Climbing the mountain

 The trance that I spoke about recently in the last post was much awaited. The reason for this is that two months earlier, my submissive mindset had been removed. I wouldn't have ever thought this was possible if I hadn't experienced myself. 

I'm not sure that it was intended for me to have such a hard time of it, or so it was said later, but that was certainly the outcome. My mind has been kinky for 60 years, so to suddenly have trouble accessing it, in spite of my best efforts, was discombobulating and confusing.

I don't think the hypnotist cared a dot. I think it was designed that way for a couple of reasons, for my best interests. First of all, he needed to be sure that I was 'independent' enough to go into a permanent D/s style relationship. He wanted me to tend to myself, my needs, my goals, my Self. Secondly, I think when you deprive someone like me of their thoughts that provide succor, you build up an intense demand to have your deepest desires met, to get to the 'just BE submissive' part. I'd offered him access to this blog and of course it wasn't lost on him that I had been evaluating submission. Now it was time to practice it and simply be in that mode.

It didn't always go the way it was expected to go. At one point, I walked away. I wasn't used to someone else deciding such a thing on my behalf or to use such methods.

Anyway, it was a flat tire, the car was still in good working order, and so we resolved that problem with a telephone conversation where I could tell he was using all his persuasive powers to get me back on the road.

 I dilly dallied, and finally said, "....okay..." 

"No, no, you don't have to decide now. Take some time to think about it."

An excellent strategy, I must say. The guy is good. I emailed the next day and said I was ready to go.

In the trance that followed on a few weeks after that conversation, I did identify as a slave. He has written a great deal of material about kink and yet in all that material there was one paragraph that deeply resonated as to my circumstance.

He explains that someone who identifies as a slave has willingly and with full consciousness surrendered their right to say 'no'. It's a bit like owning a car, he says, and then giving it away. She no longer needs a car, doesn't want the car anymore and willingly and with full consciousness gives it away to her partner. First, she needed to own the car before she could give it away.

That's what happened to me. I think. I needed to feel what it was like to be 'just a girl in control of herself' to, with full consciousness, surrender that independence in order to develop interdependence.

He was issuing commands, and I was complying. Nothing seemed difficult about that...until the orgasms were so ongoing, and I was tiring, that, unwittingly, unconsciously, as if I were with my husband and might request mercy, my throat formed one tiny word, 'please'. If it were conscious, I wouldn't even have tried this. I assure you; it was completely unconscious.

'Please what?' he asked, softly, as soft as my 'please'.

I can't remember what I said. Maybe, 'please may I stop?'

His voice became deep and powerful. There's no way I can remember everything that he said but it went something like this.

'How dare you be so disrespectful. Did I tell you to stop? You do as you are told. You'll keep going as long as I tell you to keep going. Don't you dare stop!'

Like that.

Yeah. I had willingly and with full consciousness surrendered the right to say no.

Did it feel right? Did it feel good?

It felt fantastic.

He has a keen sense of when to demand, and when a girl complies satisfactorily, or exceedingly well, I don't know, he rewards. That's when he told me the story, and when I sat on the floor with my left face cheek on the upholstered seat and listened with the rapture of a little girl to his story about ancient times and me being brought to the household of slaves to be trained.

Maybe ten days later, after quite a bit of back and forth with my husband, some ups and downs in our lives, I committed to establishing a power exchange for life. I took on the mindset of a slave.

There hasn't been any sex since then, so what does that mean for me at this point? It means, in my mind, that just as a slave may have a volatile Owner, an anxious Owner, but still is a slave, serving, so am I. That may not sound like much, but it is a lot to me, and it feels right.

Two little anecdotes from my morning. On the way to yoga, I played music in the car and on came 'Climb every mountain'. Barbra Streisand and a male singer do a little chat first and Barbra says, 'If you want something you never had, you have to do something you've never done.' I have heard those words many times but today it meant something very personal to me.

Then, the yoga class was led by a young woman who is into deity stories and such and she told little stories while we held poses and said at one point that a pose was in service to Lord somebody.  I believe we were performing 'Humble Warrior' at the time. These service poses have always felt right to me.

