workmen come to fix/renovate something.

20. When I am objectified; totally.

Just had a thought. I don't need to rush around this morning. I'm going to take my time at the market, pop my reading glasses into my handbag and luxuriate over coffee and the newspaper at the market. The meditation group will go on without my presence today. Hello happiness.

Happiness

In 'power exchange' there's someone in charge, in control. In so many ways the arrangement is about control. It suggests, perhaps, that one person needs to come up with the answers for the other. Maybe not everyone interprets it this way, but certainly it is one interpretation. One person serves the other's will and ideally, that makes both people content.

With those thoughts in mind, it was particularly interesting to me to listen to a Buddhist monk recently and his philosophies of life. He grew up in Tibet but has made Australia his home. His English isn't fantastic but, in a way, his simple language aids the message. He'll say something and then often say "Clear" in an emphatic way. He means, there is no refuting this. There is no counter argument. Certainly, no-one tried to argue with him even when he made statements that caused some people to gasp.

Geshe isn't into praying or relying on some person outside of ourselves. You can go ahead and pray to 'God' or to Buddha or to a statue, but where is that going to get you, he asks. "You created problem, you solve problem," he told us. And, he's certainly not into convincing anyone of anything. You can listen along to him, but if you don't agree, that's fine with him. "You can do as I say or not. I don't much care," he said at the end.

The message was, fundamentally, that life is a construction of our minds. If we, for example, go off to the family Christmas dinner and find that a brother-in-law has a new sports car and that makes us feel bad, that's our fault. We need to work on that negative emotion of jealousy and recognize it is not serving us well. "Be happy for him," Geshe said. "Don't feel bad. Enjoy the party."

Geshe prescribes meditation, to increase the positive emotions in our lives and to decrease the negative emotions. A realist, he understands that in Australia people need houses and cars, and to keep warm in winter and cool in summer. "No need give up," he said. But, the material things of the world are not as important as "happiness". This is the purpose of life, he said, to be happy.

The woman beside me, my meditation teacher, noted that Geshe has a child-like innocence and I agree. He has an open and engaging face, a face full of wonder and peace. He smiles and laughs readily. He's happy.  He is the personification of wisdom, of a life lived in difficult circumstances, but who has thrived in that life.

Geshe needed to leave Tibet for his own safety and travelled across the mountains to India with no food, no wallet. A woman sponsored his spiritual education - $10 a month - and later she paid for him to come to Australia. He slept on the streets of Byron Bay, not telling his fellow homeless compadres that he was a monk until much later when they bought him a yellow surfboard. His face lit up when he told that story. He's goodness. He's peace and he's happiness, this man. It's wonderful to just be in the same room as someone so...settled.

A person asked him how we can teach children to be peaceful and happy. "Spend time with them," he said. "Hug them, love them. Put them first." Geshe believes in education and he raises funds here to send back to Tibetan children to educate them. He's a complete realist. He explained that when the Chinese rolled in and took over Tibet that was easy for them because Tibetans were not educated. Now, he sends Tibetan children off to university and is proud to say that girls are in the majority.

Everything that you believe must be rational, he said. He mentioned it several times. No voodoo or hocus pocus for Geshe, just clear, rational thought about reality and how to live this life. "In 50 years, everyone in the room dead," he said. My husband said he made a wonderful case for self sufficiency. "Perhaps the Liberal Party could engage him," I joked, referring to our government's new budget, which encourages self sufficiency over handouts.

Without going into it all today, what Geshe said opens up questions for me about power exchange arrangements. If it makes you happy, wonderful. If there is too much time spent in confusion and upset, maybe you could do better for yourself. Clear.

When I'm happy

I have been noticing something about myself,  which is a good thing in itself. There is no value in going about living one's life oblivious to things. Noticing things is a good thing. I've noticed that when I feel unhappy or that something isn't right, I dwell on it and when I am feeling happy I don't dwell on that happiness, almost as if to dwell on it is to jinx it in some way, or as if I am 'entitled' to feel this way and not any other way, or as if it is my 'default' position and doesn't need to be noticed. This isn't right.

