I Don't Care How You Do This Thing We Do

Disclaimer duly posted

 Really, I don't care how you do what you do. I could give a shit less. If I don't like it, I just walk away because it's none of my damn business. That's the beauty of the internet.

I don't think there's anything wrong with ttwd being a game, or something that you are really serious about on the weekends, or if you live on a chain, or if you sub one day and Dom the next. I don't care if you call yourself a submissive, a slave, a Dominant, a Master, the queen of Sheba, or a friggin teddy bear.

In short, I don't care how anyone else does power exchange. I don't think that I'm better or worse than anyone else, and I don't feel that it is important how anyone else views our power exchange. I could care less where you stand on this crazy road.

The only time you are likely to see my feathers ruffle about how anyone else does ttwd, is when I feel that someone is portraying themselves and their relationship as something they are not, or walking around acting like they have all the answers and are God's gift to us lowly struggling subs who are willing to admit that, dammit, this shit isn't always easy.

Okay, so my feathers will also ruffle if I feel that I have made a reasonable effort to have a polite discussion of thoughts, and someone gets their panties in a twist and has a go at me.What can I say, I'm only human.

Sounds about right

 But I digress...

Top, bottom, submissive, slave, Dominant, Master, fucking furby, whatever--you do what you do. If I don't like it, chances are no one will ever know because I will browse on by. It's not my life, and it has not a damn thing to do with me.

This blog is about how I live power exchange, not about how I think others should experience ttwd. I write from my perspective about my struggles, triumphs, failures, growth, internal musings, and how I'm pretty sure I broke my damn toe on a chair this morning.

Blogland is not a judgement free zone. Sure, we like to think that we are reasonably accepting and everyone has their own way of doing things, but lets be honest--this is a public forum, and you are going to make judgments about me, just as I am going to make judgements about those I read.
The difference comes in what we do with those judgements, and for the most part we keep them politely to ourselves if they are uncomplimentary. That does not mean that all blogs reside at the end of the rainbow covered comfortably in unicorn pelts.

Some people are going to come on as "More submissive than thou", others will take the approach that you're in too deep, and the relationship isn't healthy.
I try to ask myself though, "Does that person's opinion really matter?" And you know what, nine times out of ten, it doesn't.

What you see is an image from someone's mind, typed out into the public domain and frozen in time. Each "scene" you read is just that--a scene. Perhaps it was beautiful and breathtaking, or perhaps it was disturbing and uncomfortable. But we only know what we read, we only see what we are shown.
I was thinking about this after my last shower post--you got the hot and heavy main story, which was a wonderful experience for me.
Before that scene I was cranky and unwilling. After the scene and the sex and the endorphin crash, I curled up on the bed in the kind of agony that comes when your body isn't working how it should, and cried.
That's the whole picture, not just the image I wrote for you.

Yes, chances are that I will judge you in some form or fashion, but you will judge me too, and I like to think that those judgements will usually be kind.
We can only judge what we are shown though. And when it comes right down to it? I don't care how you do ttwd. I care that I am what he wants me to be.
What matters to me is how I live ttwd.
And that I'm fairly certain I did break my toe on that damn chair this morning. Yep, that matters.

Batshitcrazy

You know how sometimes you're afraid that you will go off the deep end, and then one day you do something so stupid and out of character that you just know you've finally gone and done it, then your reaction just solidifies the knowledge that you are bound for batshitcrazy and there's no hope?

Oh...You don't?

Well bear with me, I'll give you a peek.

Kiddos tournament was in the city (poor guys, they had a rough go this time), and we were due for a food shopping, so it made sense for me to go shopping at the same time.
Different stores, same chains, bigger city that I didn't want to drive in, but still--everything we needed was available there.

We go down to the city once a month for a food shopping. I do the list, I make the food decisions, I keep the tally of money spent, I stick to the budget, and I always get enough of what we need to last until the next shopping.

I'm sure you can guess what the most important item on my list is: Coffee.
I buy an average of 5 pounds a month, and yes, we drink it all.

I fucking forgot to buy coffee.

When I realized this on the highway somewhere between 100 miles from said coffee and 80 miles from home, I knew that was it--I really am destined to dementia.

My reaction only solidified my certain ticket to Batshitcrazyville:
I cried.
Not just because it royally sucks to have to buy coffee that is twice as expensive and half as good for a month, or because I have to make a trip to town just for coffee, but because I forgot it.

I forget crackers, or yoghurt, or cookies, or tortillas. I do not forget the single item that we both consume several times a day. I do not ever ever forget something as important as coffee.

I have a prepaid ticket to Batshitcrazyville. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to think I'll use it. Me, I'm pretty sure that I'm already on the train...

That Fucking Sucks

This has been one of those weeks that just keeps on giving and seems quite intent on lasting well into next weekend.

