Regrets. Regrets? No.

Short-term pain, long term gain.  Short-term gain, long term pain.  Short-term thinking, long term effects.  Short-term effects, long term consequences.  Decision-making always exposes a person to the possibility of regret.  Is it the right decision?  Is it going to hurt later?  Even if it hurts later, is it worthwhile now?

If it is not worthwhile now, how do I know it will not be worthwhile later?  Will it be too late to make a decision later?  If it is too late to make a decision later, will it hurt more later than it does now?

I have made decisions, in my life.  The most interesting decisions are always relationship-decisions.  To be (His) or not to be (His), this is always the question -- not just for me, but for those submissive personalities who yearn to be partnered with a good (male, in this case) dominant. There are complicating factors in these decisions:  and usually it involves a third person.  An absent third person, or a present third person, or a third person who (for one reason or another) is both present and absent at the same time.  (That is possible, in Second Life.)  Or maybe it involves a third person who is entirely attached in the physical realm.  Decision-making is sometimes paralyzing, and especially for someone like me who basically rests her submission on the idea of surrendering decision-making.  But here are two decisions that I would be happy to vouch for, for any submissive reading this.

a) Consideration Collar, yes.  If it's offered, take it.  You both know you like each other, but do you know if you are going to react well to each other over time?  This is a way to get to know the person before making a commitment of vulnerability.  If it's not offered, insist on it.  If it's not acceptable to the other person, there is something wrong, there.

b) Protector, yes.  If it's offered, take it.  (Do not, however, strong-arm anyone into accepting that kind of relationship -- it defeats the purpose.)  Personally, I have been blessed with a handful of outstanding protectors.  Not many.  I didn't think I needed any, of course, until I actually did need one.  Thank you, Sir Tony.  I suppose I don't thank you enough for the good that you did.  Protectors are mentors of a sort; they are wise counsel; they are an ear and a shoulder when necessary; and in the absence of a dominant who can take responsibility for decisions in the relationship, a protector can guide you through decisions that need to be made so that you don't necessarily end up with regrets at the end of that path.  (Two heads are better than one, eh?)  In the case of Sir Tony, not only was he a protector, but he knew how to create a meditative state and get to the source of things.  I keep those memories alive and I'm fortunate to have them: it was a healing time.

A year ago, I was writing about how the best was yet to come.  My journey into real submission had begun in earnest and I was opening legitimately.  I will not insult my own writing, a year ago, by claiming that I have any regrets.  After all, stories never end, and I am a patient person.  My decisions have come from a place of nobility and more care for someone else than for my own self: that means, I think, that I have never made a bad decision, even if it means that I have not indulged as other people indulge.  Integrity is my reward, I suppose.  While not a perfect analog, I recall a passage that flutters around my memory wanting to come out, from Memoirs of a Geisha:

     "Now, nearly forty years later, I sit here looking back on that evening with the Chairman as the moment when all the grieving voices within me fell silent.  Since the day I left Yoroido, I'd done nothing but worry that every turn of life's wheel would bring yet another obstacle into my path; and of course, it was the worrying and the struggle that had always made life so vividly real to me.  When we fight upstream against a rocky undercurrent, every foothold takes on a kind of urgency.

     "But life softened into something much more pleasant after the Chairman became my danna.  I began to feel like a tree whose roots had at last broken into the rich, wet soil deep beneath the surface.  I'd never before had occasion to think of myself as more fortunate than others, and yet now I was.  Though I must say, I lived in that contented state a long while before I was finally able to look back and admit how desolate my life had once been.  I'm sure I could never have told my story otherwise; I don't think any of us can speak frankly about pain until we are no longer enduring it."

The Dictionary, Page Eight

Service is the word for today.  A dominant commits to a submissive; and a submissive submits service to the dominant.  The commitment of a dominant is negotiated before the collaring, for years or for months or for as long as it takes to get something you both can live with.  If you've read about Mr Grey and Anastasia in the famous trilogy of highly-contested alternative relationships, you know that it takes a full three novels for the negotiations to complete in Fifty Shades of Grey: this is not something that takes place in a week.  Negotiations take time.  Frankly, in any successful marriage they take the entirety of the couple's lives together.  If my partner ever stops negotiating, in other words, I'll know that we are finished with each other.

What is negotiated?  The service one performs for the other.  The word "service" is a tricky word: the submissive serves the dominant's wishes of course; we look forward to it.  But the dominant also serves the fantasy of the submissive.  The dominant controls a scene so that, from what he has come to learn about his girl, he can create and re-create the right fantasy.  And when not in scene, the dominant serves the greater good of the relationship by learning more, while the submissive serves the greater good of the relationship by opening to new possibilities more.  There is a mutuality of serving in a good relationship between dom and sub.

[This "mutuality" would sound alien to a Gorean master, or to anyone who "owns" the submissive in a 24/7 exchange.  The kinds of relationships where "rights" and "safe words" don't necessarily get discussed.  But those aren't the relationships I concern myself with, here:  here, relationships are mutually beneficial, are mutually rewarding, and are mutually uplifting to a state of higher understanding.  Higher pleasure.  Higher love.  Deeper intimacy.  Harder truths and control over those truths to the safety and benefit of each person.]

