FETISH

Posts Tagged ‘healing’

Zen masocattin. thoughts on power.

In D/s, Bdsm, Philosophy..sociological commentary on May 4, 2009 at 9:50 am

I was thinking this morning about my grandparents.

I have one surviving grandparent at this time, but all four left an indelible mark on the shaping of my character and choices…

Watching the unfolding of their lives as a child..seeking sanctuary in both homes at various times in childhood, I was blessed by both the striking lessons in the choices they made and gifted to watch the outcomes of their thought and action.

They all had all too common and harsh upbringings.

However the choices they made in adulthood, and the impact their unions as couples had on the family and community around them was rife with food for reflection.

One couple lived well into their late nineties, grew closer and closer to the light as they aged, their skin becoming luminescent ..parchment to some essence that graced those who were to cross the portal into their humble little home.

They were simple celtic folk, deeply bound to one another and the land, and family, a life carved deeper and deeper each year like the rings in the cross section of an old oak,

The rituals of morning and evening prayer, an ethic of treating well all passers by who broached their porch, and though they dispensed no graphic wisdom or advice, people left somehow larger, calmer, the edges smoothed, with a smile…

LIGHTENED by the increasing lightness and dignity and laughter of these two.

The other couple were caught in a bind as well, forged not by grace and acceptance of one another and family, but by hate, violence and pain.

The legacy lives on in both families lives, and to me is an awesome example of how every life has the amazing ability, the POWER ..no need for money or worldly power, but something deeper and stronger than all that..to create or destroy.

Every single one of us creates heaven and hell here on earth.
By our moment to moment choices, and behind the choices, moment to moment thought.

We ARE as fallen Gods and if the power of what is called god is the power to create, we miscomprehend how very charged and lethal OR life giving our lives as sign posts and actual lived versions of the ‘way ” are.

There is power in each of us, regardless of circumstances..stellar power, rife with significance.

We do not have to strive so hard to be “somebody”.

We are Somebody.

Right here, Right now. Whether in the ghetto, or on the hill..

Our power, is equal.

We assign godliness to our leaders as we equate them with power.

Those public and “out there” those that show their ‘surface’ to the many.

Heroes and heroines walk among us every moment, often seemingly invisible.

You and I are as gods..in our power to create anew , in our choices every moment..to bring hate and violence or peace, grace and laughter.

I know life is tough…

As the buddhists say..the first rule is “Life is suffering’

breathe that in. breathe it out. move thru it.

Accept this, chill, know your own divinity..smile, pause and
rock someone else’s world today with the grace that is you.

and let them rock you back….

does not have to be a Led Zeppelin dirge..it can be as quiet as just creating the space for another to be, in your prescence, quiet and witnessed.

Morning thoughts from cat, the zenmasocat.
big smiles.
have a great one.

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Van the man, feed me.

In 1, On Art/writing/creativity on April 27, 2009 at 8:36 am

Listening to Van Morrison this morning..his happy songs..

I have always loved wavelength.

brought back some 25 years to a moment in time, a sunshafted morning, tune wavelength blasting out of the speakers, I was living with a group of other university students, a big old house downtown, half of us lovers,…a strange bohemian mix of jetsam and flotsam,
and this tune …I walked away into the dining room, as everyone and all our cats were eating breakfast..and began to dance in the light shining down on the hardwood floor,

my friends and my lover looked up, watched in silence, smiling, ah , that’s just *cat*, let her be..
it was a happy sweet spot in time for all of us..barefoot and full of the promise of youth..

poetry and philosophy spilling everywhere..

and then several years later, another moment, morning, taking a bath in our downtown home, my newborn baby on a towel on the floor , cooing, kicking, multicolored stained glass play on the walls, the mirror reflecting back pure joy..

these travellers have long gone from my life, my first college live in lover, and yes, my baby..

wavelength..bring the sun back, van..I am so hungry for it.

And yeah, I will dance barefoot, free form..revel
just because..the dance goes on..

Now blasting brown eyed girl..take that you miserable neighbors..
cat

I am burning down the house, beginning with myself, apparently.

In D/s, Bdsm, Daily news update..art,writing, collaborations, upcoming events, On Art/writing/creativity on April 14, 2009 at 11:15 pm


I am becoming completely out of touch with my creativity. Or RATHER, creativity is not touching me…
impotent
sterile
thinner then a blonded blade of winter grass..brittle.

