In Xanadu did Kublah Khan a stately pleasure dome decree

Sunday, December 25, 2016

Christmas Gifts

All is quiet as Christmas draws to a peaceful close.

Being home is always a trigger to reflect on My dominance. This week's epiphany is that most of My family tops from tha bottom, or is, as john pithily pointed out, simply passive aggressive. Dad is too often cranky and takes it out verbally on mom, who has learned and taught us, with varying degrees of success, to run his words through a neutralizing filter. When he referred to her as fat and told "funny" story about being unable to lift her out of the new, deep jacuzzi tub, all I could think was: wow, in My life, boyfriends have died for lesser crimes. He does not mean to be cruel, and he did give her the deluxe version of the requested suction cup handle thing to help her in future. I know, because he gave it to Me to wrap.

We attended three church services in 18 hours, which was a bit much and I even skipped the first one. Unfortunately, the big midnight service was not as wonderful as in the past. The choir seemed only half full and the church was not packed. One suspects some combination of the major renovation under way, the new-old preacher, and different music director, is responsible. Personally, I felt the level of musicianship has dropped off. One wonders if there is now a replacement somewhere for this service which has been My go-to for 20+ years. High notes seemed thinner and unsustained. The tempi seemed hurried and insensitive. The congregation's "Thanks be to God!" felt formulaic and uninvested. It was warm and uncomfortably humid and the couple next to Me talked through the entire organ prelude when all others were sit-aware enough to keep quiet. Then dad drove home at midnight through through foggy rain at what seemed - to Me - an excessive rate of speed, as I slipped and slid around on the smooth, bench backseat, with the seatbelt pressing at My throat. It wasn't the uplifting Christmas Eve service that I expected. But I kept it to Myself.  Christmas morning service was amateur hour, so I didn't get My sacred fix there either. But I was pleased to see the parents so comfortable and at home in the congregation dad resisted for a decade. Chilly Calvinist doctrinal disagreement finally yielded to the Christian love of the people in their weekly Bible study.  Dad was all excited to show Me the church food pantry where they often volunteer assembling bags for the needy.

The strategy to serve cocktails daily is working a charm. We aren't much for drinking and though we enjoy the taste of wine, neither mom nor I likes how it makes us feel. john's cocktails are being put to good use and successfully so. It is now clear that My freakishly cocktail shaker and a bottle of Brazilian rum need to make the beach trip when parents, sister, nieces and I gather in a few months. On one level, I disapprove and cling to thinking we shouldn't need lubrication to get along; on another, I cannot argue with empirical results. We are a testy, perfectionistic, and anxious bunch... but one cocktail smoothes much of that away. I learned tonight that they have always liked cocktails, they are just "too lazy" to make them, opening a bottle of wine is easier. Ho-ho-ho! I can relate to Lazy Domme behaviour. Challenge accepted.

Christmas gifting wasn't extravagant -- lotions, chocolates, yoga props, and My requested shoe stretchers. Until I opened a little box and found a check that shaves six months off repayment of My student loan. This is another of a growing number of moments (three dots make a line!) when I look at My parents and wonder who they are. It wasn't just the check, it was mom saying that their thinking was that getting out from under the student loan seems to be My top priority. And I thought, wow, they are LISTENING!  

Of course, I have to consider that the feeling of being un-heard may have been a matter of joint responsibility. I see the chaos that ensues from everyone topping from the bottom in the family, not being clear with themselves or others. Perhaps, just perhaps, in the years I have identified as a Dominant, perhaps I have learned something. I remember at many points that the hard thing about being a Dominant was being clear about what I want, and cleanly, clearly, directly, kindly communicating it. Maybe, just maybe, that is having spill over effects into the most vanilla sanctum of My vanilla world, the parents. Maybe the years of being unhappy with My parents seeming checked out were partly My fault. Or not. Much has happened to change them, and they are mellowing noticeably.  But it is nice to think that kink can pay such unexpected dividends.  That kink has allowed Me to do things that ultimately are healing for the family.