There is no service without negotiation.  There is no negotiation without curiosity.  There is no curiosity without love.  These ideas are interconnected and travel together like a group of good friends on an adventure.  They take care of each other.  They make sure nobody loses a wallet or forgets a purse, and they make sure you come home with good pictures.  Good memories.  Just precisely, absolutely what you wanted to remember forever, why you embarked upon the trip to begin with.  I am in love; and I am curious about my love; and I ask how best I may please my love; and I see what I can do; and then my service (whether it be to learn, to speak, to remain silent, or to give space; whether it be to bring food, to bring friends, to bring entertainment, or to bring in the bags from the car) comes naturally.  I have a few ideas of how I may serve.  I also have a sense of when it is phoney and when something else is really in order.  I always ask, though, because I want to get it right and the one I serve is going to tell me the right way in the end.

There are minimum requirements, of course.  There is a good sleep.  There is proper food.  There is proper physical activity contributing to good health.  In the vanilla world, people believe they can function (and they do, to low standards) on poor sleep and a poor diet and too much caffeine and alcohol.  In my reality, though, such is impossible.  In my reality, top-notch service from me comes from top-notch self-care, self-love, and self-discipline.  Good health.  A commitment on my part to always give my best, not my compromised.

To forgive, to absolve, to let go

I'm working on forgiveness.  Like "Jealousy" and like "Shame" it is a very large, very baggy and convoluted idea.  And of course, it involves many people's differing opinions and advice.  When I talk about forgiveness with people, we all seem to have different ideas about what the word really means.  Often people imagine "absolution" or "forgetting" or "letting go" or "re-inventing" or "erasing" when they imagine the process of how they forgive.  But what is it, actually "to forgive"?

The best way for me to look at it is through a Christian lens.  To forgive is to hear a confession of absolute responsibility; to understand without a doubt that the person feels responsible and feels remorse; and then to feel satisfied that the person's sense of responsibility and remorse will prevent any future and similar behaviour.  Forgiveness in that sense takes two people.  The one must confess in a real and meaningful way; and the other must understand that the confession is real.  Which is great if it happens like that.

What if one is required to forgive someone who does not believe he has done anything wrong?  I believe there is no forgiveness in that sense since forgiveness requires two people, but there is the solitary version of it: absolution.  Another Christian term, but applied without any religious fervour.  A person may choose to absolve another human being of any harm he has inflicted, if a person wishes to. That is what Christ does when he offers the other cheek for slapping.  When someone slaps your cheek, offer the other cheek too, he says; don't slap in revenge.  (I'm not really a Christian, thank heavens, so I can slap whoever I want.)

In either case, whether to forgive or to absolve is the tension, the end result is a "letting go," by all accounts.  It is peace.  It is a new level of serenity.  Or, at least, that is my mental picture.  Really, what it means is, if I forgive this person once, I have to keep forgiving this person every day of my life.  Doing it once means I'll definitely have to do it twice, and thrice, ad infinitum.  At least, that is my great fear.

On the other hand, I suppose that it is possible -- it is possible -- that the person in question already self-punishes and self-loathes as a result of past and recent behaviours.  It is possible.  I will never know for sure.  Therefore, it is possible that I do not necessarily need to "keep score" and keep the wound fresh and alive for the rest of my days as an act of "being true to me."  Absolution, private and without fanfare, may be the only solution.  Honestly, the whole situation is simply exhausting... Not like my pretty picture of a dock at sunset and calm water.  My happy, peaceful, forgiving place.  Sometimes I am amazed at how realistic Second Life photography can be.   My second life needs no absolution!  It is such a pretty place!

Topping from the Bottom

"TFB" or Topping from the Bottom is a phenomenon that is as misunderstood as any other part of a dominance and submission relationship, if one is new to the scene and learning from under-informed people.  I read something today, though, that has explained the idea to me brilliantly.  My excellent mentor has given a notecard to me something to read called "A Dominant's Promise" and it is all about D/s communication.  And after reading this notecard, I see very clearly how mature, shameless communication forms the architecture of the ideal dominant and submissive union.  The perfect union is possible; but not without sharing your dreams and needs openly and honestly.

In the mildest form, topping from the bottom (or, when a submissive tries to control a dominant) is a result of improper manners and improper communication.  And, manners are easily corrected.  If the submissive respects the dominant, and if the dominant respects the submissive, the correction will hold. If there is no respect, though, there's a bigger problem to deal with.

In worse forms, topping from the bottom is a deliberate and calculated manipulation of the dominant.   "I will not do that for you, and if you ask me to do it again, I will leave you."  This is something the immature personality declares.  It is the submissive equivalent of the dominant's, "If you don't obey me, you are a terrible submissive."  Topping from the bottom at its worst is just plain old bullying.  The brat who bullies to get her way does not need further indulgence: she is a bad nut and should be thrown in the trash like Veruca Salt.

