Hidden In Plain Sight

That there are 85 pages of public blogs, written by different people?

Going back 6 years.

How cool is that?

You will hate yoga for the first year. This is what I tell everyone who decides they want to try it. Why do I tell them this? Because it’s the truth. There are no quick fixes with yoga. There is no adrenaline rush. There is a little dopamine hit… but nothing like compared to running or gym or something like CrossFit.

It will make you feel awkward, clumsy, uncoordinated, and weak… if you’re doing it properly… and have a good teacher.

Sounds appealing right? Lol.

After a year you begin to understand what yoga is truly about. It’s about learning your body. Connecting with it. Getting to know it. And accepting it. I don’t mean acceptance in the sense of the “body love” movement. I mean you truly come to understand it’s strengths, it’s weaknesses, it’s idiosyncrasies… because trust me, we all have them… and we learn that it’s ok. Our body is unique. And it is ours. It is our responsibility to care for. And it will do exactly as we tell it to, within the scope of its accepted capabilities. We begin to understand the meaning of control when it comes to our body. The quality of (sustainable) effort we put in, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back. Let me say that again… 

The *quality* of (sustainable) effort we put into our body, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back.

That is what yoga teaches.

But to truly learn that to a point of *understanding* deeply within our bones, takes time… and dedication. And what I love most? There are no shortcuts.

Once this lesson has been learned, it can be applied anywhere in life. It doesn’t have to be. We can still choose to take shortcuts in life. We will still get quick fixes and instant satisfaction, with a lot less effort. However, applying the yogic philosophy, gives us very different results. Quality.

The only reason I started this blog this way was because I woke up thinking about yoga. It is a passion of mine. I have practiced and loved yoga for over 15 years. However, it wasn’t until I trained to become a teacher that my true love affair with it began. That’s when I began to see it as a life philosophy more than just some poses and stretches. I feel like that’s when I truly began to understand the gift it gives us. Breath and movement. That is life in its most simplistic form.

Ok ok, enough about yoga already.

As I woke up in my neglected bedroom, in my share house, this morning, it occurred to me that although I had considered myself having been in a few relationships since my marriage, there had always been factors that didn’t make it “quite real.” Don’t get me wrong, it felt real… emotionally it was very real. However, even being emotionally invested, every other part of my life remained untouched by the other person. I never neglected my room, or came home to strangers as housemate’s because I rarely saw them anymore. It had never been all encompassing. We’d never gone on walks with each others friends, or played scrabble, or snuggled on a couch. It had become so familiar to me that these things simply weren’t part of my relationships, that I forgot they existed. So much so, that it has been a struggle to remember how to physically connect with someone in the day-to-day. And considering the last person I actually did that with was my ex-husband, it has also been confronting at times, and painful at times, and sad at times. Having said that though… it has also been nourishing beyond belief. My soul finally feels alive again. I hadn’t realised how shrivelled it had become. I am a tactile person. And to be honest, it may sound weird, but there is nothing better for me on this planet, than to lay snuggled up against Him, my body following every detail of His, my head nestled into His shoulder, my face in His armpit, just smelling His scent. lol yeah I’m weird. But those things… touch, warmth, smell, the sounds of His body, His heartbeat. It just simultaneously transports me to heaven, and brings me solely to that moment of U/us, suspended in time. I wish I could bottle it. If there was a “thing,” that would be my ultimate addiction. My ultimate drug.

What on earth does this have to do with yoga?

What I forgot about was how hard relationships are. Trying to mesh two lives together in a way that makes you both feel like it’s worth it. I often hear people speaking of NRE… New Relationship Energy, and how much they love it and how addictive it can be. Yeah, not for me. I hate it. I hate building new relationships. It’s difficult and painful and super vulnerable for me. And to be honest, trying to do it as an adult, mindfully, makes it even more difficult. I always “fell into” relationships more than anything, throughout my life. So trying to do everything with thought and chosen action, is very new territory for me. And there have been many stuff ups along the way. I literally feel like a toddler learning to walk again. It feels like I’ve no experience to go by from my past. Add to that, the desire to try to shift from past negative behavioural patterns and habits, and that adds a whole new fun twist.

But over time… each time we overcome a hurdle… we get a little bit stronger. We trust a little more in the structure of what we’re building and creating. We come to understand that it takes time. And it takes learning. It takes connection. And it takes practice… dedication.

Ahhh… are you beginning to see?

When I apply what I say about yoga, to my struggles…

“You will hate (intimacy) for the first year. This is what I tell everyone who decides they want to try it. Why do I tell them this? Because it’s the truth. There are no quick fixes with (intimacy). There is no adrenaline rush. There is a little dopamine hit… but nothing like compared to (quick fixes).

It will make you feel awkward, clumsy, uncoordinated, and weak… if you’re doing it properly… and have a good teacher.

Sounds appealing right? Lol.

After a year you begin to understand what (intimacy) is truly about. It’s about learning your (relationship). Connecting with it. Getting to know it. And accepting it. I don’t mean acceptance in the sense of the (how we think it “should” be) movement. I mean you truly come to understand it’s strengths, it’s weaknesses, it’s idiosyncrasies… because trust me, we all have them… and we learn that it’s ok. Our (relationship) is unique. And it is ours. It is our responsibility to care for. And it will do exactly as we tell it to, within the scope of its accepted capabilities. We begin to understand the meaning of control when it comes to our (relationship). The quality of (sustainable) effort we put in, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back. Let me say that again…

The *quality* of (sustainable) effort we put into our (relationship), is a direct reflection of what it gives us back.

That is what yoga teaches.

But to truly learn that to a point of *understanding* deeply within our bones, takes time… and dedication. And what I love most? There are no shortcuts.”