Towards the end of the class she said, 'We are so often in service to others, and this can come naturally to some of us, but we find it more difficult to be in service to ourselves.

The slave mindset is, in fact, in service to myself.  It feels so natural and such a relief to just be who I am. I climb the mountain, one step at a time, inching forward to my dream.

Feeling Free

To feel free is to completely let go of anything and everything that holds you down. There are many definitions: to liberate, no longer confined or imprisoned; to let go.

Most likely, your personal definition or description of feeling free is quite different to mine. A person in China restricted from offering his personal opinions freely would have a sense of liberty if the situation altered and he was able to express himself freely without fear of punishment.

The child who feels constrained to become someone that their parents wish him or her to be would feel a sense of freedom if the parents were to assure the child that it was their wish simply for the child to be happy.

A man or woman who holds their opinions tight to their chest for fear of an upsetting argument would feel freed if the partner were to assure that they would remain calm and discuss the situation openly and rationally regardless of opposing views.

There is a beautiful sense of freedom away from home with no possessions but a few changes of clothes in a suitcase.

There is the freedom of the meditation cushion when the stillness of the still mind (they mean the natural/free mind which has nothing to do with thought) is reached.
 
 It's subject to interpretation as to whether freedom is achieved with no thoughts but plenty of feelings. There is a tendency for us to want to be free of what is sometimes referred to as the negative feelings - anger, sadness, hatred, jealousy. Yet, it's so interesting what happens when we quietly sit and allow those feelings full rein. It's hard to hold onto negative feelings for more than a couple of minutes. The physiological responses are so intense that after a few minutes of quietly sitting with them, they quite naturally begin to subside, to reduce and to  dissolve. There's a freedom right there.

There are people who seem emotion less and people who are too emotional and in both cases to sit quietly with oneself and check in - how I am doing? how am I feeling? - is liberating for the busy self. It's having an awareness of your state that can free you from being in an automated state, as if unattached from your self, or unhinged. We sit with 'our whole body' on the meditation cushion. We have arrived. There is no where we need to be and no-one else whose needs come before our own. It's a liberating thought.

For several years it was possible with very little effort to take me to a bimbo state of mind. A translation of that state would be sexually liberated, or the object state of mind/no mind. This happens less now than it used to and the question for myself is if I am in some way to blame for the situation. Am I less inclined to 'let go', something that was so natural, so easy for me not so long ago?

Philosophies and spiritual teachings tell us that there are no mistakes (which I find hard to accept but let's go with it for now). That is, we are not dust in the wind. We are the wind. We are not part of life. Life lives through us. If that's the case, I haven't made a 'mistake', it's just that 'letting go' into the bimbo part of me is not often available to me at this juncture in my life.

On my meditation cushion the experience is with myself. I am in relationship with my self. The experience of being free is available to me at any time when I choose to let go and enter the stillness of the still mind.

In my dreams or daydreams, my fantasy life, bimbo is readily accessible to me. She simply never goes away for the very reason that she is respite from the worried, harried mind. I can, if I wish or must, enter a state where liberties are few and expectations are sordid, and this frees my mind; relaxes me and subdues anxiety. I would never banish her for the very reason that she is so necessary to me.

Needless to say I thrive, not just survive, when bimbo in all her vivid colour splashes onto the canvass. This state is not available to me without the aid of the artist who wishes to paint a particular image; who with instinctive and particular knowledge can apply the brush strokes with just the right flow and smoothness to create the texture most satisfying.

It happens effortlessly when the artist is in sync with the canvass, knows what he wants and feels into his heart how the brush will work with him and for him to create something of beauty and liberating force. Each painting created in this way will have its own essential life force. Like love, it happens when both elements in play reach into something innate; something derived from nature. Only then can they both be liberated.

Whatever you want

It's been different since we went on vacation. My husband referred to it this morning as a 'circuit breaker'. He's been more demanding, which I love, and in turn I feel more myself, calm and at peace.

He says that I am happiest, and most fun to live with when I am reduced to the smallest possible entity; that the satisfaction that comes from that for me is life enriching; puts a huge smile on my face and allows me to glow with a sense of inner happiness.

It's true. I love to feel my place; to be a help-mate and to float along under the radar; with some responsibilities, naturally, but not making any big decisions. That's not my role.