The best part about this particular notecard, though, is its incredible maturity of thought.  It takes sophistication to understand this concept, and we must never take for granted that everybody CAN understand it, because not everybody has achieved the same level of maturity.  Here is the concept:

Sometimes, for some people, it is a fun fantasy to behave like a brat and to be punished for being a brat.  In fantasy.  Just like, sometimes, for some people, it is a fun fantasy to pretend to be in the Story of O and to be forced into doing things that we wouldn't normally.  In fantasy.  And so in order to accommodate those fantasies, a D/s couple talks about them.  Asks for them honestly, openly, without shame.  Figures out a way to do it so that it can be done, and so that both parties understand the difference between fantasy and reality.  Mature communication can achieve this.  Selfish demands and petulant pouting cannot.  "You should have known," doesn't solve anything.  Nobody is a mind-reader.  Maturity asks for what it wants, clearly and specifically, and then enjoys getting it.  Immaturity rants and froths and foams and, ultimately, fails.

Lovely Blog, Lovely Ponies

If you have not yet read my friend Ara's blog, A slut's storyboard, you are missing out.  Her poetry is well-crafted and powerful.  Well-crafted and powerful enough to teach me a thing or two about this D/s lifestyle, in fact one thing in particular that nobody has yet been able to impart to me.  There is a pony phenomenon that  I have learned about in Second Life especially through the careful administrations of Sir RB upon his little pony girls (and I am not one such girl, but I have met such girls).  I could not understand the phenomenon.  Even as I read Anne Rice's Beauty trilogy, I still could not understand the nature of the pony-girl phenomenon; the relevance of the pony-girl phenomenon; the desire to be a part of the pony-girl phenomenon.  And there are very explicit and detailed fantasy pages devoted especially to this kink!  Anne Rice does not disappoint, if you are into that sort of thing.  But, for me... not to judge it, not to disparage it, and especially not to negate its validity, I simply could not empathize with that particular urge or appetite, and I was convinced I would never be able to.  (Sympathize, yes I can -- there are many kinks in the world, and the world takes all kinds of people to make it go around... Nobody's safe, sane and consensual kink is a freak-show, in my opinion. But empathize, I simply could not.  I just did not understand the impetus to prance.)

Until I read Ara's post! 

I get it now.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's discipline.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's fitness.  It is simply another way to demonstrate one's showmanship.  To display.  To perform.  To sweat in the service of someone in a private language shared only between you both.  It is an immediate transformation into the dreamscape of fantasy and the concretized need of the submissive to serve, and to serve with many body parts all at once.  There are many points of access now, as I consider it.  I do not wish to experiment, personally; however I do understand that, as a submissive, I share very VERY similar urges and appetites which I demonstrate in different areas of display.  We are not so very different in your kinks and mine, you pretty ponies of the world, only in our display of them.

I mention Ara's blog because, bless her, she nominated me for a "Lovely Blog" award.  There are rules to follow for this and I am afraid I do not have the ability to follow them at the moment.  I have wanted for a few days to recognize the nomination, though, and to link back to Ara's gorgeous and perfectly poetic blog.

Re-mystifying Submission

I experienced something today that drove the point home entirely:  submission is in the mind.  It sounds phoney and insubstantial: but submission is in the mind.  I met a man and we traded a brief private conversation in the middle of a public gathering, and it was enlightening in ways I don't get to feel every day.  He wasn't trying to teach me anything either.  All he did was present me with a conundrum upon which to meditate.   I didn't even particularly understand the conundrum, to be honest.  I felt slightly foolish.  (Hooray for the hanged fool of the tarot!  Once again, I honour thee!)  I understood the picture that came with the conundrum... a bound woman, blindfolded, readied.  I understood the words of the conundrum: imagine a man who knows what to do with such a woman, and who will be unpredictable, and who will be in control, and who (being her dominant) has already established her safety and his sanity.  He's got into my mind and he's making me do things!  The fun isn't lost on me.

"To steepen the learning curve," he said to me, I would have to consider these things.  To consider theoretically, to imagine the conditions, to picture in my mind.  I'm sure all he wanted was for me to acclimatize myself to the possibility of "him", as it were.  It's a nice line.  It's a fun and romantic twist on the meeting of someone new.  "How about it, baby, you and me on a beach far away... picture the possibilities!"  A man could do worse for an opening gambit, especially if he's willing and able to deliver on the temptation.  But nevermind all that:  I have learned something extraordinary.  All of my imagining, all of my steepening, all of my considering, and all of my picturing have fulfilled in one afternoon what legions of men have been unable to accomplish in months of knowing me.  I have chastely, intelligently, experimentally experienced a perfect idea of submission -- a Platonically perfect idea of submission -- in my own mind.  The conundrum:  "How do I make this real?"  And the simple solution:  "It already is."

