The Dictionary, Page Eleven

Rendering is the word that begins the new year.  A joyous 2013 requires a joyous space for contemplation and so I have renovated the contemplation space.  It gets me in the mind-set required for "rendering."  What does that word mean?  It has several meanings, depending on the artistic or engineering or food-manufacturing contexts.

To render is to shade and texture something until it becomes the most "itself" it can possibly be.  It could mean the preserving of slight, tiny details that may otherwise be lost in production, thereby making "itself" the most "itself" it can possibly be.  It could also mean separating the "itself" from the layers of indigestible fat, red herring, white noise, grey smoke, invisible demons, and black thoughts that detract "itself" from its real self.

The relevance, then, to my ongoing journey:  it's a sidewinder, so I will try to clarify this for myself and any others who may someday find it interesting.  In a discussion about "pushing someone's limits" I thought very carefully about all the time during my D/s journey that I have spent trying to defend my personal limits against people who insist on pushing them instead of respecting them as I wish them to be.  As I mentioned to my friend in this discussion, it just feels to me like whenever I state a limit, someone is there to try to bust through it -- as though stating a personal limit were the equivalent of painting a bull's eye target on myself.  "But, pushing limits is how people grow," is the argument against.  And, I disagree.  It is not the only way people grow.  It is not the only way people try new things.  And it is not the concrete, definite, be-all-end-all rule that every Dominant or Master must push a submissive to do things that are uncomfortable.  It's written nowhere that this is "the only way" a D/s relationship may successfully exist and thrive in the world.

"But, you will stagnate and grow bored," is the argument against.  And, again, I disagree.  As I meditate on the idea of rendering, I think about the ways in which pain is removed from me -- not inflicted upon me.  As I meditate upon the idea of the getting-to-know, the sharing of imagination, the conversation and processing of the world together, the ways in which Tasdron gets to know me and offers perspectives that I had not thought of, the ways in which I may speak candidly and freely with him and unburden the sealed vaults of festering secrets or unleash the anxious chirping doves that are eager to fly, all the different ways that he takes care to preserve my essence while carving away the excess noise and sludge...  this process of rendering that takes place time after time, day after day, weeks and months on end... this process of rendering (that he would have me believe is mutual, in fact) is a process that does not involve substituting one pain for another but, rather, involves letting the real person come out.

The real person emerges.  And frankly, that's enough of a challenge for me, because it's been a long time since that's been a reality, and I didn't even realize it before.  This process of rendering requires trust and time and closeness and intimacy and care so that mistakes do not happen, of course, just like pushing limits requires.  But instead of pushing limits of endurance, it's a process of removing unnecessary endurance to free the soul and let experience be that much more gratifying.  And, thank you.  The peace is delightful from where I recline.

Transcendence

What have I learned in my study of the D/s lifestyle?  I've been a student here for over six months and, in that time, what has made it a worthwhile endeavour?  My whole blog is filled with learnings and personal achievements, and at the risk of under-privileging other very important lessons that I would gift to any seeker in the lifestyle, I do privilege one lesson above the rest and that is learning how to forgive yourself.  Nevermind the rest of the people who inevitably require it in life -- the self is more important and (though I did not realize it) cries out for it the hardest.  Thank you.

More than that, I understand what it actually means to forgive myself: and that it's not just words to repeat in a mantra each morning or affirmations to bring sweet dreams each night.  There is something to do and it is very important.  Forgive yourself for wanting to be loved means saying, "I want to be loved," and then saying, "Okay, me?  Good."  And then making it a part of my character.  "I am someone who wants to be loved," then, and after another little while, "This will only work if I feel loved because that's who I am."  As time passes, I take it for granted about me.  I am forgiven the selfishness of it by making it part of my true self without apology.

