Angels don't eat fairies, though

[from a silly Sunday comic: prefaced by "fairies have insect wings, and angels have bird wings. Birds eat fairies."]

There feels as though there is very little time to blog, and (with that) very little time to process. I suppose I always feel that though-- a kind of suffocating, overwhelming sense of 'there's something important that I need to be doing' that contributes to my constant denigration of myself. But anyways.

Friday, dancing with SJ again-- First of all, left the house in a heavy thunderstorm, with tornado warnings. On the way out of the door, my mother screamed at me that I was a fucking idiot, as lighting flashed. I lived, obviously. Later, was forbidden (by SJ) from wearing my watch. [for me, this is big. I constantly and compulsively check my watch.] In lieu, I was presented with a pair of purple restraints, which were worn out to MSR. Saw the drag show, danced dirty, then proceeded to the 'cottage'. (Was apparently commented about muchly to SJ.) I have mixed feelings about going out with that sort of marked "ownership", albeit for a short time period-- I know I like to be submissive (oh, yes) and that was a hell of a turn-on, but the loss of some degree of independence, while contributing to the overall submission factor, also irritates me somewhat. I guess I just want to be able to flirt with anyone and everyone that appeals to me(or, as my pattern goes, flirts with me.) [I'm sure I'll get more into this later ] So, the 'cottage'-- real restraints and rope, a spreader bar, just extra-light stuff, except a little bit of choking. (First impression: 'what the fuck??' *ensuing panic*; subsequent impressions: 'well, I can still breathe for the most part' and getting too caught up in coming, then starting to like it.) I made SJ come like crazy, which was gratifying but a little disappointing for me at times because it was often when I was close but not there. Luckily, there were many more gos :P Overall: was fun (very), but I feel kind of off about it, maybe because I'm not crazy about him-- which is not to say that I don't like him, because otherwise I wouldn't be doing this, it's just... well, I'm making comparisons, when I probably shouldn't be. But that's a bit off-topic. I'm getting better at asking things properly, but there are times when I'm a bit too lippy to be classified a Good grrrl... but then, a little bit of naughty just makes things more fun. :P
Saturday morning I drove home, tried to get some work done, then met S, C, and SJ at the cottage again. There was cooking, naked hot-tubbing (S, C, and I. Not sexual, fyi), laughter, and a bit of fumbly-ness on the part of SJ (cute.) It was really nice to get to talk to C more, and S and C's interactions are adorable. Soon after dinner (I cooked! Not up to my usual standards, but my excuse is I'm out of practice. Lots of nutritional yeast made up for what it lacked, though :P) and special cookies, S and C departed for the hot tub again, and SJ and I stayed in on the couch. Later, after some hot tubbing of our own, we retired to the bedroom... this time, there was a little more stuff that I haven't experienced before-- briefly, a flogger and paddle; some frontal spanking... I guess I'm a little filthier than I used to be-- I remember not liking some things when JF did them, but that might have also been because he had no idea about topping (either proper practices or otherwise. Another reason JF and I weren't wonderful together: we're both bottoms.) I liked the vulnerability of it, the power play-- as a bottom, I still felt like I had a lot of power (especially with how many times he came, it was pretty amazing. I guess that's what some of my other lovers must have thought of me :P) Complaints: I couldn't seem to come as well as I usually do. I was certainly turned on, but something wasn't hitting right. That's not to say that I didn't, because I made the properly phrased requests that I knew would get me off, but I would have liked to match him in notching up the orgasms (ha. competitive rubbish.Yes, I know sex isn't all about the orgasm.) So yeah, much fun. Plus, I get the feeling it'll get better as we play some more (as well as venturing into realms yet undiscovered by yours truly.) Part of my hesitation about this all is that I feel like he's getting waaay more into me than I am into him. I don't think that he's under the impression that I'll be exclusive (I should clarify this before I cause trouble, though... not that I anyone in mind) but he started talking about stuff way in the future, and that made me nervous (I don't like to make assumptions and/or promises I can't keep.)
I think my issues with it were also heightened by the aftermath of my usual strong wave of emotion when J called (before going to the cottage Sat night.) Whenever I'm on the phone with him I feel so dumb, like there's so much that I want to say but it all disappears, and then I'm just overcome with the yawning gap in my chest where a bit of my heart feels like it's been ripped out. (Wow, way to go me: I've got the angsty emo drama down-pat-- but we knew that already.)
Also Saturday before returning to the cottage, my mom asked me about whether MSR was a gay bar or not, so I told her, and she reacted weirdly, and said something like "but I thought you were bi", which was really fucked up and made me really upset. I ran away for a bit, and then soon after approached her and asked her what she was talking about. She said that she thinks that I'm very susceptible to my surroundings, and that if I was only going to gay bars all the time, then I wasn't giving myself an "equal opportunity", as well as the same old stuff about it being a hard lifestyle. I acknowledged that sometimes I can be swayed by my surroundings, but I told her that I was going to dance and relax, and it wasn't her choice, or my choice. I kind of wish that I'd said that maybe this was my balancing, my "equal opportunity" if you will, of the years of straight dating JF. At some point, I also remember pointedly asking her if her concern had anything to do with the possibility of not having grandkids by me (she didn't answer.) All in all, her reaction appalled me. For someone so liberal, she's so close-minded when it comes to her daughter... but then, at least I'm able to tell her, I'm so thankful for that.
Today, my eating was fucked up majorly. But hey, that's what Easter is for, right? By all rights, I should have thrown up around twice by now. With my eating habits, I'm really surprised that I'm not so much bigger than I am... I can't even sleep (or am not even attempting to) because I have so much sugar coursing through my veins... it's really gross. More than putting on weight, it's this weird-ass binge cycle, this lack of a grip on self-control, that scares me. I really need to establish my self-trust, and my therapist gave me an eating plan to help that, and instead I fuck it up royally, and I feel that much worse for letting someone else down as well as myself. (But berating myself will only make it worse. Tomorrow is a new day.)