Self-Esteem from Achievement

It's tricky separating self-esteem from approval-seeking, but I'm working on it.  I know that one difference consists of the motivation through which I do things.  I have a gallery of my photography on display right now at the Journey sim, the opening for which taking place on Tuesday June 12.  My mentor said to put it out, and so I did.  The main feature is the artwork depicting my mentor's submission: there is a picture in that collection that makes me tremendously proud for having achieved it.  Art for art's sake, is the point there: I didn't do it for anybody else, this one particular picture.  I just let my mind and skill loose on the artwork to see what would happen; experimenting and teasing out the final result.  I did it for me.  So often I catch myself thinking, "so and so will enjoy this when it's finished..." or "such and such a group will get a kick out of this..." and I think those are the nascent thoughts of approval-seeking to a certain degree.  Only to a certain degree.  But when I am occupied in deep concentration, working at a particular piece, and I say to myself, "good job" then I know that it is my own achievement, and my own self-esteem talking.  And then, when so and so ALSO happens to say "good job," my self-esteem sky-rockets.  It is not approval that I sought.  It was spontaneous praise, and I feel like a million bucks.

If I were mentoring other submissives in the world, I would say to them, "Have something that you strive to do exceptionally well, regardless of how well you do it at the moment....  Strive for something big."  I would suggest they have a passion, something character-defining, something that builds self-esteem that is hard, real, tangible and evident.  Something that allows for measurable progress.  (The photographs at the beginning of my journey are measurably inferior to the ones today, which themselves are measurably inferior to the photographs of the future.)  Something that a future owner or Master or Dom (or equivalent) can look at and examine to know parts of her that aren't otherwise visible.  Something about which to say, "Here are ways that you are different; here are ways that you excel; here are ways that you improve; here are ways that you shine."   I would say, "Stretch.  Flex.  Do something that will make yourself proud first.  Then, when someone else says, afterwards, 'Great work,' you can believe in the praise, and you have already felt it, and you can look into so and so's eyes and say proudly, 'Thank you, Sir' and feel like a million bucks, which is in one way connected to your submission and in another way connected to your soul-core."  No matter how good you are now, or no matter how much you suck at it, practice makes better and better and better.  Better and better self-esteem, that is.

Self-Esteem from Self-Control

Why spend so much time exploring self-esteem?  I wish the answer to that question were not so obvious in my own experiences with people.  Anyway, the more I read about "The Master's Viewpoint" by Dennis Najee, the more I realize how much really depends upon self-esteem.  A healthy relationship depends upon it.  A healthy self-image depends upon it.  A healthy outlook on life depends upon it.  Personal expectations of how people treat us in the world depend upon it.  And, of course, relevant to the D/s community, a healthy experience at play or in communication depends upon it.  "No man is in a position of dominance if he cannot control himself," says Mr. Najee, and with that I wholly agree.  And, by controlling himself, it means what he eats; how much he eats; what he does for exercise; how much he exercises; whether he is in control over his emotions during periods of stress; whether he is in touch with his emotions during periods of affection; whether he abuses narcotics; whether he over-indulges in intoxicants; and whether he thinks that it is safe to interact with other people when he is drunk with control-sapping stimulants.  "Lack of control on the part of the dominant is a sign of weakness."   I have trusted people, inching as I did towards more and more control surrendered to them, only to have them lose control entirely one way or another.  They stopped listening to me, to the word "no".  They stopped speaking sanely.  They stopped being trustworthy.  When someone I trust loses personal control, I no longer trust.  Is a submissive supposed to negotiate in good faith with that person?  A submissive who, in good faith, does take care of her mind and body; who does make sure she adheres to codes of respect for her own body as well as the bodies of others; whose mindset is about bringing beauty, not fear.  Christian Grey, in Fifty Shades of Grey, has it right:  he has dominated his life so that things are under control.  His finances are healthy; his food is healthy; his exercise is healthy; he drinks wine from time to time; he even strives for healthier energy sources globally, that's how healthy he wants things to be.  He strives.  (Love the book or hate the book, Christian's outward character is formidable, and it is one viable basis upon which to grow a relationship.)

When one masters self-control, one feels pretty good about oneself.  Self-mastery  turns us into worthy partners in play; worthy partners in fantasy; worthy partners in exploration and mutual gratification.  It means I can trust the man You say You are.  It means I can feel good about surrendering control.  (And otherwise it ain't happening.)  It means Joe Dominant's domination is effective, not hypocritical and weak.  It means Cutie Submissive's submission is real, not a nymphomaniacal collar-hop perpetually seeking the honey-moon.  Words I will adhere to as I have done throughout this whole learning process:  "The BDSM lifestyle," writes Mr. Najee,  "is one where you are free to choose what you desire.  All avenues are open to you.  The key is to make the proper choices for what fits your needs.  Implant the image of what you want in your head and work towards bringing it into reality.  There is no reason why you cannot do this.  However, before focusing outward, take a look at yourself."

