I Have Just One Question

Nightswimming

OK - for no reason at all other than several of you have been sharing songs or talking about sharing songs recently. And because Master likes the song and will sing along, every word, whenever we hear it. And because the music is what makes this song, the words are secondary even as they are beautifully illustrated through the poignant longing quality of the music.

I share "Nightswimming" by R.E.M.




Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it's so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water's edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I'm not sure all these people understand.
It's not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
replaced by everyday.

Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September's coming soon.
I'm pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
could not describe nightswimming.

You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
this one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.

The photograph reflects,
every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.

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Everything is fine, accept and relax.

I have struggled at times against the relaxed nature of Master's ownership of me. Finding myself all twisted up in my mind about my longing for Him to be stronger and more assertive and more controlling. And oh how my mind would circle around and round, twisting it's metaphoric panties into a wad. Always coming back to acceptance of how things are, and the reality that W/we are creating a life together, and life is not always perfect, nor a bed of roses, nor champagne and caviar. In real life there are struggles. So in the end, my mind calms down, and the twisted-ness relaxes a bit. Until the next time my brain goes haywire.

I recently had a revelation though. For some reason my brain, by it's own little self, finally figured out that Master is very much in control, and doing things as He sees fit. He doesn't do things as I wish, but then again the little voice in my head said "Duh! Isn't that the point?" Perhaps instead of telling me to perform a task he asks me if I would, and perhaps that doesn't fit my limited idea of how Master should issue commands to me. Yet, I finally understood deep inside that it is His right to ask me rather than tell me. It really doesn't matter - the task is still expected to be done. It really isn't my place to have expectations at all.

I really felt quite stupid when my head finally wrapped itself around this notion. Maybe it's easier to feel my ownership when I'm being told rather than asked. But it isn't my place to determine how Master exerts His ownership.

I suspect my journey in regard to labels and semantics and stereo-types over the past few months has led to this revelation. I'm certainly grateful. And my twisted little brain may still falter and forget, but if I can just keep one thought in mind to guide me even when I'm feeling foggy I think it has to be that "Everything is fine, accept and relax."

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Celebrate Spring!

Whether you celebrate the change of seasons and new growth that Spring time gives us, or observe traditions in your spiritual traditions, I hope you have a blessed and rejuvenating weekend filled with hope and love and peace.

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What's In A Word?

Recently my girl friend, her Dominant partner, my Master, and myself were having a discussion. My girl friend does not consider herself to be a masochist. I was just a little surprised, since I know she is very similar to me in this way. Her take on the matter is that since she doesn't seek pain for the sake of the pain alone, and since she doesn't give physical pain to herself, that she isn't a masochist.

Hmmm. I've never considered that a masochist operated alone, for me the understanding was that a masochist needed a sadist to complete the picture. But sure, I guess there are plenty of folks out there who enjoy hurting themselves, but is that a requirement of the term? If it is then no, I don't fit there either. I don't hurt myself. (Master says that's His job!) lol

And no, I don't like pain for the pain alone, for the sake of the pain. I like pain for the end result. The passage into the happy floaty place, and the sexual gratification too. Pain is something that in the correct circumstance I process as pleasure. Now if I stub my toe into the door while walking, that is not the correct circumstance, and it hurts in a bad way, and I generally will scream bloody murder (or at least some other profanities that good girls don't know.) ;) But in the context of play between Master and me pain isn't pain anymore. My mind feels the pain differently.

So really, my girl friend and I are very similar, but we call it by different terms. The dictionary states that a masochist is one who is given to masochism. OK fine, then what is masochism?

–noun

1. Psychiatry. The condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.

2. gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, esp. the tendency to seek this form of gratification.

3. the act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.

4. the tendency to find pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc.

Origin: 1890–95; named after L. von Sacher-Masoch, who described it;


So do I have to fit all the definitions of the word? I don't think so. And does it really matter? Nope. Girl friend and I enjoy much the same activities for the same purpose, and we call ourselves 2 different things. And that's very good.

On a happy little side note W/we enjoyed a fabulous evening with them both and were treated to a delectable meal, prepared by their hands. What a blessing and joy to have friends we can be ourselves with.

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Spatial Perception

I suspect I am visually impaired, particularly when it comes to spatial relations. This afternoon as W/we were getting into the car I asked Master to back up about 12 inches. He backed up a smidgen and I said, "A little more."

He said, "That was 12 inches."

I said, "No it wasn't."

So He backed up until I said "OK". At which time He commented, "That was closer to 24 inches."

I continued to disagree, whereupon He said, "Perhaps I should have you measure my dick now, it's bound to be at least 18 inches."

I should know better than to argue with a mathematician.

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