There are rules and expectations. It must be this way. Truthfully, the dog and I have a slightly troubled relationship because we are so alike. We thrive when we receive plenty of attention, but when we know the pecking order too. We aim to look cute so that we receive love in spades and we are never happiest than when in close touch with the Owner. It's our nature to be so, and that's all there is to that, hence, as much as I love her, we are competitors. That's the truth.

Right now, I adore my life. I adore the feelings of togetherness, of solidarity to the one cause, and of feeling so comfortable in my skin. Surrendering seems so easy at times like this. Whatever you want. It really is so trouble at all.

Namaste

Relax...

Release...

Let go...

Lust

When I 'let go' and give up all control, it feels a bit like this photograph. Whilst it may not be evident let me assure you this girl is glowing; loving every moment of surrender and being in the gentleman's care. She may be on a leash but she has no complaints. She kneels willingly, blissfully aware that nothing feels quite as good as this.

Is it that she is the centre of his attention? It could be. Could it be that to lower herself in this way is to rise to the heights of pleasure? That may be so.

For me, to relinquish control and do exactly as I'm told is to soar to heights that I can't reach any other way. I absolutely love to surrender my will. I absolutely adore the heady feeling of my body reacting to the commands. Not to move a muscle unless directed has a gorgeous feeling of release. Those commands, that rather forceful control of my mind, and then my body, switches on my mind which prepares my body for the purest of pleasure. By now, there are no thoughts at all in my head. Nothing is left but the dumdum slutti fucktoy. And, lust.

A fork in the road

I opened this web journal to readers on March 9, 2009. I had written a couple of posts for Deity's web journal earlier than that, but March 9 is when I began writing here. And, I see that it is just slightly over two years since that day. Reading back there this morning, I feel rather pleased that my voice was loud and clear and that in fundamental ways, I have not changed.

I mentioned in the post that I was inclined to analyze and two years of writing here is testament to that! Oh boy! I mentioned that submission was a big part of my life and that is certainly still true today. I mentioned that I was "complicated" and that is now official. And, I mentioned that submission makes me happy and that what makes me happy makes for a happy husband and children. It is still pertinent and true. I am a fortunate woman to be able to say that I am much loved.

A lot of water has passed under the bridge in the past two years and I am delighted and grateful to also be able to say that I have learned much about submission and myself. It hasn't been a particularly easy period of my life but it has been rich in growth and I have had some truly extraordinary experiences and moments.

I'd be lying if I said that arousal was not a huge plus of the past two years. A few years prior to opening this web journal I came out as a spanko. The arousal began on that very first day and so I cannot attribute the writing here or the experiences of the past two years to turning on the arousal response. What I can say is that I learned to be aroused in very new and exciting ways over the past two years. Some of the most thrilling sexual experiences of my life took (and take) place in a state of complete surrender. Those states satiate my deepest longings; renew and enrich me in ways I had not thought imaginable.

I will always be grateful for the training I received that enabled me to reach those highs (or lows, depending on which way you look at). It has kept me young, playful and abundantly happy with life. It is my delicious, dirty secret and I consider myself very lucky. My husband (and remember he is pure Aussie and speaks from the heart and the gut at the one moment) has always maintained that you can tell when a woman has been well fucked. Many is the time when he tells me I "glow" and certainly in the hours after I have been "used" and even objectified, I feel an electric charge and a lightness of being that must surely be a good thing.

A lot of the work of the past two years has gone into my mindset. Given my husband's personality and mine, I have needed to come to terms with the fact that he's the boss not just in the bedroom but he's the boss of the family and of me, in all areas really. I needed to learn all sorts of things about that. I needed to learn to ask for what I need. I needed to learn to accept him for exactly who he is and not try to change him. I needed to learn to talk to him in a way where he listened and took in what I wanted to say.

I needed to learn to accept that when he decided to do things in his own way, I could be at peace with that and have faith that things would work out satisfactorily in the end. I belong to him and he belongs to me. We play different roles and have different responsibilities but we are two parts of a whole and a very intact, deeply loving and caring whole at that. I feel very at peace with all this now. I feel that our future is bright and I know we go forward in good order, completely united and have much to look forward to.