Forgive yourself for feeling so sure, for feeling so certain, and for being so wrong sometimes.  And for taking responsibility and feeling the burden of other people's responsibility (NOT a submissive vantage point, another reason why it feels so unnatural and heavy).  That means saying, "I am wrong, and I'm not sure," which opens me to enlightenment, and it is not tied to my ego to be unsure, and it is not a reflection of my character to be wrong.  I am forgiven the character flaw by making it my character to be open to enlightenment without certainty.

Forgive yourself for valuing perfection and for aspiring to it, and the shroud that thickens this:  forgive the illusions and pedestals and plinths that crumble when perfection shows what it looks like in the morning before coffee and lipstick.  And so I say, "I really enjoy the striving.  I'm going to keep striving.  I'll try a little harder to be satisfied, though."  And the coffee tastes pretty good today, thank you for that also.

Limits

I read so often in D/s literature that a submissive without limits is not as attractive as a submissive with limits.  I like Connor's take on limits very much, actually.  In his post about limits, wherein he talks about hard limits, conditional limits, soft limits, every kind of limits... he talks about how it is an accepted perspective in our lifestyle that limits are supposed to be pushed, and that is how a person grows.  I usually object to statements like that, but what makes this one different is that he tempers the idea by saying that to continually push limits would have us all committing "crimes against humanity" eventually.  Why bother declaring a limit if a person is just going to ignore it?   I have fought about this with lots of folks along the way:  my limits are damned sacred and they are not for pushing.  My limits really do mean, "this far, and no farther."    But, I suppose, I do not use my limits for growth.  My limits are not a tool.  My limits mean, "There is nothing else past this line for you to see.  This means you."

House Sparta calls that a boundary, the idea of "this far, and no farther."  Fine with me.  I will call a boundary a boundary if it means "this far, and no farther."   In the spirit of tolerance and respect, I can understand that sometimes people set limits that, over time, they grow past (if they want to) with the right kind of incentive.   But I object to the idea of "growing past" a limit, as if a limit by default were some kind of defect that needed help or some kind of stunted growth.  I think that is a dangerous assumption to make.  Not all who wander are lost; not all who limit are broken.  Feeling a part of House Sparta, as I do now, I know that my personal limits are safe as if twenty gods stood guard for me.  And, accordingly, because I feel so safe with my limits, I make sure they do with theirs too.

I have been meditating on and exploring the idea of limits.  I hadn't declared any limits because I still considered myself a student and not really a practitioner.  I didn't really need them.  I realize, though, that it is a good idea to declare them.  To think carefully, to understand what it is that we declare when we say "this far, and no farther."   "This far, and no farther," reflects a person's personality.  Some people say "anything goes" and those are the people (according to the literature) whose expectations are difficult to meet and who often do not know the meaning of "anything."  Defining limits demonstrates personality.  So I have been thinking, and I have been coming to some helpful (to myself) conclusions about where and when I say, "This far, and no further."   I do not have many limits, and I do not have many boundaries, but they are real and they are hard.  And I like being able to enforce that.  My limits and my boundaries protect someone else, actually, so that means they are especially unbreakable.  And I like that I do not need to change them if I do not feel like it, and I can be right about it.

Jealousy, Part One

I've spent so much time working on this assignment, and it's nowhere near finished.  Instalment one will be turned in, though, on Tuesday morning.  It's a lot of information.  I have so many people to thank for helping me accumulate all this good information; but I have Klaudia and Sir Tony to thank for helping me process all this information.  The process has been gorgeous.  The process is as enlightening as the subject matter.  I feel the caring; and as I get to the source, I feel it even more.  So, besides jealousy arising from an anxiety over the possibility of losing someone, regardless of whether it is a feeling, a motivation, or a behaviour all of its own, I have separated nine traits so far that help characterize jealousy when it is in action.  Sometimes the behaviour of jealousy cannot be distinguished from other feelings and other scenarios; sometimes the mask is very clever indeed.  But as I study it, the separation of traits becomes a fascinating study.  And it is a study that I wish to capture in photograph, and so I have been doing so.  The first trait I captured was silence.  Jealousy is a dangerous form of silence.  The picture of a woman with her back turned to the camera, with her body language and not her words declaring, "I will not tell you why I am angry."  This is the biggest dilemma because, ultimately, communication will be the antidote to feelings of jealousy: and so, to withhold communication is to pour fuel into the already-blazing flames of jealousy.  She turns her back and will not say what made her angry; but it was only a tiny little detail.  A very small thing, possibly: the kind of detail that topples geographical boundaries.  But she is in pain and surrounded by shadows; and the wounded retreat to solitude, in nature.