Punishment

A few months ago (it feels like a lifetime ago) I listened to an excellent Dominant expound on his feelings about discipline and punishment.  They are separate issues, to discipline and to punish.  Very often, a dom does not feel good about punishment, and yet he may easily perform almost the very same activity on his submissive in discipline and feel terrific about it.  (I beg my three readers to forgive my use of the default "Him" when referencing a Dominant, here.  I have a man in mind when I recall this moment.)  I would imagine the sentiment is simliar from a submissive's perspective -- or at least, I can imagine it would be the same for me.  To be spanked in punishment would feel differently, to me, than to be spanked for disciplining /  training / conditioning / pleasure.  Not 100% different, but different enough to derive less pleasure from the act.  I haven't given much thought to punishment since that moment when I listened to Sir Dwight talk about it.  I'm generally a person who neither seeks nor welcomes punishment because, frankly, I don't deserve it or ask for it.  I do not believe the mistakes that I have made, so far, merit punishing as much as they might merit correction, and by all means I welcome correction as I hope anybody would if there is unintentional inaccuracy or inconsistency.  (Protected Precious's sweet ass is not perfect!)  But it's come up a few times, now, today.  And I will defend punishment for one very good reason that I can think of, besides what Sir Dwight had said earlier.

At the D/s Academy in Second Life (which my mentor is a part of, incidentally) there is a notecard entitled LOG 201 sub's resp. - D/s academy LECTURE, back from 2010.  In it, the note details a very detailed lecture about the submissive's responsibilities.  And one of those responsibilities -- and this resonates with me big time -- is to know yourself so well that you know what it is in this life that brings pleasure and what it is that you would consider punishment.  The first is often easier than the second.  To know oneself so well that one can understand what would be considered punishment is a very powerful knowledge.  And to tell one's dom or Master that information renders one vulnerable as hell.  That is how one feels vulnerable:  to admit one's weakness before another.  Weakness in pleasure and weakness in punishment: a dom needs to know both, of course.  In my opinion, a submissive who does not share with her dom these two very important character traits of hers has not submitted.

One reason I believe in this so strongly is because there will inevitably come a time when a submissive makes a terrible mistake; a costly mistake, a mistake that causes undue pain.  And, to think the good of everyone first, such a mistake would certainly be accidental rather than deliberate.  When the full force of the mistake, and all of its effects, come home to the submissive and she finally begins to feel the dread, there is nothing she can do (perhaps) to make amends.  There is nothing she can do to "undo" that mistake.  That is a horrifying feeling to me, not being able to repair something.  So how does one forgive?  How does one get past it and move into the future together?  Punishment, genuine and true.  That which the submissive knows to be punishment -- not pleasure, not disguise, not half-heartedly meted out.  Punishment, I do believe, should be reserved for such instances: when nothing else will do.  When the forgiveness is too hard to come by, otherwise.  Because punishment is cleansing.  After enduring the sentence, the cleansing is complete.  Meting out the punishment is cleansing; and receiving the punishment is cleansing.  It is as symbolic as any other practice within the lifestyle, and it should not be abused or misunderstood.  (But what, pray, happens when the dom is at fault and finds it impossible to forgive himself?  Ooh.)

Taming Desire

"Unrealistic expectations and desires," says Miss Steele in her Fantasy vs Reality article, "are some of the most difficult challenges faced by those in the lifestyle."   Fantasy is not sustainable 24 hours a day: as she quite rightly puts it, somebody has to do the grocery shopping, clean the floors, launder the clothes for the week, etc.  I tried explaining this to somebody, once, who spent a considerable amount of time trying to convince me that once I experienced him I would never want anything else.  (Alas, and obviously, he is not "The One" for me.)  Fantasy is not sustainable 24 hours a day.  It's exhausting.  I need (and love!) my vanilla living as a solid foundation around which my alternative fantasies can open and close.  I started thinking about this as a result of a discussion I attended last night on the longevity of Second Life relationships and whether D/s relationships had any better (or worse?) chance of surviving in-world.  The discussion yielded so many different comments that could, if properly analyzed, be traced back to unrealistic expectations and unbridled desire.  (There were other kinds of comments too, some remarkable in their maturity and many that I keep with me to learn from, in stages.  It was a good talk.)

Especially resonant with me at the moment is the phrase "unrealistic expectations and desires".  Desire, by its very nature, is without reason: it is a want -- a lack -- that makes itself feel like a need.  Desire exists: desire fuels and enflames.  We know this much.  We can't blame desire for being what it is.  Rather than blame desire, I think the onus is on expectation.   Unreasonable expectations is, quite simply, where some people go wrong.  The expectation that desire will be quenched perfectly, in every way, from every angle, at any cost, by a total stranger.  The expectation that people will mind-read, soul-read, spirit-read at first or second meeting.  The expectation that, regardless of time invested or personal compatibility or personal suitability, he or she whom you desire will not only desire you equally but will fulfill you (and all your sweet, bizarre kinks that you travel with and that make you you in your bizarre and kinky way) immediately and without hesitation.  Before the week is out.  And make a sandwich after.