I've accepted myself as the introverted soul that I am. Enjoying the company of many different kinds of people, afterwards I look to go home and seek out my own company; to charge my batteries and reflect; always reflecting. I have learned that I must find ways to switch off my brain from the thoughts that so often race there and I now have a regular routine of walking with the dogs; yoga; pilates and being very still; a sort of meditation, though I have so much yet to learn about that. I seek a balance with the world and within myself that can only be mine when I embrace a still mind.

Objectification was an enormous part of stilling my mind and completely successful. I don't expect anyone to understand that any more than I expect anyone to fully understand anything that they have not experienced. I was only 'It' a handful of times but this was an 'out of body' experience for me and one I would not have missed for the world. I am eternally grateful to have had those opportunities.

I've loved embracing my 'dolli' state. I love dressing up and always have and the idea that I pay attention to my dress, my makeup, my nails and so on was like giving me a piece of New York cheesecake; scrumptious. Talking sweetly, minding my manners, choosing words very carefully and even removing words from my vocabulary were amazing experiences for me and I have relished them. The need to return to that cindi state often overwhelms me; what a happy little camper she is - so wanting to please, to obey and to sink down into that wanton and submissive space of hers. I love her to death!

Yet, I feel a change in the wind and possibly a new direction. Nothing about me and my submissive nature has changed at all but there is an understanding that there is nothing more to challenge. I am who I am. I function best in a particular way and my husband functions best in a particular way. We get this. We accept this. We want this. It is not that there is not more to learn and experience, because I have no doubts that there is.

Rather, I must now work on the other part of me that also lied dormant for many years. It is indisputable that I was born to be a wife and a mother. I adore my family with a very deep passion and when the time comes that I am a grandmother I will welcome those babies into my arms and my life with abundant warmth in my heart. My husband relishes the thought, always saddened that our children needed to grow up at all. How much he loved to cuddle them!

The part of me that is just me - the girl who came into the world alone - must now find the courage and the will to find her voice and to express herself - not as a wife or a mother or a submissive woman but the woman that must stand on her own two feet and do something just for herself, of which her family will be proud. It is time now for this girl to recognize herself as an autonomous person - a person in her own right who must make her mark on the world and leave behind a little piece of herself.

Of course one goal does not negate the other, nor would that be acceptable or achievable. It is not in my nature to take on something that would interfere with the fine balance of the rest of my life. But, it is quite clear that I need to try to achieve something in my own right now and my husband wants that very much as well. I need to find the confidence in myself and in my own abilities to take risks and to branch out further into life. I have taken little baby steps along that path and I know it makes me feel good to find that part of me again.

What I am trying to say is that I don't know how much reason there will be any more to write on these pages about my life. It isn't that I have gone away or that my interest has gone away but rather that I need to find new interests and ways of expressing myself that won't be relevant here. I am old enough to know that you must never say 'never' and so these pages will stay open and from time to time, no doubt there will be something to express and share. And, David and I enjoy writing about Frederick and Angus and you'll continue to find those chapters here.

This little web journal of mine is very dear to me and in my own way, I am proud of it - of peeling the onion one layer at a time until I found that which was true to me and right for me. Right now, it feels that I have reached a place and that there is nothing more to share in this semi-public space.I have been wrong before and I could be wrong again. So let's just say, that I will see you somewhere down the track.

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.

Active versus Passive Submission

The notion of submission being active or passive as discussed in David's post is intriguing to me. I consider these sort of ideas in terms of how they refer to my own submission so that I give them 'grounding' and I'd like to suggest that my sense of submission has elements of both passive and active submission that relate to how I think and to the requirements of the dominant.

Let’s start with how I think. The subliminal messages we send ourselves are made up of all sorts of life lessons; what our parents and teachers said; what our friends say; what we read and how we process all that information. Somewhere along the line, I got the message that a submissive woman like me should not ask for things. Rather, when and if the dominant was ready he would give me what he thought I needed. As David said,

“Submission that is a restrained response, because the girl is often restrained, and it sets a tone or pattern, and she often feels that is what is expected of her. That she is expected to be quiet and calm and still and respond, and certainly is not expected to initiate.”