My brother divorced before he died. My sister is divorcing now. I am single. My father asked Me this year, in a fit of genuine introspection, what I think he did wrong as a parent that none of his children are successfully married.  I couldn't bring Myself to say what I believe is the nakedly truthful answer to that specific question, and I don't think any good would come of it. We come from a long line of hard people. A shaman doing divination with Me (oh, why not?) once told Me that I effectively have no ancestors in the spirit world I can call upon because they are all so deep in their own pain that they are unavailable. That really resonated. There is indeed tremendous pain and trauma all over the family tree. It would be easy to beat up My parents for their flaws and mistakes. But I choose to look at My grandparents and notice just how far My parents have come, to notice how the things I fault them for is also a reaction, a conscious choice, to do better by doing the opposite of what their own parents did, to emphatically not repeat their parents' mistakes. 

I told My father that fundamentally, I don't know why none of his kids is happily married, but I can tell him that I'm OK. I'm happy. I'm happier than at any point in My life. He doesn't need to worry about Me. He can focus on My sister, and her kids; I will let him know if something changes with Me. I think it was the best answer I could have given. It just kind of popped out, but I heard in that moment the emotional content of his question. Like any good parent, seeing his children in real pain is excruciating for him. So I focused on his pain more than the abstract question posed, and I let him off the hook, I absolved him of some of that pain. He did - does - the best he knows how to do. Notwithstanding their human flaws, My parents have always been My home, My anchor, the center of gravity of My universe.

And in this moment of great generosity, I feel that in middle age I am at last getting the parents I always longed for. Parents that I can connect with sometimes. Not always. Not in many areas of depth. By no means on demand. But a good bit, much more than many people enjoy. And I do enjoy them, esp. one on one. Observing My boys and their families of origin, their marriages, their kids, other friends who lost their parents early or were adopted, all these have been a great help in developing a sense of perspective and proportion, a sense of being lucky, a sense of gratitude. I suddenly feel that right now is the sweet spot with mom and dad. The tide will run away from the beach one day, a day I cannot contemplate without immediate tears. A day I dread beyond all dreading. A decline will come, may indeed be well under way. But these days... these days are for savoring.  To know that, to know that *while* it is happening, to be *able* to savor it for as long as it lasts... that is a gift.

Merry Christmas

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Emergency Drive-By Soup

boy m was in the neighborhood this morning, and when he learned I'm sick, detoured his route to include the Whole Foods and Me.  Thirty minutes later he was on My doorstep with soup, fresh squeezed juice and a baguette, as requested. I unpacked while we chatted, then he threw himself to his knees and offered Me a gift. This caught Me completely by surprise as I stood there, sniffling, snorking, coughing, looking - and probably smelling - like a homeless person. I'm more than a little out of it right now. Still there he knelt, with a smile of joy on his face just for being in My presence. And I was so touched by feeling... raised up by his joy and enthusiasm for being with Me, though I had nothing to give. So surprised to feel one moment like a bum and the next like a Queen.  I'm not a finDom but I do love pleasant surprise gifts, and as he knelt there he extended to Me a small flat brown paper bag, which turned out to contain a generous gift card, maybe so I can amuse Myself shopping online while I recover in bed, maybe cuz he knows I'm lusting for a particular something, but I suspect it was more simple and less specific than that. I suspect he just wanted to give more than I had asked for. I was really touched and even slightly stunned. It kinda doesn't fit in My head to look and feel rotten and at the same time be treated so well. I think most people have an impulse to withdraw when sick or wounded, I certainly do, and I have learned to make a conscious effort to fight it or at least announce it. A good sub understands that when the Dominant is weakened, that is the greatest opportunity for service. And boy m gets it.

Yes, I struggle with his availability, but damn, when he shows up, when he is with Me, he does not disappoint. Sometimes I am in awe of a good subby boy, this is one of those days. I am very privileged to have three wonderful boys in My life. I wish I had more of their time, but truly, I am a lucky woman.

