If You Care To Find Me, Look To The Western Sky...

I am on a 4-day vacation, well a stay-cation, but it is nice to have some extended down time, and hours that needed to be used at work. I spent the entire first day sleeping, I woke at 3:20 pm and could not for the life of me tell if it was am or pm, it looked the same ( I work night shift, so my days are nights and my nights are days)

I lingered in the shower sipping my coffee. Yes, I took a beverage into the shower with me, I enjoyed the warmth of my coffee and the warmth of the water washing over my body. Scrubbing, shaving, shampooing, soaking. Cozy clothes were slipped into and onto the couch to camp out to watch a couple episodes of Lucifer., with the dog cuddled next to me. 

Laundry tumbling, dishes done, candles burning and lights down low, soft music playing in all the rooms. I nest in front of the computer and edit a book I am writing. I do my best writing at 3 a.m., my little house surrounded by darkness.

I ran my fingers through my hair and thought “it is time”, I turned on some heavier music, feeling the beat and the words. I picked up the clippers, selected the guard, looked in the mirror, nodded and  lifted the clippers to my head.  Such a freeing feeling, shedding a layer of fear and doubts.  I felt so much lift from my chest, tears ran down my face. I felt that I now can focus again. I again looked into the mirror and saw myself, a tear streaked face, puffy eyes, and  bits of hair stuck all over me, and I… smiled.

I love this song for freaking much!!

you ever just sit in the nights darkness, filled with a fire so passionate you cannot explain 

a little cooking in the night, nothing fancy. A simple flat iron, with garlic butter and herbs.  Love my nights of dancing freely around the house, music turned up, candles flickering as the only light source. perhaps  a glass of wine to enjoy.  A simple night alone

Tarnished Armor 

It almost always seems the story plays out that  a knight in shining armor, comes thundering in on  his mighty steed. With a broad sword drawn ready to save the damsel in distress.  

I say why? Why a knight in shining armor? Why must he look impeccable in his glinting steel?  

I do not need nor want a knight wearing this armor to come to me.  I want and desire the knight who has dragged himself through battle. Bloodied by his wounds alongside  those he fights with.

My knight should have armor that has been dented and pierced from many blows and strikes. Armor that has been tarnished by sweat and tears.  Armor the conceals in the dark of night 

A knight who wears armor which  shines under the sunlight, and gleams  in moonlight, armor without any stain. Has not stood in the battlefield leading his troops . But remains at the horizon seated on a hill crest watching his  men fall in battle and barks orders to seek victory in his name. 

The one who’s worn the tarnished armor has fought in many battles and knows the evils the takes place on the battlefield and in the nightmares which  bring the past to present 

The tarnished armor does not claim to be perfect and more regal and more valued.  The tarnished armor will give thoughtful council. He will sit against the wall listening and watching, his stories are only revealed as needed and only to improve a situation. 

While the shining armor will boast and tell tales of all they have done and seen.  Making the stories more grand as the crowds gather. 

Tarnished armor protects a loving heart. 

Have you ever screamed so loud and so hard that there was no sound? The silence was so deafening, and  you feared your head might explode. That the scream shakes your entire body and you are racked with pain so excruciating that you want to rip your heart from your chest, hurl it towards the Abyss to be devoured by the darkness. Only to dive in and swim downward to find it still beating, and place it back into your chest. The icy waters no longer pierce your skin, no longer in pain  

   I will not be a gift, to be presented wrapped in fine papers, taped and bowed.  I am not a thin etched crystal trophy set upon a mantle to be gazed on.

   My submission is not a gift to say “ oh I will submit to you I am this most precious gift you will ever receive “ submission is not a gift. 

   Gifts are  of baubles and books. Items to bring  smiles when unwrapped, a ceramic. A book of quotes . items searched for and given at any time as you are never far from my thought - those are gifts. Gifts are items of oddity and whimsy and practical engraved knives. It is an ear, a shoulder. It is edged  rocks under bare feet.

  My submission is not a gift, I am not draped in a giant bow. My submission is not a gift with a receipt to be returned or used as a re-gift at the office white elephant Christmas party. 

   Submission is no gift nor is Dominance. It is each, it is flesh and bones. The  strengths and weaknesses. It is every tear and laughter. It is smiling up to you, and learning to kneel, It is blurting out everything that scares me. It is every hope and dream. It is every adventure together to be had, every thought to share, every strife to tackle and overcome. Every dull moment and every passion. It is the barren times and the times of fruitfulness. 

I am not a prize, I am not a princess, I am not wrapped all in ribbons and bows. I am not to be worshiped  for being a submissive. The gift is made within the two, not of by one. I am not a gift. The gift is the pair working together, fighting together, one leading and one following, questions, answers, firmness, gentleness, stern and soft. It is the doubts and holding each other up, it the sickness and laughter. 

I have a soul. I have a voice, filled with desires. I have a yearning to serve. I have the doubts of failing. I have a fight that burns slow and strong. I will rip open my chest and flames will erupt. I will  reduce those to ash of those who breach my walls . I will stand steady and strong.I am foible and I am conviction. I am evil and I am virtuous. But I AM NO GIFT.

Progress slow and steady  there is only about an 8lb difference between the pics  I started pushing myself in May when I turned 50  weights and cycling 10miles a day plus Pilates and yoga. And I gave up bullshit  I turned myself around and changed my path  

I do get frustrated when the scale hardly moves  but the measurements and clothes don’t lie  my energy is up and I have a healthy relationship with food for the first time in my life as I have had an eating disorder for since my teen years and in healthy recovery now.