Magdalena..a thought on Submission

Magdalena jesu and magdalena i like to beleive he held her close i resist the stories passed down by the fathers that this man this son of god knew not a woman his love of women his joy his compassion for their sorrows his wonder at their core i beleive he knew magdalena the thought …makes me happi touchin her hair, cuppin her face to hell with the fathers hatemongers, warmakers I’ll beleive Jesu and magdalena anyday. For B..the word cuppin..smiling. Meow Magdalena emptied herself completely in her hunger and love for Jesu. We know she was a strong woman.. creative..sensual ..given to the depths She sat at his feet in a trance she foresaw his death and anointed his feet with her tears/ointment/and hair she “knew ” him and he, he “knew ” her.. she loved him.. she had no choice.. In her story..there is ultimate submission ..surrender from recogniton profound the communion between these two and for centuries the church has tired to sanitize this story…Why? Because of its innate power.. if one really lets oneself feel this story it is shockingly subversive tale of love And I have always been profoundly moved that he showed himself to her First… Much to think about there..

Hellbound for Joy D/s

I had an x who would on occasion, after listening to a response to a question he asked of me, reply….dig deeper.

I grin ruefully, because often, his direct reply was apt.
I had offered up some version of the truth..usually the one floating on the surface of the matter. Smirk. We all have a word for that, and we are ALL guilty of it.

Disclosure IS often uncomfortable. Naming AND claiming. This is MY truth…
How Do we do this?
We inhabit our selves, body and soul. We look outward at the world and..
we look inward at our world.
Hands opened we gesture…this is my body ..this is my soul..perceive me…
We open to the same in the Other. I see/ hear/ touch your body..
I see/ hear touch your soul..I perceive You…
Communion.
The more we choose to reveal the closer we come to truth.

I am not speaking of the staged and gawdy revelations of the talk shows…( altho..even there we Do see human nature at play…but personally I liken such gawdy confession obsession to the very excess of theatre that brought down Rome ..lol)

In the very intimate theatre that is the dance of Dominance and submission..we do not just dig, we dive….

In an authentic power exchange..the sacred and the profane are twinned..and there we touch Truth…
I wait for the one who has my name and whose name I have….

I am Hellbound for Joy.

The new blog!

Morning!

I am still in the process of archiving and structuring this blog..transferring an extensive body  from my writings on what was my home blog on alt.com …and materials I have had on deviantart.com and fetlife.com.

Shaping up in my mind like a shuffling pack of cards the easiest way to make the information accessible to readers.

There’s a wealth of articles here …I will be archiving and nesting them in such a way that you can search by subject..

I hope to foster a place and space where you will be entertained, educated, and informed, and where you can share your own experiences and commentary in return.

Why do we keep blogs?

My blog on alt.com began as a small voice in the dark, smiling here, a way to self express, ,grew to include a wonderful community of like minded individuals, and became very well read and followed daily..

As a writer, my life is my writing, NOT my blogging, but the blogs are a signpost to other writings, and art.

Community is a beautiful thing to be a part of..I am looking forward to the new community connections that this blog home will foster..

I know that when mind engages mind, awesome things can follow..relationships, collaborations,  joint endeavors artistically, politically..

I have been part of online communities for well over a decade..and the friendships made have been enduring, the opportunities to enhance one’s art, one’s life perspectives..and to meet people one would otherwise have never had the joy of knowing..

rock on out there this Friday the 13th, and do drop a comment and say hello, let me know how I  might meet you..

Mind touching mind..a quantum joy …think about it!

cat

My private katmandu, a Journey to Submission

I’m lost in thought here. I am thinking about my first introduction to D/s.
It was within a relationship to a previous lifestyle Dominant that I had met thru a vanilla dating site. He had followed my profile for months..and once he initiated contact, although it was from the other side of the country..he knew beyond any doubt what his motivation was..
AS well he knew I did not know the formal world of D/s and BDSM.

The relationship was intense for both of us from the starting gate. It became an online offline LDR.

What I am pondering on this morning ..is how this man..brought me into this world without giving me the words for my life altering experience, nor the concepts. This is just WRONG.

Although the words Dominant and submissive were brought up early on, there was no discussion of power exchange, subspace, protocol.
We lived it but we did not talk about it.