At first I did not see what was happening to me.
Death by slow painless hemmorhage.
Death by theft in the middle of the night,
The Man with the Black Sack cast over his shoulder,
stealing out my back door,
my soul inside,
my body still breathing, but
missing something essential
as I
tossed and turned bereft in my fitful dreams.

I’ve had a month of dreams of the Darkman..I close my eyes, go deep into the coolness of my pillow, and then they rise up
do battle… pillage, rape, and murder
declare themselves a nuisance to my nurture.

In the dawn, I am clumsy, accident prone, I have sustained three burns of late,
one from boiling water as my trailing sleeve caught on the kettle’s handle,
one direct from the burner..
and a couple of days back, get this..if this doesn’t trump all,
I actually lit myself on fire, my face to be exact.

Absentmindedly, lighting a cigarette, I leant
my hand against my forehead,and torched half an eyebrow away.
I knew something was on fire,it was the scent gave it away, not pain. I did not realize it was me..
.
I had to hit myself in the face to put myself out.
Jesus Christ.(jes’ vernacular…maybe)

Morphine’s deadly.
Deadly to the soul. The body may be intact, but there’s something wanting..

As I first begin to sense that there is a war afoot, that the air raid sirens way off in the distance in the dark were not a false alarm or mere elevator musak,..
I looked to the external.

I looked to my relational world..
my children,
one of my OCD ex husbands who will not put the weapons down, my lover…
but all is simply a mirror of me.

I have stopped kicking ass.
I have stopped hissing, spitting, biting and generally laying claim to the life that which is mine..
my voice,
my form,
my “self”.
The deep self is not to be found in identities surface or layered,
it is in laying the fuck claim to your own howl.
your own heart, carnal and in motion.
My environment is toxic. yes, I love my house..but houses are shells, cities and towns are shells when one is not awake to authenticity.
I am not here, quite simply. If I was my own houseplant I would have died by now from lack of water and sun.

Sometimes things are not stolen so much as we give them away. For free.
Next month I will be in new york with Lucifer, and if the days pass to that time, I will receive all the shakeup and soul food I can handle.
I will be a kitten , eyes wide as saucers at the sights and sounds, both of the city, and of us.

But in preparation, I am reclaiming me.
I feel like a glass butterfly, a monstrosity that..
I am breaking the glass.
This attrition by default, entirely of my own making will unravel.

But first, triage..and a trip to the corner store for afterburn ointment. Obviously I can’t have enough.
Musings, you can’t keep a cat down for long..
cat.

What is more sexy than a spirit of play?

In D/s, Bdsm on April 9, 2009 at 9:58 pm

What’s more sexy than a spirit of play?

An openess to seize the opportunity in a crowded day and with the most innocuous of remarks ignite your lover’s imagination?

A verbal sparring intellectually that leads to laughter, that leads to, well, the sudden desire to fuck..

Something secretive, a glance exchanged between two, a question mark, an opening to the shading of mood into the seductive?

A change in tone, oh so quiet, the whisper, out of context , but jarring to the cunt and cock?

The moment alone together in the bathroom, a hand on the nape of the neck, a shared cueing to the moment?

What is damning?

Coldness.

Indifference.

Boxes.

Failure of the imagination.

If you want to kill something , freeze it to death.

Ignore and avoid opportunity.

Turn a blind eye.

Disown.

Disengage.

Maim it with uptightness, and rigidity.

I’ll take a spirit of play, which does require intelligence , imagination and an openess to life any day over

dogged seriousness and dramatic grandstanding on nothing but bullshit.

Drama kings and drama queens drive me bananas. god, I love to laugh.

Life is serious enough, play is heartart, and not optional in my choice of friends and lovers..

cat.

play, out of such freedom springs art and the new..

I may be odd in this but I do not do my best creating out of misery, but out of play. When I get too serious I wanna be knocked out. Seriously.

There’s a time and place for everything, and and I can wax serious with the best of them, but play is not optional. There is enough coldness and tragic that will happen unbidden, why add? Be very conscious of the choices you make..to stay vibrant and alive you need to add laughter and play to the tears and drudgery.

