Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Leave your bar high, just accept that you can't always stand that tall....

We sat outside the ER in the cool air of the morning. i'm sure he could see the tears pooling in my eyes....i know he saw the breath that pushed them back and away. He laughed, in that quiet and assured way he has, that way i've come to enjoy.

"If you only knew the ones i've watched cry around here he chuckled as he drew on his cigarette. You're still standing kid....what are you worried about? And they're only tears, if you must let 'em go, tomorrow will be another night, and there will be another after that."

It wasn't that his words were all that reassuring necessarily, but simply that he accepted where i was, maybe the knowledge that he'd been there before, that he'd watched others in the same place, maybe it was the sweet smell of nicotine slowly wafting in my direction but there was comfort there.

I hate not playing at the top of my game, i hate losing face in front of people that are supposed to respect me, especially doctors. I hate sounding blonde, ever, in front of these people. There is one realm that I keep control in and that is within the walls of that hospital.....last night i barely kept my head on straight, barely kept control and almost at some moments lost it completely and became a mess of frustrated tears, pushed too far, run too hard. I find it hard to forgive myself for that, for not being better, for not running faster, thinking smarter, catching on more quickly. I owe that to my patients.

Deep down inside me somewhere i know i'm holding the bar too high at this moment simply for the right to beat myself over the head with it. It wasn't meant to be easy, this whole move, this change. This is a whole new scope of practice, not just a new specialty but a whole new paradigm of nursing for me. Of course i'm supposed to be instantly perfect at it and never miss a step - i'm really good at setting those realistic expectations for myself.

This will pass, give it a few weeks and i'll settle into what this is like, alone in the ER amongst the insane fray of what this job now is. There will come a day when i get back my control. Funny for a girl that generally hates having it when it comes to work i can't stand losing it.

In time i'll reach my own bar again.....and inevitably find some way to raise it higher.

Such is the beautiful challenge of life.

I truly am a masochist at heart... *shakes head*

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Prude or Proud

i find myself wondering in recent weeks if in my old age, if i'm becoming a prude. (oh my god i turn 30 in May *weep*) (please know there's a good bit of sarcasm at calling myself old, but it mixes with a good deal of angst over turning 30)

i even inquired of a close friend that knows well of my kink about this. He laughed heartily, then spit back amongst laughter the retort, "You a prude? That's almost as laughable as calling yourself a virgin!". i was somewhat comforted by this reaction, it came from his gut, he didn't have to think about it, for these type of reactions i treasure him deeply.

Anyways, to the point, the world of quick sex, one night stands and the like seems to be relatively far behind me now. I understand, respect and appreciate those that live by the Ethical Slut ideas, however i have come to understand through time, trial and heartache (joined with a good number of smiles and laughs, and some really amazing moaning) that it is not a code i personally can live by. My heart is too tender, too longing to go to another to make this type of lifestyle something i can comfortably live. My psyche simply cannot handle it. Sex for me is tied to intimate emotions, deep feelings coming from my heart. Submission is so much more so.

Before anyone flames me because they read the above statements to mean that those that are "ethical sluts" do not have tender hearts. i make no assumption of who or what anyone else is, i am simply understanding what i am, what my mind and heart at this time and place are able to feel and survive.

So back to the idea of being a prude. If one desires to ride the ride long enough, they will realize that inside this prude who cannot just give her body to win a moment of sexual gratification without connections and strings, is one of the most vivacious sluts out there. i have always been and remain proud of my slut title. However, understand that my slutdom is reserved for the one i love, trust and feel connected to, i am a slut for my One, not the world.

Now, understanding this for myself and practicing it in the real world, especially in the real world of BDSM seems to be exceedingly difficult. I've been told at times that my refraining from sexual activity in the early stages of getting to know someone is not submission, i've heard a number of lines lately....all in regards to giving up my body to get to that trust and relationship-y stuff. i'm monumentally tired of the expectation that because i'm a submissive i should put out early and earnestly and then i might see the return. Where is the respect in that? Why is that seemingly in this day and age a requirement of a submissive. If you'd like to see my submissiveness there are many beautiful ways to elicit it without me on my knees sucking a cock.

If a Dom, if a Man cannot take the time, use their imagination and believe i am worth that effort, i'm not inclined to put out. Does this make me a prude? Does this mean i'm trying to hold control that as a submissive i should not hold? Or does this mean that i'm a woman and a submissive that respects herself enough not to give my body until something real has formed, until the trust and communication i have come to believe are so fundamental in BDSM relationships has at least a chance to take root. Has my heart become too guarded and i hide it behind reserving my body?

These are the questions i'm struggling with. Now my previously mentioned dear friend, when posed with this same line of thought and questioning explained to me how he'd romance me. I must say, he made me swoon for days over the ideas he put forth. He speaks of wining and dining and woman he cares about, dropping careful hints and innuendos, teasing, making strategic Dominant moves to elicit the submission he desires. He speaks of treating me as the woman he respects and desires and slowly, carefully, quietly demanding the submission we both need until i'm falling to my knees begging for Him to take me.

i've had no success in finding this type of Man, this Dom who is willing to endeavor in this type of investment, waiting patiently and quietly for the sexual gratification, knowing the taste of some things is far sweeter when you've worked for and waited for them.

So, i'm curious, what do you think? Prude or proud? Have i set the impossible bar, do i ask too much, or have i settled for too little before....

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Some Hurts You Cannot Take Away, Somethings only time heals.

