Serious struggle

I can be impulsive. I'm being impulsive now. Writing in this blog is a very public thing to do. God knows where readers come from but they are fast congregating and I'm not silly, I know this blog will be read by the powers that be. My words will be dissected and probably work against me.

You see, in a very tangible and real way, I'm deeply questioning my choices. I'm all grown up. Hell, my four children are all grown up. Although I do indeed have fantasies that put me under the auspices of strict, rigid people (bastards and bitches really, let's be clear) I find myself in a situation where I must tackle these notions of control and compliance with which I have been presented. Don't I need to stop feeding these thoughts that go in a loop, constantly dragging me back into a world that can leave me really quite distraught and unable to function well, like now?

Without doubt, when it is good, it is very good. When all is going well I'm happy, but then something goes wrong, the strict (sadistic) discipline kicks in and I find myself asking, 'What are you doing? You know how debilitating this is for you. Isn't it time to let it go?'

I can hear your mind ticking over already. What has got into her? What has precipitated these feelings? I ask the same question myself. I know the answer but it is painful to share, to admit it even to myself.

I feel disrespected. I feel infantalised. I feel so profoundly uncomfortable with what has gone down in the past several days that I find myself needing to run in the opposite direction. There's a rigidity imposed and a conformity expected that I can't abide. I'm too old to be treated this way, possibly not 'doll' material after all if this sort of treatment is necessary. Bottom line, I'm just deeply, deeply upset and know that I am expected to swallow it. Can't.

I don't know whether to call it 'self respect' or 'sense of self' or 'pride' or 'ego'  but there's a hurt here that isn't likely to heal by just papering it over this time. If this sort of dominance is considered necessary (= anything goes to ensure complete compliance) I may have travelled as far into the world of someone else controlling me as it is possible for this woman to go.

Being corrected

After all this time, I still can't quite believe that I'm the sort of person that needs a boss. The evidence is indisputable, the behaviours so instinctual, and yet, it sometimes feels unbelievable to me, like a dream, like I'm talking about somebody else.

I read just before a quote on tumblr: 'The grip may be loose, but it is there, and it is a constant.' It's a very nice sentiment but it doesn't serve me that well. I once believed that it is entirely enough, maybe even too much, but it's not, for me. I do best with rules, even if I'm not always sure that I like the rules.

The truth is that I am indeed the sort of person that does well, and struggles, with tighter control than that. Erotically, psychologically, tight control is enticing. Egoistically, this same tight control that seems to be a very good fit, confounds me, because I am not, and never was, especially comfortable with the notion of correction. Oh sure, correction can be arousing but it is also deeply challenging. There's that distinct part of my brain that wants to say, 'Just who do you think you are?!'

For several days I've asked myself 'Why?' Why is it that I am so profoundly challenged by being corrected, really brought to task for something? I can only answer that I don't like making mistakes. I don't like being called on my mistakes. My sense of self demands that I do things well, but flaws, human flaws that we all have, weaknesses and limitations, prevent me from always achieving my best. This seems reasonable to me but quite unreasonable, of course, to a boss. He wants more.

Sometimes, I simply don't do my best. Sometimes, I wing it. Sometimes, I grab that little treat, even if I am not entitled to it. Or, I dilly dally. Or, I don't give a task the importance it (or someone else thinks it) deserves. To put it simply, I please myself, which is not conducive to having a boss.

I wrestle with this. I know I want a boss, but a boss corrects, which means I have to 'pull my head out of my ass' long enought to recognize that what I do, or don't do, is the problem. If I want a boss, and  I do, I have to conform, do things his way, and not my own.

This is all commonsense, BDSM 101. Still, it's fun to plant bombs under his chair, in my mind. I'm not the only one doing that, right?

The call of the simple life

I happened to find this post in my 'drafts', written a long time ago, and rather liked it. A similar feeling has just washed over me. Darn, but I am a homebody...

I'm flooded with a sense of happiness right now - feelings of love. From where do they emanate? Well, my husband and I saw the Australian Ballet over the weekend perform 'Chroma' and that was a wonderful treat, a really lovely sharing experienc for us that followed a delightful meal and wine at the Arts Centre. We'd left early enough to have no fuss or anxiety about getting there on time and we both were dazzled by the performance. It's going to be heading to New York and other cities so if you get the chance, don't miss it.

The following evening my son treated us to dinner at the city's most prestigious restaurant and we used up a voucher he was given at work. We didn't hit the hay until 2 am - a lovely, lovely evening with he and his girlfriend.

Today I had one of my rare outings to a huge shopping precint to buy them a slow cooker for their little house that they are renting together and it was fun to do that - bought my book club book, just simple things, but fun.

Is my sense of happiness to be found in those events? I doubt it. It was lovely, privileged, but it's not why I feel so darn content as I type away, I don't think.

I have the big living room/kitchen to myself right now. Both sons are in their rooms upstairs and I am about to complete making salmon patties from scratch and fry them up. My eldest son has just left with the washing I did for him because the washing machine in the new little Victorian rental broke down. I'm playing some superbly restful, peaceful guitar music. I've already done my weekly assignment...