Shared laughter, shared intimacy feeds the soul.

Doing Power Exchange in D/s Relationships.

In 1, D/s, Bdsm on April 4, 2009 at 5:21 pm

Doing Power Exchange in D/s Relationships.

What is Power exchange in Dominance and submission?

It is a flow of energy, issuing from consensual roles between two individuals.

This energy is ultimately synergistic, that is it flows both ways , reinforcing and shaping the Dominant individual and reinforcing and shaping the submissive individual in their chosen roles.

Just as the submissive responds to the Dominance of the Dominant partner, the Dominant responds to the submission of the submissive partner. There is a mutual set of needs, that meet and merge in a mutual gratification, and in a healthy D/s exchange, personal growth.

Growth is innate and dynamic. Without growth we stagnate. To grow in a D/s exchange, trust is perhaps the most fundamental of cornerstones. Sans trust, growth will be inhibited. We spread our wings, we measure ourselves against bars both intrinsically and extrinsically sensed..

Trust is not forged overnight. Trust itself is dynamic…it is predicated on and watered by consistency, goals met, limits surpassed.

Both the Dominant and the submissive begin a dance, intuitive at first, to see if they have something of personal and unique value to one another.

We are larger than the sum of our roles. The relation between the two becomes a third entity, it is a creaturata that issues from the merging of the two, it is shaped , carved and nurtured by attending to one another, in all our particularities.

To this end, both Dominant and submissive develop empathy for one another..empathy being a demonstrated ability to resonate to the deep needs of the other..to intuit, thru reason and calling, in the service of synchronicity.

Without synchronicity, there will not be growth.

Synchronicity encompasses the whole of the relationship..no one domain should be untouched…we grow into a deepening erotic understanding of each other as unique individuals, a deepening emotional and intellectual understanding, a deepening psychology.

This journey is not linear . It has bumps, challenges, periods of frustration and demands a vision of where you as individuals wish to travel together.

There invariably will be risks, challenges, and periods of intense self and coupled reflection. Growth is difficult, mastery requires practice on the part of both Dominant and submissive, mastery of the self is not the sole domain of the Dominant partner, but the domain of the submissive as well.

A Dominant must value mastery of the self, before they can enter the journey of the mastery of the submissive. From their own knowledge of this journey , they have something of wisdom to impart to the submissive .

To bring it back to power exchange..two elements must clearly be sensed, that one is attaining increasing personal mastery ..the one by directing, the other by being directed.

I cannot stress how important it is that the submissive see the positive and life enhancing results of engaging in power exchange with the particular Dominant one is engaged with.

The Dominant’s influence on one’s sense of well being must be felt, the various arenas that they have mutually agreed to engage in power exchange over, will over time in a growing dynamic, fed by a developing trust, and the actions that spring from that..be obvious both to the Dominant and the submissive.

Intimacy is not a straight line, however, over time the movement should be that of an enhanced rather than fractured bonding.

Power exchange should serve to lift, inspire and broaden both individuals sense of self hood. Yes, I maintain that fulfillment should flow in both directions.

A relationship based on D/s power exchange will impact the couple as separate individuals and as a shared third being, the birth of the results of the bond between, a bond that is unique to every two that enters within.

If power exchange is the template and the electrical current, what is fostered will be unique to that coupling. This is why no two D/s relationships are alike , nor should they be.

We bring our uniquenesses at heart to the core of power exchange.

Happiness notwithstanding, growth is the paradigm upon which it all rests..for both. It is not so much that we find growth in happiness, so much as we as humans find happiness in growth.

Stretching is not always pleasant, in fact it is often painful.

But the stretching should be in service to enhancing our selves as erotic, intelligent, and empowered …not diminished.

No one moment defines this and there is no complete arrival. There is error and trial and of such things the path is taken.

Power exchange is the path. Heed who you enter the dance with. For what is mutually created has such latitude to heal or to harm, both individuals.

Dominance should not run amok, seeking to dominate anyone for the sake of dominating. Submission requires that you bring your head and your heart to the wedding feast at Cana.

The alchemy of power exchange should enliven both.

It will not always be easy.

Think of the new testament story where the master felt the “power” go out of him when his garment was touched.

He responded to the “touch” to the deep call, and his response was to heal.