There's a big tournament tomorrow, and we have to leave at 4:30 A.M

I saw the chiropractor yesterday, which was awesome, but my head hurts worse than it has in a very long time....They have been reoccurring for so long, when they're this bad, I always have that (I hope) irrational fear that this is going to be the time when the pain never stops.

Really though...The dog didn't make it. 
I've never worked on an injured animal to the extent that I did her, and I've never lost one like that either. Until her.
And you know what? That really, really just fucking sucks.
She was a ten year old stubborn, stubborn, fat pit bull that loved all people to an almost disgusting extent.
She was a good girl, and she's gone.
Did I mention that really really sucks?

I have to get up in a few hours, so I should probably forgo further whining for the comforts of sleep.

In retrospect, I can probably put a humorous spin on tomorrow, and possibly even the pain in my skull, provided it stops. But I think I need a day or two to work up to it.

Into the Darkness

To varying degrees, we all like to play in the dark. Sure, we love our sunshine, and we often pretend that the darkness has no appeal, but that is merely a facade we create because we are often a bit afraid of the dark.

There is peace in darkness.
There is quiet.
There is curiosity about what we cannot see.
And there is a little bit of fear because we can't be totally sure what's in the darkness.

But that fear doesn't matter. Because we wouldn't be descending into the darkness without a guiding hand.

We all know that there are things in the darkness. They might be lovely, they might be terrifying, they might be a thrill ride like you have never ridden before, they might be all of the above and then some. But one can never be totally sure...

It's that age old truth of there being no light without darkness, no understanding of joy without sadness, no appreciation of pleasure without experience of pain...

It is always, always coldest and darkest before the dawn. But if one is brave and wishes to play...There is no joy like that found in the darkness just before daybreak, in the silence of one's own heart, in the quiet whispers of the soul as it bravely takes a step into the unknown...

Submission is saying, "I will follow you into the darkness". Surrender is taking that first step without sight, that first leap into the unknown. Surrender is walking into the darkness knowing that it, and it alone, leads to a glorious new dawn...And all you have to do is follow wherever he chooses to take you.

As the light begins to peek over a cold and snow covered horizon, accompanied by the sound of a softly crackling fire, I can appreciate the darkness as a place of discoveries, as a place of quiet, of harsh cold and heartening warmth...As a place to retreat to when the well-lit world outside becomes a seemingly unbearable load.

Darkness is where we hide our deepest desires, the secrets of our soul that we think no one knows.
Darkness is where we lick our wounds and trace our scars with weary fingers.
Darkness is where we hide our dreams, our sins, our tired hearts.
Darkness is where one must become blind in order to truly understand what the eyes have seen.
Darkness is where one can be what eyes alone could never truly see.

Oh yes, there undoubtedly are things in the darkness. Some of which can lead to discoveries far beyond anything we could ever see while blinded by the light.

Pride and Humility

I have been pondering the concept of humility for a while now, and I think that it is essential and integral to submission. That might sound a bit odd, given that blogging seems to be somewhat of an inherently narcissistic activity, but I digress. As usual...

Humility is a concept found in religions across the world, ranging from Catholicism to Buddhism. As such, interpretations vary.
From my perspective, humility is a state of being. Something which perhaps transcends the ideology of religion and comes to rest at the feet of spirituality. Without it there is no true surrender, no trust, no acquiescence.

To truly hand over the reins and trust him to lead the way is an act of humility--without it we cannot let go of our attachment to our own decision making, we cannot really accept that another is as good as, if not better than we are, at directing our lives.

Humility is letting go of self enough to revel in the pleasure of another.
Humility does not want, nor is it overly concerned with self.
Humility does not not struggle for control.
Humility makes room for the will of another.

To submit is an act of humility.
To be a slave is to humble oneself at the feet of their Master.
Surrender is having the humility to let go of the importance of being right.

Now pride on the other hand, pride is a far cry from humility isn't it? I know it ranks pretty high up there on the list of seven deadly sins, but so does lust, and I'm currently trying to cultivate a bit more lust in my life. So no worries there.

Pride is a tricky beast. On the surface, it interferes with humility, and contributes to arrogance. Pride really is often present before the fall, and there's nothing quite like an overabundant ego to ruffle feathers.

Pride says that it's too good for humility because pride knows best.
Pride inhibits growth by refusing to admit fault.
Pride is never wrong because pride knows best.
Pride makes the same mistakes over and over again because perfection needs no evolution.

Yet...Pride is not always a negative concept. It's kind of like love, in that it takes on many varied forms.

If one takes no pride in a job well done, then why bother?
If one cannot be proud to serve on their knees, how can one bear to stay there?
If one takes no pride in the one they submit to, how then does one yield to that person?

Pride allows us to reach for our full potential.
Pride motivates us to submit with grace.
Pride in our owners gives us the faith to surrender all that we are.