I am happy. I am happy for various reasons but most of all I am happy to be giving and receiving love in my life. I am happy to feel content with my life (regardless of the fact that things aren't 'perfect'). I'm happy to have time to myself after such a hectic festive holiday period. Time to myself is vital to my happiness. There is no way I can't 'notice' this. Time writing here is part of that private time that I covet.

I know when I am happy and in tune with my inner being. When I feel like this I settle into my husband's body in bed. Sure, "sooner or later you sleep in your own space" but I spend part of the nights locked in my husband's arms. That the true test of the pudding for me, the desire to connect; to feel 'at one'; to know where and to whom I belong.

I am happy when we are happy. That's worth noticing.

Brain lost

Desire to immerse myself in the mindset of the slutty, nut 2 smert, mindless, dumdum l'il bimbo has absolutely no relation to my ability to run my own life. In fact, the more capable I feel in the big, wide world, the more I long to be taken to that fucktoy, in-need-of-control space.

I can be going along, minding my own business, ripping through the to-do list and a host of chores when it comes over me like a wave. It goes like this...

One minute: God, this day is going well. Look at all that I have achieved so far. I am on a roll. Just about all my ducks are in a row.

Next minute: So, who cares anyway. It is mildly pleasing, but is this all there is? It's not giving me the satisfaction in life I crave. What I really desire is to feel little, helpless and unable to move without somebody giving me a direction. I want to feel the containment and I want to feel my body on fire too. Achievement is nice but it's not thrilling.

Of course, I am intimately aware of the fact that the more time I spend in that space, the more the bimbo switch is on, the more submissive I feel, the more desire I have to retreat into that mindless, ultra turned on space. My relationship with my body is very different here and my mind/body connection is very connected here. I'm a dumdum fucktoy and nothing feels as good as that.

For a girl who likes to use her brain, I am here to say that nothing ever feels as good as the days when I lose my brain. Oh dear! Where did it go?

Doll returns

Perhaps the more people we know, the richer the life. It's possible. I'm open to the idea that every interaction can have value and meaning, however fleeting. However, I wonder, if you look at your lives closely, you might discover that there are only a handful of relationships that mean everything to you.

Even in those relationships and my guess is that you have a deeply caring and sharing relationship with those people, you need to tread relatively carefully. If you want to try to persuade and convince, to teach and instruct, to influence in positive ways, you need to be a skillful navigator of the human psyche. Come towards that person in the wrong light or using inappropriate words and the best of intentions go up in a cloud of smoke as they become defensive and close down.

It strikes me that the greatest asset at our disposal is our own self-control; the ability to pause and reflect before choosing words; to come at any matter with intention in order to effect a positive result.

I don't divide people into 'dominant' and 'submissive' when I speak of self-control because on both sides of the ledger, we need abundant self-control as well as to begin with the end in mind.

One of the goals of exploring the power exchange relationship was to improve my own self-control and I had that goal for various reasons, but all roads led to the fact that I wanted to have a positive influence on other people, but I didn't have all the tricks of the trade. I needed to learn to control my temper, anxiety and emotions , to pause and reflect when I didn't get the responses I was wanting and expecting, mainly because I let my temper get in the way.

Capturing and containing the doll is an effective way for me to be held in a small space where my responses are limited and expectations very clear. The doll has rules that make it almost impossible for her to break away from her place, not that she would want to do that anyway; just saying.

Cultural theories I may have studied, 'reading against the text' I may have done but absolutely nothing sustains me more than expressing that mindset and honing deep into the psyche of a happy, slutty fucktoy. Of course, it's not just that she (it?) may emerge and run free that creates the sense of enormous well being and happiness, but that there is interchange. Nothing is more doll enhancing than running up against control, expectations, appreciation and enjoyment of the object-state.

If you had the ability to observe my spirits soar,  my mind and body relax, the softness of being that is appreciated by all who interact with me when the doll has come out to play, you'd be completely convinced, Feminist, cultural theorist, academic and/or  naysayer of role play and BDSM that this is a very good thing.