For as long as i can remember i've been a caretaker, a provider, a shelterer and a protector. At times its gotten me in trouble but for the most part i've found it the only beautiful way i know how to live my life. My heart was born and made to soothe, to comfort and to love and i've left what i consider, a beautiful legacy, of doing these things. I may never make a huge impact upon the world, but i've impacted people and it is enough, it is often overwhelmingly enough.

But there are things one slowly learns they cannot heal, breaks in the heart and the facade of our daily armor which no amount of soothing or outpouring of love can take away in an instant. Pain is the building block upon which we learn to appreciate our joys and savour our happiness, a necessary part of life, an inescapable reality and no matter how much one longs to soothe, to please, to help and to take away the hurt in this world, it is an impossibility.

It is not in the moments of my own pain that I generally run into the most trouble. I have learned through time and trial to attempt at the very least to look outside my own moments of suffering and to attempt to appreciate them more for the character building and lessons learned, such an outlook, while sometimes completely unsuccessful, generally eases the burden at least by a few stones. It is the moments however when i look upon a loved one's pain, their hurt, their fear and know that no measure of love, kisses, hugs, soothing or even medication is going to dull the excruciating ache that bears down upon their hearts and their lives. It is an intolerable moment, that longing to take away something which another must go through, the need to relieve suffering that cannot be relieved.

It has been my greatest stumbling block, the feeling that drags me into the deepest pit of heartache, to watch those i love suffer and stand by ineffectually offering what i have but knowing it is insufficient to relieve. I loathe this feeling, i long for more control, more ability, more correct words, more angel touch.

But sometimes only time heals wounds, sometimes one can only stand by and offer to wipe away tears. Sometimes I have to realize that even i can't be superhuman and relieve the pain of all those around me. I don't like that realization.....i wish things were as simple as kissing away a booboo. I wish this didn't hurt so much.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Its a Phish Day....




Because its fun, and its lovely and its silly and its one of those kinds of days.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Maybe.....



i remember the day i fell in love with him, like it was yesterday, like it hadn't been marred by all the nasty stuff that got in the middle. No part of me has ever forgotten for much more than a moment how much i've loved him, though i've often questioned why or questioned what i was supposed to do with that. it continues to escape me even after all this time, how i'm supposed to get over him, and that, well perhaps that's the scariest part.

i remember the first time he sang my lullabye, and the last. i sing it softly to ani sometimes now, watching how her little breath slows to a regular soothing lullabye of its own, and i wonder what it would have been like to rock our baby like that.

And now his voice whispers in my ear again, and remember how, once upon a time, i was almost his baby and that was the only place i longed to be. I remember how much this song meant to me, how it was one of the few times before he drew so far away that he was able to express true emotion. And now he says all the words, all the things that were necessary so long ago and were never said.

And i cannot help but to be confused.......

i've never loved like this before......and i don't know how to stop, nor do i know how to go forward.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Musical Gifts



Someone gave me the gift of this song awhile back. For a long time its been on my play list, on my ipod, i keep it close. I never looked up the words until last night in a fit of curiosity, i just knew, that it made me feel good.....

i love it more today...and i thank the one who gifted it to me.

English translation:

Life changes its beauty all the time
Sometimes it’s a shade, sometimes life is sunlight
Live every moment here to your heart’s content
The time that is here may not be tomorrow

One who loves you whole-heartedly
It is difficult meet that person
If there is someone like that somewhere
That person is more beautiful than all
Grab onto that (person’s) hand
He or she may not be so gracious tomorrow
Live every moment here to your heart’s content
The time that is here may not be tomorrow

Taking the shadow of your eyelashes, when someone comes near
You try to reason with your crazy heart
Your heart just goes on beating
But think, that which is here now
That story may not be here tomorrow
Life changes its beauty all the time
Sometimes it’s a shade, sometimes life is sunlight

Live every moment here to your heart’s content
The time that is here may not be tomorrow
The time that is here may not be tomorrow

Saturday, December 13, 2008

I believe in Fairytales....

I like romantic movies, of the sort where the perfect man and the perfect woman still exist, and momentarily they do something stupid, but you can see how perfect they are, and it all comes out just perfect in the end. I don't care about the impossibility of it, that men aren't that sensitive, that women don't communicate ever for 2 hours without the use of passive aggression; it makes me feel, for a brief moment of time, warm fuzzy sweet hope. Hope in a world that loves these days, to be entirely too bleak and pessimistic.

I like love letters read from old musty books and gallant men on white horses, i like the idea of the damsel in distress that gets rescued by their white night or her strong, gorgeous "good" vampire hero. I like to believe, while you're rolling your eyes, in the inherent good in the world too.

Call me naive.

Maybe its just what keeps me hanging on when my heart wants to shatter against the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, movies and a silent hope that there is in fact something different hidden somewhere in the world. But that's okay - it keeps a smile on my face and much more warmth in my heart, that perhaps, in vain shred of belief, so i'll keep it. I'll believe in fairy tales and glass slippers and gallant men, i'll believe in the possibility of hope and less suffering for the good guys, and that karma slaps the bad and my step will remain a little lighter, and all will be okay in my world. And if i'm wrong....well...so be it....a little hope never hurt no one.

So if you're inclined to burst my bubble....don't....maybe you should build one of your own. Its not that i'm not aware of the possibility i believe in unicorns which could never exist in this world...i just choose to believe anyway and maybe, they'll come to life.....