In the context of my life, that notion did not function so well. I have a busy husband with lots of thoughts to distract him away from what the inner needs of his girl might be at any particular time and being passive and biding my time proved to be frustrating and debilitating. I thought I had to wait for him to notice that I was in need of his attention for it to be a legitimate submission and so not only was I out of kilter but I felt that we were out of kilter. That road of passivity had many slippery slopes.

In fairness, I have always been encouraged to ask for what I want/need and if I went to my husband in his study and asked him for a spanking, he would accommodate me, at least nine times out of ten. Unless he was on a conference call, I think I could seduce him too, at least nine times out of ten. He is not impartial to some impromptu tender loving care and he would rise to the challenge presented to him. (Yes, I did enjoy typing that sentence.)

But, for far too long I had this inner thought that this was not the way it was meant to be. He was meant to be the all-powerful, all-knowing Dominant/Top and my place was to be passive and wait.

I am over that sort of thinking now and our conversations are much more fluid. I certainly recognize that tact at such times comes in very handy and politeness is a prerequisite, but I do not feel it is wrong or bad to be active in my submission any longer and I operate on a basis of co-responsibility as to my sense of my submission and how that is playing out in my life.

Yet, a submissive can easily go one step too far in pursuing an active style of submission. David noted,

“I think submissives often feel that they walk that fine line between expressing themselves, and drawing his wrath for being un-submissive and attempting to grab control, and I suspect it tends to make a girl very passive.”

This is not an uncommon mistake for me to make and I offer a couple of examples of the sort of situation where active submission can get out of control.

Recently, I felt a certain apprehension about a situation and I made that point to my mentor. He listened carefully, as always. Perhaps it was my tone or perhaps he had a sense that the matter had spilled into that grey area where my trust in him to handle things was put into question. It was my turn to register his state of mind. Did I not think that he had taken these matters into account?

I immediately recognized that my point had been made and noted but that I was within a hair’s breadth of damaging the fine balance of our relationship and I immediately reverted back to my place; reclaimed by status as the bottom/student. As I see it, one can walk up to the line and even peek over, but one really must not venture over to the other side. There is a sense of order and fitness of things here and one gets to sense that within the relationship and adjust one’s modus operandi accordingly. Hence, submission is a flowing sort of entity, with some parts of the river requiring passivity and other stretches requiring an active submissive response.

Another example would be conversations with my husband about financial dealings where he tells me what is happening and I listen. I am welcome to ask questions always but I am highly discouraged from asking the same question twice or from offering my advice too freely. Our dynamic has evolved in that my trust in him is expected. I may not fully agree with the process he used to get us where he wants to go but I should know this and I should know it well: he will take care of me.

I suppose that sounds rather passive. I am not active in the process. I have not initiated too much except to request clarification, or ask a question or expression concern over something. But, in my life, according to my dynamic, that is enough. The sensitive balance of who leads and who follows requires that degree of passivity to function well.

Much of what I write, here in this post or in the journal generally is about a loving relationship or a relationship with good intent and tenderness. It is a relationship in constant movement and back and forth and one where balance will go awry, even ever so slightly sometimes. Adjustments and corrections are just part of the deal and thus my submission will move – from passive at one time to active in another. One feels one’s way through this because at the heart of submission is that one wants to please. I don’t think it is possible to get away from this notion in the submissive’s mind.

A submissive will look to her dominant as a guide as to how to conduct herself and I would like to suggest this thought. If he says he would like to see her show some initiative, then the time has come for her to cast off her preconceived ideas of submission. If he wants to feel her return his kiss passionately, then why not?

I find myself intrigued with the quote from BDSM: A Kinkster’s Guide in David’s post:

“"I don't want to be told not to sit on the toilet seat or denied an orgasm. I want to be conquered. I want to be dominated. I want to be subdued.”

It is the submissive mind set, I believe, to want to be subdued. I live for those moments when my husband comes to me and without fanfare takes me, is rough with me even and has his way. It goes to the core of what makes me feel alive; feminine; cherished (as odd as that may sound to some ears).