Heavenly delights

When it all falls into place, when everything feels totally natural, there is no struggle at all. In the head space of the doll all instructions are good instructions because the doll doesn't struggle or have doubts or worries. She very much lets it all go and just bunkers down into that tiny teeny spot where she feels ultra comfortable and totally relaxed.

For a myriad of reasons we can feel anxious about aspects of our life. Some of us are inclined to be more anxious than others, often with good reason. Some of us had better starts than others and it's those first dozen or more years that really do dictate how tough that road will be.

How marvelous then that we have a vehicle with which to relax. In the space of the doll all commands make total sense because she's doesn't have the the slightest interest in control, or power, or struggle. She isn't worried about anything actually because she's only got one purpose. Keeping the focus this narrow guarantees that all day-to-day concerns can't fit into her head. It's such a teeny tiny space.

Not all men, but certainly some men find interacting with a woman who has let it all go, let her shoulders drop to the point where you can visually see the stress leaving her body, very relaxing as well. Oh sure, there's the voracious aspect about it - the fox with his mouth open and the saliva dripping from his jaws - but he also enjoys the fact that he is suddenly dealing with an entity without a care in the world, someone who wouldn't dream of not doing as she has been instructed.

The dolly head space, certain bars of music, vistas, words, sounds and thoughts can transform my everyday world into moments of heavenly delight and a lightness of being.  I'm really always on the lookout for those special moments that transport me above and beyond into some other planetary orbit, even if just for a few minutes, or even a few special moments. It's what keeps writers, painters, sculptors, landscape gardeners, musicians, chefs and many other creative beings doing what they do - trying to create something truly beautiful; a heavenly delight.

Tante belle cose

I love all things Italian and like Liz in Eat Pray Love I am getting a real kick out of learning some Italian phrases and rolling them around my tongue. I particularly love this particular phrase, tante bella cose reminding me that there are many beautiful things in this world; so much to be grateful for. This pretty pink flower, one of the many beautiful things,  reminds me also that happiness is really always just around the corner.  I feel myself opening up much like this flower, ready to bask in the light. I think I may have turned a corner.  Bella.

The inner child

In my reading over the past few days about patriarchy, the term 'patriarchal voice' just didn't work for me. What I did was replace that term with another. I thought of this voice as a 'protective voice'. It's the voice that we go to for advice about what society deems we should do. This worked better for me. In taking advice from that voice, we can compromise parts of ourselves in that we may not set limits as to what is acceptable and healthy behaviour for us. Or, we may bury other aspects of our personality.

In many cases, I believe, we can lose the 'inner child'. This happens to both men and women as life takes on more and more responsibility and as we listen and take heed to societal pressures. It happens to all of us, in some measure.

During the time of my mentoring, my inner child was allowed free reign. Of course, there were rules and very specific ways of interacting. I knew my place and should I forget, the correction was immediate. For both of us, and I strongly believe this, we were two kids let loose in the candy shop. We were often joyous, child like; exuberant. Fun was very much close to the top of the agenda.

For ages, I wasn't really aware of this. I was too busy just letting out that part of my personality to think about it. I see very clearly now that what was so very special about the exchange (and there were other special things as well) was that we both allowed our inner child free reign.

It's a complex thing because I distinctly remember one time not wanting to do something and the child part of my psyche said so. He insisted that it must be done. There was no manipulation or strategic thinking involved when I replied, "But, wot if cindi sed pleeeeeez? He replied that it wouldn't matter. She still had to do as she was told. This floored me. Didn't little children get their way if they asked oh so nysssseli?? If they were adorable enough, didn't the person in charge say, "Oh, all right. Just. this. one. time." So, my inner child was allowed free reign so long as she understood the voice of authority.