I met a man who said to me that if I will not be intimate with him, he'll be very upset if I am intimate with others.  (His lifelong commitment to pain is touching.  I smile with mischief as he reads this.)  I met a man who believed that, since I claim to be a student of the D/s lifestyle, my body ought to be made available to him magically and automatically.  (We did, actually, set the record straight on that one, no fear.)  I met a man who plays his own submissive (by using the magic of Second Life).  I met a man who wanted to talk with me only to show me how funny he is when he talks to other people.  I meet people who yearn for applause; who yearn for attention; who make funny faces with the alphabet and who sacrifice incredible things in order to feel a moment of gratification (and who try desperately to extend that moment, pulling at the thread, reliving and revisioning and recreating one single moment repeated, because there was only ever that one single moment).   I meet people every day led by desire -- not just feeling the desire but actually governed by desire, shoved down the merry path by desire, hoodwinked and persuaded by desire, believing so strongly in their desire and the desperation for someone else to meet that desire, the be-all-and-end-all condition to endure at all times.  And the appetite... and the need... and the wanting... and the impatience... and the inevitable meltdown... they follow as darkness follows the day.  They travel together.  And it is no wonder that there is a sizeable, jaded community of "exes" in the world.  But, like a beacon of light through a misty night,  Maj made the following comment last night during the discussion:   "You have to put time and effort into it to make the relationship work.  There is no magic to it, and it's not easy.  It just matters how much you want it."   A relationship is a journey based on managed-expectation and not on unbridled-desire.  Maj and Simona are, of course, in a long-term relationship, and it shows.

The reason I practice my disciplines -- the reason I think about things like discipline of the mind, discipline of the spirit -- is because I train my desire.  This is the way I see clearly.  This is the way I feel comfortable alone (and not lonely) until such time as You see fit to claim me.  I wander happily in the light, and I know You will take me into the darkness where I desire to feel You overpower me... when it is time.  And not before.  Waiting is not a chore.  I know that bewilders some people, but I cannot please'em all.

Discipline - The Aspiration

Our destiny is frequently met by taking the very paths we have chosen to avoid it.  Sayuri's "destiny" in Memoirs of a Geisha comes up against her aspirations in nearly every chapter.  It is difficult to determine whether the happy ending to the novel is due to her destiny or due to her single-minded, purely-focused aspiration.  If we call it "destiny," she has been a passive passenger on a pre-ordained journey, and there has been no point whatsoever to her mental conditioning and emotional tribulations.  If we call it "aspiration," she has taken charge of her fate and brought about exactly that which she had set out to do on the day she changed her living.  From the moment of her prayer to the gods, she directed her mind, body, and spirit towards the one man she knew in whom kindness came easily.  The discipline of her aspiration is expressed here:  "With  my eyes squeezed tightly shut and my hands together, I prayed," she explains.  "I would suffer through any training, bear up under any hardship, for a chance to attract the notice of a man like the Chairman again."  And, every moment thereafter was devoted to this singular vision until, finally, at long last, she realizes her vision.

Sayuri remembers, "For a flicker of a moment I imagined a world completely different from the one I'd always known, a world in which I was treated with fairness, even kindness."  She continues, "And when I raised myself to look at the Chairman, I had a feeling of leaving my misery behind me there on the stone wall."  To get very, very picky here, I notice that she says when I raised myself to look, and that is the key to this sentiment.  That is the definition, as I would understand it, of aspiration.  When I raise myself to look.  When I raise myself to look, I see more, and I see further.  I can change things before they happen.  I am not a passive recipient of destiny's hand (if I do not wish to be); I take an active participation in that which shapes me (if I wish it so).

I do not take it for granted that there is a destiny for me.  I do discipline myself so that I can face the world and all of the choices presented to me.  I do not wait passively:  I wait actively.  Behind my eyes, there are dreams, and there are ladders I craft to reach them.  There are butterflies - the symbolic metamorphosis is the achievement of aspiration.  My geisha name, Choji, a butterfly name; my sole aspiration, to become that which You have always wanted in me.

Discipline - The Spirit

Discipline of the self, what I call personal integrity, comprises the discipline of mind, body, spirit, and aspiration -- or at least, this is how I imagine things.  The spirit is difficult to define, in my imagination, let alone discipline.  I imagine the spirit as something like the latin "anima" (the vital, breathing force within us).  When they say, "That girl has a lot of spirit!" they could be talking about how much energy I have; or, how thoughtful I am about problems to solve; or, how tenacious I am when it comes to getting to the root of something.  These things are not just "natural" but, instead, I think they are disciplined.  I think that how much energy I have, how interested I am in problem-solving, how dedicated I am to finding my way to the root of something to explore, these all require disciplined attitudes.  It is not a matter of intelligence; I do not believe intelligence is at stake here.  It is a matter of curiosity.  In fact, perhaps it can be said that curiosity is the measure of a person's spirit.