In touching something deep within the Master’s core, he was enabled to respond as Master, and the woman to receive.

This story was not an impersonal one..they “felt ” one another’s beings.

The exchange unique to them.

All power exchange is at core between two uiniquenesses and unduplicatable in time.

Thoughts from the keyboard of the cat

You Don’t need to Go looking for a Zen Master. He’s here, he is Now.

In 1, My journal, Philosophy..sociological commentary on March 29, 2009 at 3:03 pm


You don’t need to go looking for a Zen master.

I have been thinking about this recently. The Zen master is here now, it is in all phenomena that looms up in your world, both within and without.The Zen master lives on that line between reaction and response. The Pause.

I have been thinking about this recently because one, I’m given to weird flights of thought to begin with..and two, I was surfing thru  D’s amazing blog the other day and came across a post, which apologies, I cannot seem to find again,
wherein he talks about his now passed on grandmother’s, (I believe it was his grandmother, again I stand to be humbly corrected)

phrase that
“the Dead don’t grieve that we know of.”

Well, that kind of jumped out at me, and has been whirling around percolating ever since…
Do the Dead grieve?
Do they have moments of nostalgia?
All nostalgia and futuritus..some of us are more orientated to one affliction the more so than the other, but basically it all seems to stem from one great cosmic loin you know, LONGING,desire..anything that prevents us from being right here, right now.
Present and accounted for.
How many of us could say that we are truly present and accounted for moment to moment? That we are not addicted to nostalgiks or consumed by futuritus?

I want to learn to be in the now.OMG, I see so much craziness both within myself and others..from not being able to tolerate and have the peace of the now. To be unable to face what is in your face.

I was thinking lately how I wanted a mentor, I’ve had various formal mentors of varying stripes over my lifetime..and it has hit me in the past two days

that everybody and everything and every thought and feeling that comes my way is my mentor if I let it be.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

that when I set anyone up to be my teacher above me, they are bound to fall eventually.

That the teacher is everybody and everywhere, a thousand faces, whatever shows up on my dashboard . The teacher is my reaction to it.

The teachable moment, when I put my weapons down, really and truly and let others be in my life as they are, and let myself be , moment to moment with THAT. How I am, how they are. Simple.

We are never going to escape emotion, and who would want to, it’s part of the human experience, we are not going to escape attachment and longing this side of the veil, and who knows if we even escape it the other side of the veil, as Doc’s statement ends..
” the Dead don’t grieve , THAT WE KNOW OF..”

What if they do grieve, what if they watch us and grieve for our pain, our convoluted webs, and the rain is simply their big fat tears of grief for us, washing our faces clean?

I don’t know. I don’t know if or where or how it stops..

I was thinking this morning about the most beautiful surroundings I found myself in a few years back when a couple living on the edges of the Old growth Cathedral forest in this renovated amazing trailer, renting it for a steal,invited me to spend some time there with them, and they were too strung always on drugs to really drink in the beauty around them,

and I would get up in the mornings and wander onto the wrap around deck and listen to the songbirds and want so badly to have a place like that for myself,

uncomprehending why they would medicate something, some old pain, whatever, we all carry it, so far out of them so as to not be in this awesome place.

The awesome place is the Now.

Of course I had an awesome teacher. I had a child who journeyed a full ten and a half years with me, both of us I believe with the full awareness that he could die at any moment,

and you know that was the thing I feared the most, and then finally one day it happened.

And I am still here.

Oh my God, I loved that child like I have never loved before or since. All I had was the now, and the now was sometimes godawful and sometimes pure rhapsody. But mostly just gift.

Maybe when I long and slip the bounds of the Now, in whatever situation, with whatever phenomena, or in whosever’s company..whenever I want something to be other than the way it is..not overall, but right here , right now, when I resist, maybe he does grieve for me.

And says, oh mama, you haven’t learned the lesson yet.His heart breaking…

I was thinking about how all was the now for him this morning, I was remembering him,he was almost blind, so everything was sound, and you could not creep up on that child on long shag carpet.

His head would turn and breathing shift almost imperceptibly..he would be attending to the moment.

I recalled the pain of leaving his hospital room late at night, when he was in, as he often was, and I would never creep out on him, I would always tell him I was going..

and then as I backed out of the room, my heart pounding I would watch his little face, listening, listening.