I had no idea this side of kingdom Come what it was I had entered into in terms of the porous and mysterious borders of the hinterlands of this space…

I had always been an intensely sexual person..but I had however no reference point for the magnetizing intensity of the scenes we were engaging in. The word scene was not used, nor was the word limits..there was no black fetish wear..no outward signs..

I experienced subspace or what I now call trance dancing for the first time..and I was awed..
I experienced intense subdrop..and again..I was left to integrate the shattering new sensations without a framework..

When it ended, and it ended badly…I began to read everything I could find on S/m and D/s. I am thankful for the internet because as regards this lifestyle I might as well be living in Timbukfukingtoo.

I wandered on to A-F-F briefly and that resulted in a several fiascoes..I met a local couple, very hi profile, very discrete, who wanted me to “swing ” with them and after a couple of dinner meets..and much talk they told me..I was too “kinky” for them. This happened with several meets with others..that site as we all know here is about fast sex and swinging..and not D/s.I was told..whoa..we’re not where YOU are..or, simply met with WTF???

I met quite a few Dominants online and off thru the various alternative sites and continued to read, and pay very close attention to what I was feeling, experiencing in casual scening .I experienced different Dominant’s energies mixing with my own.

I committed to no one.

I learned that the energy exchange I am capable of experiencing in my submission is not something I wish to engage in recreationally.

I learned that respect and trust are the corner stones.

I learned that because someone is able to engage you intensely in erotic power exchange does not mean they are a good Dominant for you.

I learned that what I do now..is not sex per se..the goal is not orgasm..altho erotically that may happen..

that the “trans/gasms” I have now ..are as far removed from vanilla sexuality .. there is almost no way to describe the place we go to,to the uniniated..

..given my thing for words and persuasion tho..I am certain I could arouse curiousity..

It is a continuing journey. I left Kansas miles ago..

My Dominant holds up the Red Shoes/smacks them together….and I am somewhere beyond the pale…

It is energy exchange.
It is POWER exchange.
It is erotic, emotional, spiritual and mental engagement.

Sex lies somewhere within its terrain..

We learn and share and move thru.

Thankyou Lucifer.

Theres no one I’d rather be sharing this journey with..
You rock my world.

Love, cat.

On Liminality, trancing, Bdsm and the sublime

” Liminality (from the Latin word līmen, meaning “a threshold”

is a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective, conscious state of being on the “threshold” of or between two different existential planes,

as defined in neurological psychology (a “liminal state”) and in the anthropological theories of ritual by such writers as Arnold van Gennep, Victor Turner, and others. In the anthropological theories, a ritual, especially a rite of passage, involves some change to the participants, especially their social status.

The liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. One’s sense of identity dissolves to some extent, bringing about disorientation. Liminality is a period of transition where normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed – A SITUATION WHICH CAN LEAD TO NEW PERSPECTIVES. (My emphasis)

People, places, or things may not complete a transition, or a transition between two states may not be fully possible. Those who remain in a state between two other states may become permanently liminal.”

From Wikopedia..online dictionary.

Renegade savant Chasing Rabbits & Hookah Smoking Caterpillars posted a provocative piece this morning on the mind altering impact of magic mushrooms and other pyschodelic drugs.What rene was speaking to was as I see it the ability of these substances to enhance our entry into the Liminal, as described above.

As an individual schooled in the sociological, philosophical and theological,I have long been fascinated by the entire arena of the liminal..that is those life crossroads, religious rituals, drug highs, and erotic experiences that enable us to transcend everyday awareness.

Entering the liminal ,we are as the above passage so beautifully defines, in a state where our long held perceptions of ourselves and others, in short our definition of REALITY may be shattered.

Indigenous peoples the globe over have refined and passed on spiritual rituals to safeguard those participating in such quests..often engaged in at seminal rites of passage moments to mark the changing of one’s status ..or to answer some question related to inner or collective journeys..

Much of the knowledge regarding entering and moving thru the liminal has been passed down as esoteric knowledge..that is knowledge that is not common everyday and is learned, taught, ect.

Perhaps here in the “western” world with our emphasis on individualism..much of this knowledge has been lost.I see many youth gangs ect, as an attempt to retribe to this knowledge..to create form and ritual to the experiences many hunger for..the edge of reason and then the safe journey back, with the gifts of heightened and altered awareness.

