No limits

After something intense and physical, a demonstration of the bond we share, something I was not expecting and something that awakened me to new levels of connection and new levels of understanding, he asks me, "I did not shock you, did I?"

No, of course not.  Yes, you totally shocked me. Both are perfectly true, and I love it.  But of course, they answer two separate questions.

The real, first question yesterday was whether I was alright, and so my answer is yes, I really am.  I am not shocked; I am alright.  The question that resonates now, though, in the aftermath, now that I'm thinking about it, now that I am awake and refreshed from a good sleep, now that I have eaten and worked and bathed and taken care of the home, that second question is much deeper: even though I am alright, am I affected?  Did I change?  A much different answer:  I am definitely affected.  It affects me.  Yesterday really affected me.  And I feel changed.  And that was the whole point of this journey:  and I want more.  

* * *
Since I began this journey at the beginning of the year, I have come to the following conclusions about limits:
1.  When you are with someone new, limits are your best friend.  Make them strong, and make them hard.  They will, in turn, serve you as they prove yourself and prove your intended.  Treasure those people who defend your boundaries and encourage your boundaries, for they are true friends.

2.  When you are with someone more intimate than "new," limits are your barometer.  You choose whether or not you wish to test those limits and grow out of them, depending on the nature of your intimacy and the depth of your respect for each other.  Your limits may still remain strong, even if one person is allowed to approach them more easily than others.  And perhaps, not just approach but also alter.  Perhaps.  If you decide.

3.  When you are with the right person, and you both know that you can rely upon each other as though you were directly responsible for the daily breathing of each heart and the daily feeding of each soul, there is no such thing as limits.  You both want the same thing, and there is nothing else to want for.  Where you end and where he begins, there is hardly even a boundary separating you.  Intimacy itself becomes a boundary that you both create, and everything else lives outside of it while you both live safe, together, inside.  Doing whatever you want.  Knowing that you both are safe.  Safe as hearts.  That is, at least, how I feel.  I love this feeling.

* * *
"At the bell tower" is the 100th post for One of Many Petals.  "No limits" begins the next hundred, and we begin it together, Tasdron and I, with all of my gratitude and love.  My exquisite submission, my great love, my perfect dreams and never-ending story.

Vulnerable Days, Strong Days

Today is father's day, and it is the first father's day that I experience without a father.  (I can see where this week's anxieties have come from, now that I think about it.)  My father was kind, quiet, strong,  self-centred (in the way that is zen and healthy), well-read, and always occupied (and yet forever available if I needed him).  My father did not raise me to be dependent upon him.  My father did not raise me to fall apart when he is gone.  My father raised me to live my own life; and if I faltered, he would fix it so that I could continue along the path I had chosen.  My father was unexpectedly hilarious in rare moments.  My father rarely spoke using contracted words, usually preferring to speak the word in its entirety as if to savour the full meaning of it.  My father was contemplative. My father took incredibly good pictures, usually of things nobody else was looking at.  My father's handwriting was immaculate.  My father's patience was selective.  My father's curiosity was healthy.  My father's storytelling was legendary.  My father could write so that anybody would want to read him.  There is nobody, obviously, who will replace my father.

It is not a replacement I seek, in any event.  However, it is fair to suggest that my taste in a dominant -- my comfort zone in obedience and learning -- has been groomed by someone extraordinary.  It would be within my comfort zone to interact with a man who does not expect me to fall to pieces waiting for him to return.  I do not.  It is not in my makeup.  It would be within my comfort zone to interact with a man who gives me consistency and regularity in terms of time and attention -- and who otherwise allowed me to live my life, with faint reminders scattered here and there, and enjoy things to look forward to.  It is why I do not enter this lifestyle broken: it is not reparation I need.  It is not an antidote I seek.  My first dominant, the man who first guided me and fashioned me and set me loose upon the world to live as shaped by him, he did so with care.  I am accustomed to that; and I am satisfied with the course of my own journey now.  The course is taking me further towards You, the great and powerful You who has hypnotized my thoughts and who compels me forward and forward on.

I felt weak yesterday; today I feel strong.  Today I feel like I master the very darkness that I seek -- and I know that is not possible... but sometimes little victories feel like big ones.  My little victories:  I have further defined my submission; I have made a situation that was not working for me (and bringing me pain) work for me, and bring me security.  I do know some very good people in the world.  And I will know You, the cooling dark that surrounds my burning light, strips me bare so that there is nothing hidden or wanting.

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 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.