Pride and humility work best hand in hand.
It is pride and humility which give the phrase "Good girl" its appeal.
It is pride and humility which allow for the seeming contradiction of queen and slave.
It is pride and humility together, which  give us the confidence to submit and the acceptance of its necessity.
It is pride, hand in hand with humility, which allows us to seek our full potential in slavery.

Pride without humility becomes hubris. Humility without pride sees no reason to reach for one's full potential.

Yet together, pride and humility are a dance of antonyms, much like Dominance and submission.

Missing Pages

I'm feeling a bit less whiny today. Something about being nice and warm and my terrible weakness for a man with a chainsaw, I suppose...

If you've been reading here for more than a few days, you know that I have issues sticking to just one background, or even maintaining a certain subject matter. It's no secret that I would rearrange the furniture all the time if it wasn't against the rules.
As usual, I'm getting sidetracked.

For some time, there were several pages at the top of the blog. They were part of the things that are really never changed.
I had a not so little identity crisis surrounding this whole submission thing, and really put some thought into the whole concept of being, "Fraud or flawed" (an interesting and thought provoking term that I cannot take credit for).
So down came the page titled Submission, because I never really meant to give anyone the impression that I thought I knew what I was talking about, and maybe I changed my mind about what submission was because I never knew what I was talking about to begin with. Then down came the page about Dominance because it didn't really say anything since I couldn't make up my mind what to write.
The About Me and Our Story pages...In all honesty, I get more traffic than the one person I have always  imagined would be my only reader, and I felt that perhaps there was too much of our/my story in one easy read.

After our fight, I was 90% certain that the answer to my question of identity was fraud. Then we had some serious conversations, and he made me see how much I was really just holding us back from deeper explorations by being so tripped up on the basics.
It's one thing to say "I'm ready for more" it's another thing entirely to be required to prove it. And in that process of proving, I realized that I wasn't, yet I became so.
Reading that sentence, it sounds so innocuous...Yet, for me, it isn't--it seems like it should be printed across the sky in bright neon caps. Even if it doesn't seem to make sense...

In that process, my definitions and the labels that I apply to myself and my relationship began solidifying in a direction that I have known we were headed for some time.
Does it really matter whether I define myself as submissive or slave? Whether I define the parameters of our relationship as being Master and slave, or Dominant and submissive? In the grand scheme of things, probably not. They are merely places on the road in the journey of infinite possibility that is power exchange.

Yet...It does matter, because how I define us impacts my behavior and the way I view our relationship. If I think of myself as submissive, I also apply forms of thought that are not acceptable with the scope of a Master/slave oriented power exchange.
Looking back, while I would vehemently deny it and truly believe my own denials, there have been so many times in the past where I approached ttwd as a game. And it's one of the only things that really pisses him off. Because this is the way we live, not something we toy with and put away when it suits me us.

He pointed out that it was impossible for us to move forward while I was still struggling with the basics. As much as his statement made me cringe, I have to admit that he has been true to his word--when I quit wallowing in the shallow end, things began changing rather drastically for the better.

Some of the missing pages will not return. Others will. My definitions and the way we live D/s are evolving, and so must they.

Life Happens...

First and foremost, don't forget that the annual Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza is coming up on the fifth, and if you want to participate, you need to send Jz your recipe and blog URL by tomorrow!

Now onto my moaning...And not the attractive kind, lol.

I'm so sick and tired of wood...I'm not talking about the fun kind either.
I despise being cold, really no one wants to live in an icebox all winter, right? But the kids have been kinda sick, my headaches are back, I just spent two days working the splitter, and for the first time in 2 1/2 years, I'll have gone 6 weeks without a chiropractic appointment. My body hates me.

I was less than thrilled to get up this morning and hear that we're going out to get more wood. Of course, I shouldn't complain--he had to chop half of a cord by hand yesterday just to be able to unload the wood he brought her, because my mom's...Lets go with incompetent, shall we?
And nobody wants to freeze to death and die (never let it be said that I avoided a perfectly good opportunity to be dramatic).

We stumbled in last night, I was doing my usual hold-the-girl hybrid-at-the-gate-so-she-doesn't-run-off, when I realized that her neck was covered in blood. For the most part, the animals get along, but historically, there have been some pretty bad fights. They're fairly big, so if they do fight, it's not pretty. When this particular one is covered in blood, it's hardly ever actually hers.

Yea, it wasn't her blood...I spent my evening patching up the pit bull. Say what you will about the breed, but they get a bad rap--not many animals will let you scrub out and bandage wounds, after chopping off dangling skin... I have patched up some pretty bad wounds, but this time was in the running with the worst of them...Not the way I had planned on rounding out my day.
And to think, I made a conscious choice not to become a veterinarian...Still, it's preferable to patching up people in the living room--animals complain far less.

I know I have comments, and I will get to them soon...But I have to make ointment for the dog...Before my darling husband drags me back out into the woods with a chainsaw. Like how exciting I made that sound?