Unfortunately , the sage is missing in all this..the skilled shaman so to speak, and the navigation..which was always dangerous, when sought after solo or within a group banded by violence and frustration becomes lethal and destructive..

Do we need ritual and skilled knowledgeable mediators when entering the liminal?

or can we just drop a drug,solo, push the limits of erotic experience with one not trained and aware of the dangers, speak directly to whatever that experience we lamely call god( the hebrews refused to say the name of god..said it was unknowable..) without the middle man of organized religion?

It is interesting..the mystics of every different world faith have more in common with one another than they do those that are within the faith they claim to hold. What do I mean by this?

Whether Buddhist, zen, Hindu, Christian, ect..those who have had mystical experiences within these organized frameworks hold much more in common experientially..a sufi with a christan for example then those within that religion that have not.

The writings describe a remarkably similar experience of intoxication ..call it a “god” drunk or whatever..it is a peak at the unitive consciousness, that as described by Rene,or others can also be had by dropping a pyschodelic, or by participating in erotic trance dancing..

A sudden horrific life “accident” can do this as well..shatter our belief systems, as can a positive one..many men for example state that watching their own child being birthed was the closest they have ever come to a semi mystical life altering transition..

I beleive many people long for the liminal..within D/s and Bdsm it dances..this should be obvious..

I have experienced many different types of drug highs, various altered energy experiences, the speaking in tongues, flying lucid dreams, and no surprise..I trance deeply erotically..the endorphin hit is mind and body altering, requires ritual to safeguard me, and “bliss” is surely an apt descriptor..but even then inadequate to the places I go..

it is as if curtains upon curtains open the deeper I enter, revealing whole worlds that appear to evolve out of body travel. My atoms seem to dissolve and the distance between myself and other falls away.
Lucifer and I have tranced from thousands of miles of physical separation and yet his presence and physical emotional and mental energies have been as palpable as if he were next to me. I have felt and seen my body change as if touched. Talk about astral..smiling..

Crack is phenomenally mind blowing, and yet, it is an external substance..having experienced its erotic intensity and also having experienced …. trance dancing..I would have to say that the external substance somehow left me with a horrifically solo sense as opposed to unitive..

My mind/body is reaching greater highs than I ever did on a drug..and it feels mystical in a positive way because at heart I am sharing it with the trance master I dance with.

I for one, believe that the routes to the liminal are more safely approached thru drumming, dancing, trancing , tantric sexuality than any external substance..

We are not a culture unlike past cultures that have a lore and knowledge to help us INTEGRATE the life changing experiences a drug can give us.

Natural endorphins can push us as closely to the edge..

Part of the beauty of what there is so much talk here about protecting..the “culture” is an attempt to safeguard those who would enter such life altering experiences thru D/s and S/m..

without guides we play alone like a couple of three year olds and a box of matches..

The culture is an attempt to safeguard those who would journey thru the liminal.

re read the definition of Liminal at the top..is that not the door we open?

As such. The wisdom of the “elders’ and those who have journeyed furthur into this world is invaluable..

As Max Faust and his partner have spoken to in several recent posts..the goal is one of enhancement,and not to lose one’s mind, but to gain it…to see thru altered experience that the emperor has no clothes, to integrate it and then to live it with dignity and simplicity..

The pharmaceutical industry is the top corporate industry in the western world.
We are a society hungry for meaning out of the cultural madness we are in and we are doped beyond recognition in our dissent. Marx predicted this.

To seek the liminal whether thru dropping a pyschodelic, engaging in spiritual ritual or tantric sex..is to be in effect an outlaw..

to leave civilian status behind in search of a greater truth..

I hold to no one truth…I dislike dogmas of all stripes..I am suspicious of the priests, cops, educators, and any self purported expert..however..I do see the need for the wisdom of the culture to be protected and passed..

If you have read this far..thank you..

Just a pile of morning thoughts that rene..(often happens when I read her) has spurred..

What do you think about altered consciousnesses? Does the liminal need safeguading and ritual within this culture?? Leave a comment..

cat.

The Erotic as the whole of life

It’s an incredibly beautiful morning in small town rural Canada.I awoke to the zone of cars on the highway backgrounding the single high note of some small bird voicing its joy.