… there is a GentleMan somewhere who reminds me that Chivalry isn’t yet dead. I love this ?

I love Men. Thank You for being You. Thank you for making me feel special, it truly is valued and appreciated.

“Parallel lines have so much in common..
It’s a shame they’ll never meet.”

?

She was sure it was over. She’d pushed Him too far. Like everyone, He would leave. She wanted to run far, far away. Her usual response. “I don’t need Him,” she thinks.

But this time she knows that’s not true. This time it’s different… and deep down in the gentle whispers of her heart, she knows she can’t believe that anymore. The thought of not belonging to Him makes it impossible to breathe. What will she do? The panic makes it impossible to think of anything beyond Him. Somewhere though, the stirrings of what she has been given on this journey from the beautiful souls who have nurtured and cared for her, begin to surface. “Be still.” “Wait.” “Allow yourself to be vulnerable.”

She realises that she wants to be tormented for Him… if He so wishes it to be.

‘Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl.’

She remembers the promise.

Obedience. Surrender.

Despite the pain in her heart and soul, she finds solace in knowing that this time will be different. This time she will not try to control the outcome. She will simply wait. She will continue to do her tasks, and she will continue to care for herself. This time, she is different. She is stronger. More wise. Ready.

She will keep her heart open.

Every fear her mind can conjure, rises to the surface. She examines and sits with them all. And she realises it’s ok. She will be ok. Her heart has broken before. She has walked this path before. Always slightly different, but the healing is the same. This time though, He has given her a gift that she can carry that is unlike any before. He brought her back to life.

She had fallen  in love with Him deeper than she ever had in her life. And He hadn’t just broken her. He had crushed her.

But she doesn’t think these thoughts with any hatred. It actually makes her love Him even more. Why?

Because He showed her that under the right circumstances she can truly come to life.

He showed her that with the right person, she could love far beyond what she had ever dreamed.

And He showed her that she could care so deeply that she was willing to give everything of herself.

She had never trusted that she could do any of these things.

So ultimately, He gave her the most precious gift anyone had ever given her.

He’d shown her that she’s not broken like she thought. He not only showed her that freedom actually does exist, but He set her free from herself. From the chains of her past, and from the chains of her mind. She knew that she could live the rest of her days knowing that even once, she did these things and felt it. Home. And even as her heart shatters at the loss of Him, that makes her the happiest she’s ever been.

“Thank You for that gift,” she thinks. “I will cherish it forever.”

Each day she tries not to ask if she can come to Him. And each day He tells her not to, crushing her a little more. Finally, after three days, He calls her to Him. Her heart sinks. She knows it’s to end things. She is just too much. And not enough. She failed at everything. She was too fat, too frigid, too moody, too demanding, too shy, too vanilla, too inexperienced… on and on it went. There was nothing she could offer that would rectify her behaviour. She is simply not enough.

“Do you need anything from me, Sir?” she had asked. A desperate attempt at being open and available to Him while her heart was breaking with the truth.

‘Come and clean my house while I nap, slave, and then we will talk.’

And then we will talk…

And then we will talk…

And then we will talk…

There it is.

As she drives there, her heart is beating so fast she can’t tell if she’s having a panic attack or not. He’s going to have her clean His house, and then dump her. No. Yes. No. Yes. It doesn’t matter… she will clean His house, and she will do so with integrity. The outcome is not hers to control. She will accept whatever comes.

When she arrives, she’s so nervous she can’t even meet His eyes. ‘The dog and I are going for a walk,’ He says. ‘You clean, we’ll talk when I’m back.’

Cleaning brings so much joy to her. It is one area she knows she did well in her service to Him. Maintaining and keeping His home. Just doing the tasks lifts her heart, so she focuses only on each movement.

He returns and calls to her. She climbs into the bed and snuggles into His arms… and waits. He speaks and she listens. He explains how angry He was. How He needed that space to reflect on how best to move forward. How He needed to find a punishment that would help her understand. A punishment? Something vaguely registers. The night He sent her home. The mention of her being punished. How could she have forgotten that? Her panic overrode any logic or understanding.

She speaks. He listens. He is astounded at how far she had gone. That demon mind of hers taking her to the worst case scenarios and convincing her of truths He’d not spoken.

And then here He was. Telling her His truth.

‘You are mine,’ He says.’ ‘I own you.’

She cries. Relief. Love. Adoration. Something in her let’s go and opens to Him. She feels the completeness of her surrender. All her fears fall away and she shows herself in all her vulnerability. And He loves her. And He wants her. And He Owns her.

There is nothing left. She knows this… feels it. There are no more barriers. Her anger is gone. Her fight is gone. She feels safe. He is the One.

have been on many an adventure.

why wait until there is no fear? why not just take them with me?

You…

have changed all of my truths. 

How do you tell a slave girl?

It’s not by the collar around her neck.

It’s by the callouses on her hands. 
The rough patches on her knees.

 The way she carries herself. 
The sparkle in her eye.

How do you tell a slave girl?

 It’s not by the pictures she posts on FetLife.

It’s by the certainty in her voice. 
The way she says His name.

The fullness in her heart. 
The stillness of her mind.

 How do you tell a slave girl?

 She will be the one with purpose. 
Sprinkling a trail of hope, everywhere she goes.

He read an interesting article about orgasm denial…

you can kiss your orgasms goodbye ? 

slave is a title of honour that You bestow upon me.
I will never feel worthy of that title…

but I will always work damn hard, without guilt, shame, or remorse, to earn it.

 ‘My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey.
Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that.

Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl.

I will be quiet for you or sing for you,

or if you are hungry, let me bring you food,

or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby,

even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch.

Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you;

anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do.’