When people listen too hard to their protective voice, they can become very serious. There are all sorts of reasons why they shouldn't do what they would like to do. Or, on the flip side, they want to please, if they are a pleaser, and they don't lay down some limits to protect themselves enough. I think this patriarchal voice that I have been reading about simply is the same thing that my psychologist spoke to me about. It was absolutely fine for me to express the very feminine side of my personality but I also needed to give expression to the side of my personality that wanted to achieve something in the real world for myself. I could be nurturing and doting and giving and submit so long as I put some boundaries around myself. It was okay for me to express all components of my personality. I didn't need to stick to just one entirely.

I look back on my mentoring sessions with great affection. It was my opportunity to let my inner child out in the sunshine to run free. Often gleeful, full of mirth and giggly it was a heady and happy time in my life; the loveliest of gifts.

Voice dialogue

As a woman who has explored an inner voice - the voice of the uninhibited and wanting woman within me, known as cindi - I pricked up my ears when a new friend began to tell me about 'Voice dialogue'. This is a kind of therapy where the therapist asks to speak to any other parts of oneself. Typically, the therapist asks four questions. This is an opportunity for another aspect of one's personality to be given voice.

I take the information I was given with full seriousness and I intend to write more about 'voice dialogue' but there is a part of me that finds it amusing as well. I imagined my therapist of last year asking,

Who or what are you?

If cindi had felt safe with her to answer (and she most certainly did not feel safe to do so) she would have said something like,

"I'm a what, not a who. I'm just an object; a fuck toy; a play thing. I love sex and I like to be used as often as possible. I don't have any control because I love to be controlled and the hoos like to control me, so everybody gets what they want. Wheeeeee."

How are you feeling right now?

Very good. Happy. Ditzy. Ready for fun. Waiting quietly here for someone to come along and play with me. I don't have any worries and I don't have any other thoughts. My head is pretty empty actually. Objects are like that.

What caused you to feel that way?

Well, when cindi was given life, it made  everyone very happy. Before cindi arrived the girl was a worrier and she thought too much. cindi brought joy, peace and happiness. cindi is true to her needs and wants.

How can I help you?

Well, just njoy cindi and welcome her because is she fun loving, and a happi l'il thing. Hi hi therapist.

Do you think the therapist might have replied: "Hi hi, cindi!"

We can but dream.

How 2 pluggi

Der a chenj ob plan owtsyd bimboz cuntrol. Vesta habn rest. Dat paw gurl tinki so much n wurri so much dat she need rest. Dat gud ideuh.

Happili, cindi heer n dis her chans 2 rite bowt her speriensz. Nut onli dat. She heer uuuuuuul week. Yayayayayay!

So, 2dey, cindi wanna rite bowt wut she do eberi nite. Wel, der sum eggsepinz. Wen onnir tel her nut 2 poot in her pluggi coz he wanna yoos her, den she nut. But, on ull da udder nitez (n der few udda eggsepinz 2 da rool, liki now) she pluggi.

Jus l8li, onnir tel her dat sumtymz he liki 2 poot da pluggi in 4 her. Dat nys! But, sumtymz onnir bizi or nut ebin heeer n on ull doz tymz, most tymz so far, cindi poot in her pluggi at ni ni tym.

If nut bimbo, den mebbe nut no dis proces, so dat wut cindi do 2dey - splane how she poot in her pluggi.

Heerz da prosess:

Ferst, in da ebin, afta her showr n wen she redi go bi bi, cindi get Mr. Big or Mr. Ringo. Wich wun depinz on stuf offin owta her cuntrol. But, if gotsa choys, she choos Mr. Big, coz he da perfekt nite tym pluggi - beri cumfertibl but also stil kwite strechi. If, Mr. Ringo, datsa lotsa strechi n dat beri challengn uuuuul nite - beri, beri strechi.

So, lettuce sey she gots Mr Big in her hand. He fit in her han beri nyseli. She can grab him n he fill da palm cindiz han. N, wen cindi holdz Mr. Big in her han, alredi her hed stert 2 tinki bowt da strechi. Dat prolli a bimbo ting.