The sky is bluwashin the world as I know it, dappling the spruce hills.The air is spearmint with a touch of the north. It’s the kind of morning that makes you want to roll in the clover,smothered in sweetness.

And from the garret in which I write , I can see the Atlantic, a thin strip of silver foil
flirting in laughter with the shore.

A morning such as this is sight,sound, and scent wrapped in a ribbon of sun, a gift for no particular occassion save existence itself.

*******************************

I made a decision when I began this blog that I would remain with the erotic/broadly writ.
And that works, to a great extent because I have
no desire to jump on to a political soapbox here..I’m quite capable of that in other arenas of my life.

For me, the Erotic is Widely Encompassing
and I draw on mythology, theology, philosophy and the arts to inform the interpretation of my experience.

This blog is a liminal creature , that is, it exists betwixt and between, part confession, part fantasy..but then..isn’t that where our experience of the erotic always lies?

My erotic journey itself is liminal…in that I find myself infinitely an initiate, flirting with the borderlands, ultimately refusing hard and fast definition.

I think of the erotic as a shapechanger,capable of shamanistic flight,that which should, if we live our lives open, forever awe and slightly elude…..

This is why,my vehicles for the expression of the erotic are photography and prose poetry.
Both if done well, reveal the hidden in ways that regular discourse cannot.

They hint at new ways of seeing, alternate possibilities, in the cornucopia of experience
that daily presents us with opportunities to see, really see what might lie just beyond.

When I am on the streets, I am engaging in the practice of keeping my eyes open..taking in with all my senses, what surrounds.
I do not avert my glance when people pass…I take in their stance, their expression, their ambience and ask myself..what is it like to be them..what would it be like to be in that body?

To really open wide to the erotic..which in latin is ..the breath of life..I try to be aware not only of my own inner experience but the life permeating from those around me.

The world cries out for penetration…see me see me it cries, without labels…like the way I am experiencing this morning, sprung fresh and new……

Beauty?

It is strange the appetites.There is the appetite for lust. Then, there is the appetite for Beauty….
Beauty being subjective and happened upon in the oddest and ugliest of moments.
Beauty being that strange hunger that mixes with sorrow and catches in the base of your throat, making a little sound escape.
I cannot speak for a man, but I DO know this..you hunger for it also. It cannot be owned or it eludes.
For me, I bow in reverence to Beauty/ it humbles one.
I have a whole body response to its mysterious appearance..I ache from somewhere in my core..I feel in its prescence the urge to cry.
My fingers tingle..the desire is to reach toward..to close my eyes and feel the shape of its message.
Beauty humbles the visual sense to take it in almost begs a lowering of the eyes , so that one might FEEL it with the other senses.
In these things have I found Beauty..
the Misfit on the streets..
a twisted tree stripped of bark
a teasing child begging to be chased
a word hovering between your Mouth and Mine
and the cast of Light, everywhere ..
everywhere..
in Aesthetics, with photography and other
artistic mediums one is taught to
look beyond the surface
to look at the space that surrounds an
object, to see the negative prescence..
the tricks of light..
The Phantom is always Present..waiting
to be revealed..
I cannot imagine living unaware of the
Phantom, and not paying homage to it.

Some do.
I watched dawn this morning alone..
momentarily a line of telephone
poles stretched as a row of crucifixes
silhouetted against the hills..
a trick or the Phantom? the reality that
lies behind all things?
Does it Matter?
It moved my throat…

Beauty ..that strange
Silence/that moves me to the
smallest of Sounds..

Babiblue Skies and Silver White Dime of a Sun.Yes!

What a scrumpdilicious day here in the heart of downtown!

I bounced out into noon, in my brooks brown worn runners, my son’s stretch ribbed navy t..my soft as flannel denims, sloping off my hips, and my ubiquituous blackshades, copper hair in a top knot,falling, falling, curling..

Skies baby blue, sun white as a silver dime, and laughter like some frolicking god resounding off the curbways, clapboarded chaos of history,  unsung joy from the rooftops, echoing back and forth across the harbor between the hills.

I am a postcard, winged feet, heart on a string, streetcat for my loves…

my boys

my words

my flowers

my Lucifer

some days, some days, it just doesn’t get any better.

Happy.

poecatt