So the day has gone like this: boy leaves. Rest. Put one tree in a stand he assembled. Rest. Put second tree in stand. Rest. Finalize tree placement and watering. Rest. Clean up pine needles in bathroom and tub. Rest. Eat. Rest. Shortly I will drag the dirty laundry pile downstairs, start a load, take a shower, then apply tree lights. With luck boy m will succeed in keeping our planned visit tonight, making it quite the two-fer day.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

I Have Ennui

I know this because I have been streaming Gilmore Girls and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. The snooty Frenchman in GG sometimes has ennui and today I am slumping about just like he does. I also know because I wanted to attend a holiday performance and abandoned the effort in the seat selection process. And because I have had two small Christmas trees soaking in the tub of My only bathroom for several days while I strive and fail to assemble crap Chinese tree stands for them. I have vague intentions of housekeeping, of cooking, or freezing what I did cook before it molds in the fridge, of shopping and mailing gifts in time, of packing to get on an airplane. Ain't none of it really happened. The solstice is a mere 3 days away and this snow bird is headed south for a week. I'm sick, also, possibly probably a factor. In short, this likely is the low point for the year.  My clock had wound down.

Ten days from now boy t will arrive. he will arrive the day before I return and he will spend the time Mary Poppins-ing My house. he will give Me a jump start and together we will break the log jam.  It will be fine. Then in a few weeks it is My birthday and then a trip to the Gulf and then WinterFire and by then spring is within reach.

I'm doing some specialized yoga for My old injury and sometimes in class, tears start running down My face. I'm not in pain, I'm not upset or thinking about anything sad. It's just energy release, unblocking the energy locked up in the spasmed tissue. I let it pass thru. It takes patience and bravery and I have to talk Myself out of making up a story about it. Then I reward this high level of self care by walking a block down the pretty street to the custard shop, and l have even invited another human being to join Me, and successfully made chitchat throughout.  These are accompishments.. I'm going to continue with the class in the next 6 week session, it's useful and fascinating. Maybe I am ready now to do a series of rolfing bodywork. I hear it is painful, and I don't welcome that, but I can see that this connective tissue work is effective. I'd be stupid not to do it. I'm too young to have a body that feels this old. I had to turn down a playdate recently cuz I just can't give 200, 300 full wind-up, full force large paddle whacks these days. It used to be a nice workout. Now it's simply a terrible idea to try at all. I used to be the only Domme that could meet that guy's need for heavy play. Now I'm out in such a big way it no longer brooks any discussion.

But a rolfing series of bodywork would probably release a lot of stuff, like the class is doing and more, maybe that's too much processing for January. Maybe I wait for some spring. But then, My sibling died a few years ago in a freak accident, and younger than me. I shouldn't assume it's always possible to do it later. I should make an appointment.

I'm frustrated with the married boy. I can't have anything like the relationship I would want in the time he has, we can't get to the vast majority of what I want to do with/to him in a 90 minute visit. I thought once he knew Me and decided we were a match, that he would make Me a priority, he would make more time. But he doesn't. he would say he simply can't. That's a disappointment and an irritant. Married boys are like that. I'm annoyed at Myself for hoping otherwise; this was a preventable collision and as the Dominant, it is My fault. It's deep meteorological winter though, and I don't know quite trust My grumps to make the right choices. he is delightful when he does appear, it's possible I could focus on that part of it if I were in a better headspace generally. I'm not horny, that's another indicator of being at a low point. Patience. 

I did love declan's blog When The Tears Come. That was very hot and so very up My alley. And john's ruined orgasm post reinforced the vibe. So thanks to declan and john for those big shafts of light. Hehehe. See what I did there? 

Patience. Tea. Soup. Yoga. Netflix. And a cozy bed. Hibernation is a completely normal and natural instinct in mammals. I come from a Northern peoples, this wiring runs deep in us. Spring will come.