But, I cannot agree that I don’t want to be denied an orgasm necessarily because my mindset is that I do relish being controlled, be it subtle control which I find incredibly erotic or forceful control. In my mind, obedience is part of control and control is part of feeling the submission; or better put, part of feeling that I am interacting with the dominant. There is passivity to these situations and I think it is a passive submission for a reason: because I want to be dominated.

At the end of the day, each relationship will function according to the people involved but for it to truly work well I think the dominant has to get across how he would like his submissive to behave. This is often not a well defined statement of law but something said in passing and I have learned to listen carefully to the dominant. His preferences are there somewhere just as he observes her closely to determine best how to control his submissive to keep her happy and in her mode. I think the submissive needs to be light footed, moving effortlessly from a passive to an active submission according to the needs of the day.

The best thing she can do, in my opinion, is to throw out the door preconceived ideas of what a submissive does or how a submissive should act and instead interact with her dominant in a cohesive, interactive way.

P.S. I've just realized that today is Love our Lurkers Day! This is the day once a year when bloggers invite those readers who have never left a comment before to say hello, or tell us what is on their minds. I just adore it when someone new takes the plunge and leaves me a comment and I invite readers to take this opportunity to join the fun and comeraderie. You are most welcome as are the regular commenters, of course. And, thank you to Bonnie at My Bottom Smarts for continuing this initiative.

Fluency

It is stated in the the Bible, Ecclesiastes III (King James Version), "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."

As I wake to a beautiful sunny morning here in the country, the only sound that I can hear (apart from the click clack of my acrylic nails on the keyboard) is birds singing. And, it occurs to me that a long, wet, dreary winter has its purpose. How could one really know the beauty of this morning, the magic of this experience if one has not lived through the winter and waited, waited, waited for this moment?

As my children were growing up, every now and again there was the ever so sad tale of someone that we knew, sometimes close to us, sometimes just acquaintances, or other parents whose children were at the same school, whose child had taken their life in the dead of the night. And each time I thought that the great pity and sorrow of it all was that they had not understood that the difficult days would pass and after them, happiness would come.

I feel in an extraordinarily good place right now. I felt a shift in my mind a few days ago that felt really wondrous - a sense that I had overcome all my internal struggles and that I was handling life with ease. Suddenly, everything seemed do-able. I had the feeling that it was all within my powers. I had no more control than I did yesterday but I felt under control, able to not only cope with any situation but to find my peace with it and to thrive.

At school, when my son begins a new chapter of German or Chinese the first thing he does is to make a set of cards - the word in English on one side of the card and the word in German (or Chinese) on the other. It is a little routine I started him off with when his vocabulary tests demonstrated that he didn't have command of the new words for the chapter. And, with the words now in his command, he executes the tasks of the chapter without difficulty discovering that by the time of the topic test a few weeks later, his results are very good.

I have done the same thing for myself with my submission lessons. I have written down my lessons, reading them to myself over and over, making sense of them, internalising them and embracing them. I have a little black book where I write them and it goes with me wherever I go. And, with the rules and vocabulary of my lessons, I have attempted to put the lessons into practice and to make them part of my everyday life.

Learning foreign languages did not come easily to me at school. Yes, I took my French all the way through high school but my son is much smarter than me and I needed to work really hard to achieve the score I needed; a requirement in those days to go onto study Arts at university. Perhaps, if I had made out some cards...?

It takes time. It takes time to learn the lessons of submission and to really own them: to embrace them with your heart and your mind and your soul. My lessons have finally, and after a great deal of practice and work, seeped into the pores of my skin and buried themselves deep inside of me. They are a part of me and they won't go away. Of course, I will need to continue to use them, to practice the language of submission, to converse and to write and to read but I feel fluent now. It is not difficult and I enjoy it. I enjoy it a great deal.

There are many learning styles and one way to get through some tests is just to memorize a stack of information. It never worked for me and I had to work with material until I understood it from all sides. And, when it came to Literature or History or Philosophy I needed to do even more. I needed to not only know it very well but to feel it: to feel a connection with the text such that I could write from my heart; not the words of some esteemed professor who had analyzed the text but my own response to it.

This is most certainly a guided exploration that I am on but also a very personal and individual one. It delights me to write, I am at peace. It has made me very happy.