Cindi tekz Mr. Big n da loob, n a towel n she layz down on da floor on da towel. She coberz Mr. Big wif loooob, uuuuuul obr him, frum top 2 bottim. Den, she lay on her syd - on her left syd - n she poots sum loooob on her asscunt 2.

Cindi tenz 2 lay on her elbo n hol up her hed wif her lef han but den da rest da body on da towel; beri relaxd. Cindi bringz up her neez n offin she fyn dat her rite leg furda bent dan her left leg. It sorta da feetal posishn. Dis beri nateril 2 her.

cindi tek pluggi n pooosh it gentli genst da asscunt, jus 2 get Mr. Big rekwayntd gin n also, it bitva teeeez.

Den, beri slowli she stert to poooosh Mr. Big in2 da asscunt - beri slowli n deliber8li n sureli. She beri stil n silent udder dan da poooosh coz she njoy feeln Mr. Big slowli enter da asscunt n stert 2 tek charj.

It prolli onli bowt twenty secunz l8r, sumtymz mebbe mor, n cindi hab da thik end Mr. Big ul da wey 2 da asscunt entrans.

Now, dis wen da reeeeeel werk beegin. Dis wen cindi stopz n reeeeeeeeli cumcentr8z. Gentli but wif determin8n, cindi poooshz on the end of da pluggi n den she hab pluggi sit der 2 c if he ready 2 go ull da wey in. Sumtym, mebbe haf minut l8r, she feelz a grab. Udder tymz, Mr Big nut kwite redi. 2 hep him, bimbo releees him n den do wun big poooooosh. Eida wey, der a momin beri soon afta dat where she feel him tek obr. She let owt a l'il kwiet groan az he tek obr da asscunt n claim it az his own. 4 a secun, it feelz liki dat it jus 2 big 4 cindi n den a secun l8r it feelz jus rite.

Wen pluggi in his plays, cindi meeeedi8li beegin skueeez - lotsa skeeeeezn coz dat how she treynd - 2 skeeeez lots n lotz. Wif fayswashr she wipe wey eni xsess looooob n den she redi go bi bi. Dis da wey ull wel treynd bimboz sweeepiz.

Erli on, cindi nut abil 2 sweeepi ull da nite. Mr Big wakiz her. He ten 2 do tingz 2 her udder holz 2 dat mek it herd 4 cindi 2 stey sweepiz. Tots invayd her myn n she tinki bowt fuckiz lots.

Now, generili, she ken sweeepiz trew da nite happili wif mr big. But, if told yoooos Mr. Ringo, dat a difrin stori. Mr Ringo beerrrriiiiii strechi stil, n cindi kenna ignor him. He get her reeeeei hot n bothrd stil. Mr. Ringo stil a chalinj 4 cindi ulll nite.

In da morni, cindi wakiz beri happili wif her pluggi. Dat a lubeli wey wakiz 4 her. Sumtymz, she nut tek pluggi owt rite wey. It such a loss sumtymz dat she keep in trew da mornin. Nut ull da tym, but sumtymz, def.

Da gole 4 cindi 2 wer pluggiz mor dan she nut. Dat wonna happin dis week...

Mey hab notissd dat Vesta ken get her nikerz in nut. Dis a sheym. cindi nebr dis wey. Her pluggi pasify bimbo n keep her happi n kerfree. A bimbo wiffowt a pluggi a sed ting coz dis da bimbo swich.

cindi beri happi l'il ting. So herd 4 her 2 unnerstan y wood wanna gurl. Herd 4 cindi 2 unnerstan Vesta sumtymz. She nys gurl az gurlz go, gess...

Hope njoyd lernin how 2 yoos pluggi. Eni kestuns? Til 2moro. Bi bi.

Yoozn bimbo

Cindi receefd dis lovely pikki a whyl go az a prezzi n she reeeeli luvd it. Dis pikki pleyd on da bimboz myn. She offin tinkz bowt it. Bimboz beri much dis wey inclynd. Dey alweyz lookn 2 get yoosd in new n wunderfool weyz.