Must a person's spirit be disciplined in order to achieve a solid personal integrity?  I can attest to as much; it is so.  The life force is not to be taken for granted.  There are events endured in each lifetime that test a person's spirit.  There are events I must endure in my lifetime that, sometimes, feel stronger than I am, and I am afraid.  There are events I must endure that, sometimes, lower me to sadness.  There are memories; there are anxieties; there are possibilities; there are unknowns.  I know that, in some people, this is the impetus to developing a Dominant personality: they wish to control, and learn to control more and greater circumstances.  I know that, in some others, this is the impetus for seeking a Master: someone who can run interference and shield a submissive soul from the world's unpredictability and chaos.  I do not feel so moved to perform in either of these ways.

Sayuri says, in Memoirs of a Geisha, "But now I know that our world is no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean.  Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper."   This too shall pass, in other words, but more than that.  This too shall linger, though in lesser form and with a far lesser intensity, and shape us.  The pain recedes; just as the joy recedes given sufficient time.  The waves come and go; and life continues.  I do not seek a shield against the world: my submission to You will be as one who seeks Your example, Your shaping, Your furthering of the project of myself that I have begun -- which You already know is also a project of You.  You, like me, are an artist:  You, like me, are complete because I am canvas and You are the forever stain.

Discipline - The Body

"I wanted more than anything," says Sayuri in the novel  Memoirs of a Geisha, "to see the smooth skin of his face once more with its broad brow, and the eyelids like sheaths of marble over his gentle eyes...  I did finally let my eyes flick upward, though I blushed and looked away so quickly that he may never have known I met his gaze.  But how can I describe what I saw in that instant?  He was looking at me as a musician might look at his instrument just before he begins to play, with understanding and mastery.  I felt that he could see into me as though I were a part of him.  How I would have loved to be the instrument he played!"   This quotation is among my very favorites in the book.  It speaks in but a few lines what it takes me pages and pages of this blog to articulate.  It speaks from "my" point of view, the way that I see You (when You come to me, finally, wherever and whoever You are).
I enclose a picture here of some of my preferred musical instruments in Second Life: a lute created by Grey Kurka among the best crafted builds I've yet come across.  There is only one song ("Greensleeves") -- and when I say "only" I say it with the due reverence and awe that there is any music at all emerging from the collection of prims that performs its artistic beauty -- but it's nicely done.  There are other lutes with still more collections of songs in the world, but none that look like this.  And the two hanging shamizen built by Kahiro Watanabe are just a sample of what this music-maker has created in the world of Japanese instruments.  Kahiro's talent is extreme and perfect.  The music soothes exactly the ache that the soul requires when it craves music.

The technical perfection required of an instrument -- nevermind the player of the instrument -- is an expectation that goes without saying.  When I put a flute to my lips, the wind-pipe must be perfect.  The sound that results will be the perfect result of my mastery of the instrument.  My perfect mastery of the flute will not yield pleasing music if the flute, itself, is badly flawed.  Conversely, if the flute is perfectly-crafted and maintained, the sound will be off if the mastery of the instrument is incomplete.  So it is with my body and Your mastering, when You come.  In the novel Memoirs of a Geisha, Sayuri makes a point of saying that the Japanese value imperfection insofar as a hand-thrown cup is of more value (emotionally, meaningfully) than a store-bought, mass-manufactured cup:  there will be slight imperfections to the hand-thrown cup, and those imperfections contain the character of the vessel.  (Imperfections are not flaws: a badly-flawed cup that cannot perform the duties of a cup is of no value.  But a cup whose perfection dips and ripples in interesting ways... that is character.)  Sometimes if the chip or crack is significant enough, it will be filled and healed with gold.  This is how I, too, have been trained to find beauty.
My picture of my Japanese house; stepping stones that I created; water ripples at each post and cherry blossom trees in the distance; lamps suspended from the roof and resting on the platforms.  All the straight lines in the making of this house --  all the perfect straightness -- where does such straight wood come from? The tree that becomes the straight-line beams is curved, rounded, knotted and imperfect.  The man who makes the straight beam is a wood-master.  A carpenter.  An artist.  The mastery of the body, the making of the straight beam, doesn't erase the lines and rings and character of the wood: there will always be the ripple that softens and balances.

Discipline - The Mind

Discipline of the self is something I regard as the combination of mind, body, spirit, and aspirations of the person into a personal completeness called "integrity".    I alluded to the discipline of my "self" in the last post whereby my geisha training comes out of hibernation and I begin to apply it to my learning about D/s relationships.  My already-enjoyable journey into the dark becomes even more enjoyable as a result.  My core self I introduce to my fantasy self, and my personal feelings of "being real" strengthen.

In my mind, I harbor indelible thoughts.  Philosophy that I hold to.  Learnings that I adhere to.  Information that I seek.  Memories that, over time, re-create and re-adjust.  Some memories, though, that fade in colour.  And some that could never change due to the thrust of the original intensity.  This is the makeup of my mind.  The makeup of my mind contributes to my personal integrity; the extent to which I consider myself a person with integrity is the extent to which my discipline of mind maintains an equally-strong link as-and-to the rest of my parts.