The Now was all he and I had.

He didn’t tell me he was going when he left for good..or maybe he just told me his whole life..

All I am trying to say this morning, is , stop trying so hard to live in nostalgia or the future, be right here now, now is the zen master, stop struggling so hard to conform everybody and everything to your will..let it all be..let them be, for god’s sake, let yourself be once in a while..

Everything and everybody is the Zen master, when you just let it be…

Not to be confused with complacency or hopelessness..no not at all. I fought for my son’s life the entire time he was with me.
Maybe he fights for mine now.

of course this could all be brought to you by a case of food poisoning I have from gleefully consuming a sushi salmon roll yesterday. WTF knows. or that I have reacted into several things in my own world in the past 48 and been less than ohmed out about them. 🙂

kata karma, rock on

love cat

Abuse dynamics/ D/s dynamics..

In D/s, Bdsm, My journal on March 25, 2009 at 10:12 am

Still stormed in here.
Almost a week into the official arrival of spring and I have been scrambling thru white out conditions to get to the corner store.

I’m thinking back this morning to where I was a couple of years ago to this date. In a shelter, a couple of days arrival into a city I had been transported to for reasons of safety. A city that was awash in cherry blossom petals, they paved the streets…

In a shelter for women and children leaving abusive relationships, shocking to me because I had been an abuse counsellor for over a decade prior to this relationship.
Mute, traumatized, and undone. The relationship only lasted six months prior to my leavetaking, but I began a process of coming to terms with how it all went down to begin with.
In retrospect, I believe it could only happen because of the situation I found myself in, far from my home..and the life timing..

When I met the person who was to become so monstrous, I was actively grieving an enormous life loss, and as all cons do, this person knew how to work that vulnerability.
It’s a black hole, almost surreal, in my personal life story..but there is a message I want to speak to..

Anyone, regardless of who you think you are, can find themselves in this sort of mess, the shame is not in landing there,what is pivitol is the pride one should take and awareness that one has the skills to get out.

As I arrived there, as many do, without a thing to my name, I was given a voucher for 100 dollars for clothing and personals..
at a connected thrift operation.
I recall the pain and confusion as I, a woman who had been independent, so very independent in many ways all my adult life, went to pick out a sweater to wear around the city in the spring weather.
Reconnecting to my sense of selfhood, oh, I like this fabric, that cut,I deserve this.
It was horrendously difficult, I had lost my “I”.

My partner,I really do NOT know what to call him,had a very dominant personality, despite not being a Dominant, he employed all the same mind fuks ect, but without limits and ethics that exist in a healthy D/s relationship..his motives were pathological.

In D/s there is a certain amount of loss of self that is given over in trust..by the submissive..and that is why the ethics and borders, and mutual respect are crucial.

I believe that as a submissive, it is integral that I have and experience a strong sense of the “I’, as my touchstone , while experiencing the loss of the “I’ that is part of the gift of submission.

Submissives need to hold each other up in this, Dominants need to negotiate and be aware of selfhood issues for those they take on.

I know some may feel differently on this..but whether it is submission or slave status,how can one give what one does not have?

If you do not have a “self” you cannot employ it in the service of another or yourself.

Abuse belittles and destroys the self …in a healthy D/s dynamic the self is given a container within which to grow.

I will  be continuing my thoughts on this in the next post.

Hope your week is going well, cherry blossom petals on my mind while I listen to the crooning foghorn and watch the dovegreyed skies, shaking out flakes , as we say here, the old one brushes with her broom..hopefully but not likely the last touch of winter.

Hyperfocus, drift,creativity. Blessing and curse.

In D/s, Bdsm, My journal, On Art/writing/creativity on March 22, 2009 at 9:50 pm

Had a scar touched on the other day. Opened unexpectedly,  confusion and vertigo, a tumult of  sensations, energies that I am loathe to label as distinct emotions…instead when processing, I locate where in my body the sensations reside, and then let them speak for themselves..

The dominant sensation was one of my throat closing down, a choking, and an ache..a sensation I often experience as an ambiguous pleasure as I am entering subspace..I say ambiguous because, there is such a hyperdermic rush of euphoria mixed with something akin but cousin to, not quite fear.