Bimbo nut beri alyv dis week. Da gurl took obr n bimbo hab keep low profyl. Dis med her sad n dis morning onnir wan 2 relax da bimbo n bring her back 2 lyf.

First, bimbo n onnir talkiz beri calmly n kwietli n dis med cindi happi. It a beri gud talkiz. Onnir sey dat it tym 4 bimbo 2 get relaxd. Bimbo sey she nut sur but onnir sey dat the way it goz. He desydnn 4 hissef.

Onnir get some his rope and tie da bimboz hanz up reeeli wel. Der no wey she can moov dem sept to put da palms 2getha reeli. He gif bimbo a nys rub 2 sooth her paw tyd musselz n den he sey dat he wanna yoos da holz.

He poot a pillo unda cindiz tummi 2 rays her bit n he enter her asscunt. Dis feelz jus gr8. But, soon enuf bimbo stert 2 thinki bowtz dis beri speshel pikki n she begin 2 pull up her legs so dat dey unda her, liki da bimbo in the pikki.

“Ohhh, cindi wanna mor cocki,” sey onnir n he wayt 4 cindi 2 get in da sem posishin dis bimbo in da pikki.

Dis new posishin fantastik! The sens8shnz beri powafool n alredi da orgasmic feelinz cumin thik n fast 4 cindi. But, dis new sens8shin doin ebin mor 4 onnir n he beri beri arowzd. He grab bimboz her n hold her tite n he begin 2 bite her – l’il nips on da sholderz.

He nut jus wanna tek bimbo but he wanna gif her da fuckin of her lyf – long n hard n fast – n bimbo screeemn in2 da sheet. She asaloootli on fyr n habin da tym ob her lyf. He tek wun han n rub her pussy cunt wich neerli blowz her myn.

Finalli, afta she tinki she mey xpyr frum plezir, onnir leeef his cum in bimboz ass cunt. She profeshinel bimbo n dis pleez her mor dan she ken sey. She totelli sate8d.

B4 onnir goz 2 tek a showr he sort bimbo owt n put a pillo unda her hed and a blanki ovr her n bi da tym he bak, she fast sleeepiz bi bi. She sleep nudda 3 howrz b4 she waki gin n wen she duz finely waki, she feel beri beri happi n cumpleet n reestord. She hab beri happi dey wif onnir, nut doin ull da much but so beri foolfild.

It beri importin 2 yoos bimboz regirlee. Dis keepz dem happi n invigor8z dem. Bimbo kenna stress dis hili nuf.

Sizzle, sizzle

I think I am really testing David's patience lately as he waits for me to write the latest scene from Agnes' point of view. Being the 'good guy' that he is, he knows that I have to get certain things out of my system first. Sometimes, life creeps up on you and reveals things to you and you have no alternative but to stop and just absorb it for a while. Yet today, I feel so floaty and happy and able and content that I just have to write here how very happy I feel!

In the last post, Oatmeal Girl made the following comment: "Need, obsession, inspiration, service... we seem to be on opposite sides of the seesaw, but without both of us it will not move and we will not reach the heights." It didn't pass Shape Shifter by either that this was a particularly poignant statement.

Need, obsession, inspiration and service are words that all have great meaning and impact in my life. My needs are just that; not wants alone but very much needs. I certainly obsess. You don't write more than 450 posts about all this and not have an obsession.

I am fortunate to receive abundant inspiration and may I humbly suggest, that I would not receive that inspiration if I did not myself inspire.

And, I serve. I do indeed serve, with good grace and dignity and pleasure.

Today is one of those days that I can tick off as a thrilling success! Just this once you don't really need the details, do you? Let's just say, I'm sizzling like only good dolls do! Can we leave it at that? And now, I can do some writing.

Happy holiday

The festive season is well underway and in a few days, it will be Christmas. This is my last opportunity to wish all readers, whatever your faith, a very happy holiday.

May it be filled with fun and good cheer. Stay safe and well, spread the joy and have a very happy, blessed holiday.