Another trait: loneliness.  It comes from the solitude of retreat, sometimes, but also it is important to realize that jealousy contradicts feelings of belonging.  This contributes to loneliness.  Those who feel as though they belong do not feel the pangs of jealousy.  (Those who feel like they belong in a group, or belong to a special lover, or belong to their one and only... etc.)  And it is tragic to imagine how those who feel the jealousy in the first place are those who are already self-alienated.  The jealous one is already lonely, in other words, regardless of whether she is invited to belong.  The jealous one already does not belong in her own mind, regardless of whether her lovers or her friends claim or disown her.  Persuading her that she belongs is not the antidote to jealous feelings: such persuasion is easily denied and easily proven to be false.  It takes a lot of understanding and a lot of care to figure out that the argument flows deeper -- has a source more profound -- than what is immediately visible.  The antidote to loneliness is not company, and the antidote to jealousy is not persuasion.  The source is darker, more mysterious, and was dug long before the lover looked askance the first time.  The antidote will, eventually, be long, difficult communication, increasing comfort zones and defining clear boundaries concerning acceptable behaviours and tolerable limits.  But it will work for the long term only if ........

Safe, Sane, Consensual

Safe.  A white room, well - lit.  A soft floor.  The security of my bindings, and the freedom to move around, testing the environment.  How does it feel to walk like this.  How does it feel to breathe this new air.  How does it feel with my body vulnerable to You.  How does it feel to trust You.  Will you listen to my limits?  Will you say, out loud, that You protect my limits?  Will you say, out loud, that You will do nothing to tease me about having limits?  You will do nothing to push my limits, because my limits are there to prevent pushing?  There is a whole, big, beautiful room to explore; there is no need to see what is behind the door.  The door is shut for a reason: and that reason is mine.  I feel safe in this room.  I feel safe with my limits, and with how well You respect my limits, and love my limits, because they are part of me.

Sane.  Nice, straight lines.  Regimented, regular schedule.  Proper proportion, moderation, and balance.  The horizon is a straight line, and everything flows from the line that extends into forever.  Private time to meditate and contemplate: to process what I have learned, and to turn back towards You and smile, understanding.  You have shown me.  My future You, my present me loves You for the nice, straight lines, regimented and regular schedule, and Your moderation and balance.  We do nothing that we have not talked about.  We do nothing that You cannot control.  Everything that we do is a measure of Your control.  Everything that we do is evidence of Your mastery of self, and mastery of me.

Consensual Consent.  I bear my burden willingly.  The chains about my neck are light.  The bindings at my feet are anchors, not weights.  You take from me what I would willingly give: You take from me all that I have, and curiously it simply fills me with more.  The Private Garden where You tend is full of me.  The vessel of secrets is capped until You open it and find me, a pool of wanting, rippling therein.  I am so easy to decipher, for You.  I am, for others, hieroglyphs without the guiding stone; monuments without meaning.  The brambles and the thorns, the teeth and the rats' nests, the Medusa head and the stone statues of men that line the garden path... I wander past souls of the troubled, and I try to keep my heart intact.  When there is only You.  Only ever was.  Only ever will be.  When I finally find You, it will be a moment of awakening, and then I will cry out YES  once more, and these dreams will be forgotten.

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.