That which may compromise me: impatience.  If there is something worth disciplining in my mind, it is impatience.  At a group discussion earlier this week on "Patience" I learned (or, rather, re-discovered) that  "anxiety" feeds on "impatience," and vice versa.  My chronically-anxious disposition may be disciplined by practicing the virtue of patience, in other words.  The body begins the exercise and the mind acclimatises thereafter.  The physical behavior of patience calms the mind to patience.  And patience is a beautiful visual: water flowing over stones, nothing obstructed, nothing blocked.  The physical behaviour of patience is stillness, calm.  Observation.  Meditation.  Reading.  Walking without purpose.  (Being bound... being restrained... feeling cage bars surround me...)   The physical behaviour of patience will bring the mental stillness of patience.

With patience, one can trust more easily.  When You come, I will trust You in ways I will not trust others.

Discipline - The Self

I was asked, recently, "Are you sure what you're looking for is a D/s relationship," given that, apparently, I long for something that sounds unusual, a contrast to the "normal" way of doing things.

"Yes," I assert gently and truly, "of course a D/s relationship is what I'm looking for.  I already know this.  I'm already there, in my mind.  That is fundamental.  That is basic."   I imagine a gardener with a bonsai.  I imagine a man older, wiser, full of humour.  I imagine he shapes, painstakingly (but not every day... only when it is time), as the natural shape of me emerges from his pruning.  When he is not tending the garden, he is enjoying the garden: he lets me give back, whether in silence or in active pleasure.  When he is at liberty.  When it is easy.  And only then.  There is no "pretend" attention; there is attention or there is space.  You, when  You come, will be a wizard and an artist with shibari.  And the iron of Your chain-leash will be strong.  And Your collar that I wear will be thick and obvious, well-made, substantial.  Warm, rounded, well-wrought metal and leather.  Something strong and masculine around my slender neck.

My future Master, without those things, why else would I seek You?  That, to me, is You.  I need You to discipline and shape this part of me.  And because You have already mastered Yourself, You will know how to master me.  You already know how I complete You; and what I will do for You; and how Your garden will become the great prize for the bonsai that, shaped by You, defines the evidence and skill of Your mastery.

While I wait, I discipline myself.  I discipline my mind.  I (re)learn the geisha manners of love and humility, entertaining and specialties in arts.  It occurs to me that there will never be One who wishes to master me who does not enjoy a geisha's beauty (and make no mistake -- a geisha is not for everybody!  Of what use is a woman who serves by talking or playing the shamisen?  Of what use is a woman who serves by delighting the mind and the eyes with light and surprise? A geisha is not for everybody.)  I continue to shape my intellect, curve my responses, sculpt my disciplines.  I do this because it softens the sharpness of my need, so that my patience blossoms.  I do this so that I have something still more to offer You, when You do come.  I already know what You will do to me; and I already love how I will submit to You.

And, that is enough for me: it is as if You are already here.  I enclose myself within this garden, and I admit none who is not You.

Discipline as Shaping

It was an awakening to understand the difference between discipline and punishment.  I have long known they were different words.  I have long understood the connotations of each word.  I had even come to accept the common usage of these words in the D/s lifestyle.

And then, listening to Sir Dwight speak about the Master's perspective of pain in discipline and in punishment, suddenly I realized the difference between the two.

And then suddenly I realized how erotic seems this word, "discipline"... and what a killjoy seems the word "punishment".

Suddenly the demarcation sizzled its boundary.

I resist punishment.  I do not remember the last time I have ever required "punishment."  I resist the word so strongly in terms of my own character that I outright reject it.  "Someone who strives so honestly," I think to myself, "surely must not be deserving of censure or punishment."  Because I do strive; and I do care; and I do persist in my seeking.  I do wish to please; and I do wish to make sure that the pleasure I bring is meaningful and lasting.  My heart, in other words, is the heart of a submissive giver.  I come to realize this more and more with each passing day and each key learning.

On the other hand, do I require shaping?  Of course I do.  Do I require a firm hand to guide me? Absolutely, I do.  Do I long for the experience and expertise of a strong Dominant to shape me and guide me?  Without a doubt in my mind.  (And would I be turned-on-and-lit like a Christmas tree if that shaping and guiding involved careful and inventive discipline?  God... yes, yes, yes.)

Am I certain that the frenzy of submission that I feel right now needs to dial down a notch or two before I commit to anything long-term, lest I get myself embroiled in a situation that I wish I hadn't?  You bet.   Because each time I enjoy a "eureka" moment I do frenzy-up and start fingering my collar.  I can feel my knees weaken and my mouth watering.  I can feel all the unruly, undisciplined parts of me begin the cartwheeling and hooplah that make me feel so "out of control".

The irony is, I know I am quite capable of reining in my own bridle.  I know that I am composed, integral.  But what I ache for... what I wish for... what this whole thing is about, really, is to have someone who knows me (me...) well enough that he can do it for me, sometimes.   With elan.