The sensations attached to struggle and surrender.

This was different. There was no pleasure. I knew in part that something had been touched on that was much older than the moment and the context at hand. However, my inner world tilted on its axis veering into history.

The memories, felt sensations from childhood before I had the concepts to label my emotional realities, simply struggling at the mercy of them.

If there was a single quality I both exuded as a child and was furthurmore punished for..it was my creativity. Not from both parents, but from one, who was innately threatened by the way I processed, I took things in thru my senses rather than in a linear fashion, another way of saying this was although very cerebral, I was floaty, dreamy and given to solitude and thinking outside the box.

When caught up in a reverie, be it a new way of seeing or doing, I did not take direction or instruction well, I colored outside the lines , happily,not to rebel, it was simply innate.

My ability to hyperfocus has a down side. Sometimes switching gears takes a moment longer than non creative types.

How does this serve me as a submissive?

It’s an incredible gift when powerfully cued , and offsetting when I am distractible.

It’s been a long journey to embrace my creativity and way of being in this world, its been hard won.

A scar was touched on, a scar that whispers, inside of me, oh you fucked up, draw your lines straighter, attune and pay attention. Your inability to do this marks you as different, an outsider, inept.

I took a triage approach, accepted that my felt reaction was something far older than the now, processed and let go.

I walk the inner and outer world with greater or less degrees of precision dependent on what I have been caught up in..and at this point in my life given that I have a fair grasps on my strengths and faultlines, I let people into my intimate space who have some awareness and tolerance for drift.

For as sure as I have a capacity for drift, which enables me to see and experience the subterranean qualities to the phenomena around me, I also have a capacity, when compelled or taken by a perception, sensation, idea, or person to give it 500% of  myself and then some.

This double edged sword can be harnessed to the good or damned.

I continue to strive to harness it to the good, for all those that I love, and all that I love.

cat

On love, loss and the friends that return.

In D/s, Bdsm on March 14, 2009 at 6:23 pm

When all is said and done, it’s often friendship that trumps love, obsession and the other trailing compulsivities that draw us to another.

Friendship has its own soulfulness, does not require similar temperaments and each often brings an ungainly difference in oneself to the meeting ground.

While we often feel driven to get closer to the merge point with the object of an erotic or romantic craving,( I mean, honestly..when was the last time you wanted to MERGE with a friend) friendship asks that we reveal ourselves, our soulfulness as it were in shared humor, acceptance, and leeway for gliches.

Theres a thing that takes over in the initial stages of erotic attraction..the Want..foregrounding all subtext..online or off.

The older one becomes it seems the more so we expect, even require friendship as handmaiden to our couplings..and the mastering of this is a tricky tango.
The soul tho could care less.It will drive us down to our knees for the taste of its darker appetites in ways that would render us unrecognizable to family and friends.
Family , friends, lovers all come with their own separate pathologies…
For me, when a lover has also been a friend and that has been deeply felt, the loss is the hardest.

I’ve learned a certain detachment to loss, as it were, over the years having been iniated, sceaming into some of the roughest types…I am not speaking of the erotic here, but the lesson transferred.

Embrace, and embrace Deeply..but also, learn the Grace in letting Go.

Just some thoughts, Cat

This is my body, respect it. Erotic self regard in D/s

In D/s, Bdsm on March 14, 2009 at 5:33 pm


Ok, so doing my bit for breast cancer research here.Anyone check out the gallery from the 2008 Bloggerboobiethon? ( breast cancer fundraising) Some lovely pictures…

respect and acceptance of our bodies is on my mind today..
Each one of us unique as our fingerprints, the body being conduit between mind and material world..at once malleable & sculptural…carbon, water and mystery..

There are so many ways that respect and love for our bodies is integral to participation in the kink landscape..

we need strength to weild and to yeild…

we need courage to know ourselves as subject and object

we need communication, rapport and trust to engage in the many edge play activities that involve the intimate exchange of fluids .. (I for one, do NOT beleive in blind trust)

one cannot afford to be naive..out of self love and an ethical approach to those we play with we need to be honest and forthcoming in our conversations.

We need intimacy with our own bodies before we can share and we need honesty and candor between ourselves and our partners..

Just some thoughts on the juncture where our bodies manifest..between vulnerability, disclosure and form…