No one thing in particular is great cause for this happiness that has washed over me. Yet, I feel so 'at one', so calm, so peaceful, so content, as if this is where I am meant to be at this moment in time; my home. I feel this tremendous welling of harmony in my life. The work surrounds me on all fronts. My son has a huge amount of work to chew off this evening. Tomorrow, I must write my heart out to get along with deadlines.

And yet, right now, the world stands still. I'm as peaceful as the clay Buddha that sits at the back wall on my desk, oblivous of all the paper and efforts that take place on this laptop. She sits in eternal peace, her half closed eyes denoting the peace within her. It is as if she has cast her spell over my mood, made me eternally grateful for this privileged life I lead, so full of love. I note the stillness around me. I observe the stillness within myself.

Sometimes I wonder why it is that when I play this guitar music of a Hobart man, that every single time it puts me into this place of peaceful surrender to the love of life. I remember him, I remember his wife and I remember thinking, they are peace, they are love. I want that slow, meaningful, peaceful life too.

Tasmania calls to me so often. I adore it there. I'm happy there. One day I will buy a little house there and the children can come and visit me and let that dear, little island make magic in their lives too.

Endings

Endings are difficult. Where does one end a story, a play, a novel, a blog? Often, one ends a story with the protagonist in much the same place as they were at the beginning of the story, but changed in some important way. I've been writing in the power exchange arena since late 2008 but in many ways I am still living the life I led when I began writing on these pages.

Yet, I've changed. I'm a great fan of Brene Brown and her research into vulnerability and shame. Over time, I  think I was responding to some negative feelings of shame and vulnerability, feelings that I wanted to shake off.

As Brene says, if courage is your value then you have to walk through vulnerability. You have to embrace that feeling in even the hardest moments.

I've talked about looking and finding joy in my life and like Brene I believe that joy comes into your life when you practice love and gratitude. Look for moments of gratitude in your day and you'll start to feel joy.

One of Brene Brown's big statements, one that Oprah likes too is "when we lose our tolerance to be vulnerable joy becomes foreboding". We just have to accept, as human beings living on this planet that vulnerability is part of the package. To be 'the man standing in the arena' is what is important, to demonstrate courage.

To find my courage. This has been my big life lesson and one that being 'overseen' assisted. I've certainly no regrets about exploring life through power exchange relationships because that arrangement helped me to acknowledge my true, best self. It has brought me great joy.

It's time for me to move on to other endeavors. It's been a wonderful experience for me to have had the opportunity to write in this web journal but it is, quite simply, time to move on. I'll keep the journal up for a time but no further entries will be made. There's time to interact with me if you choose to do so, but about the end of the month, I'll close this journal to public readership.

Thank you for reading. Be well.

Bondage

Sometimes, when nothing in particular is going on, it can seem that there is no opportunity for submission, or no expression of submission, or that one feels uncomfortably free. I know that feeling and can feel restless in that feeling.However, what is easily forgotten is that a sense of one's place, of feeling 'whole' in one's skin is actually often already there. We just may not be processing it correctly. Certainly, waiting is a form of bondage. We're in a position such as the one above according to a thought process inside our own heads. (It blows your mind when you really think about it this way.)

I've been denied doing what I am usually expected to do, and while at times I've processed that as being set uncomfortably free, it is an incorrect thought, because I'm never really more bound than being told that I can't do something that I am usually expected to do. Unless you've experienced this subtle form of correction you won't know what I mean. By the last day, desperation sets in to get back on track, trust me. The ties are even stronger in those situations because I'm in a sort of 'reverse bondage', just keen to get it over with and return to being pleasing. The bond hasn't diminished, just the feelings associated with being bound (or not).

On a day to day basis, I'm strongly bound by my efforts to be patient, understanding, tactful and good natured. I feel that strongly. There is, quite simply, no other way to live life happily in my own life but to be aware of my bondage in this way. I'm often challenged as I go about exhibiting tolerance and self-control, and should I err the sense of bondage is felt when I am immediately corrected. It's my place and my role to demonstrate these qualities. It's my particular daily bondage.

Whether one feels that being bound is a happy situation or an irksome one relates to how one processes these experiences and what one wants. I continue to feel my whole self when I feel quite tightly bound to another human being. It could be my desire for a sense of identity and belonging. It could relate to the fact that much thought about this matter assures me that I am most happy when I feel this sense of bondage quite mindfully, when it is ever-present.

Much of what a man wants of a woman when he is into being the leader and she is into following comes innately. It just happens. Other times, a man provides experiences for the woman to immerse herself in that feeling. That's a more erotic and loving kind of situation but both bound the woman. I've thought lately that one can't have one without the other, or I can't. I'm happy to be kept in my place through words if I can also experience the sort of bondage that makes my heart sing. Even erotic bondage on its own is not enough for me. That's a gorgeous sort of topping but I'm aware that if there were no restraints to my behavior I'd be inclined to test repeatedly. I want to feel a sense of bondage in every sense of the word. I think I process bondage as being safe, secure, stress free and sensual. It's the happy place in my mind.

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.