Falling down to get back up

I started counting calories again today. Initially, I was going to do it to lose weight again, and I'll admit that's still part of it, but not in the same old keep-myself-under-1200-and-kill-myself-running bullcrap. I don't want to feed into my eating disorder, but I also need to get some balance, and if counting calories helps, I'll do it. I'm approaching it as taking care of myself, though. More of the tone of writing stuff down so that I am holding myself accountable and am aware of what I am eating, so that I am present in that moment and enjoying what it is I'm putting in my mouth. So far today has been very successful, and I'm hopeful for the rest of the week. The plan is to continue like this until I feel stable, and then by then I will have the body trust to not need to count or write anything.

(I drew the picture above today as part of my self-care)


Yesterday I realized another strong fear of mine (as well as rejection): being forgotten. I guess that's why I'm always so honored when friends of mine from Copenhagen or Italy or England are so enthusiastic about the idea of visiting with me, even if we haven't communicated in yonks. And why I used to write--and ideally would still like to be writing (same old theme as all the classic poets, I know.) It's like Shelley (Percy Bysshe)'s Ozymandias, forgotten though he was apparently so powerful:

Ozymandias

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

I don't have an empire or statues or even anything dedicated to me (as far as I know), and I don't need to be publicly remembered. I like attention, but that's far beyond what I want. What I would like is to have a lasting impression on all the people that I have a connection with. I don't need to inspire or change, but just leave a little indentation, a little mental or emotional 'Emma was here'. It's a selfish impulse, but I hardly think it's uncommon. It's like with T in Morton-- I took up the challenge because I wanted to see my effect (that's twisted.)-- and even with A, though in a far broader sense. Or maybe I just want feedback, want to know how I'm read so I can adjust it if it's in disparity with how I want to be? I know sometimes my meaning is interpreted differently than I intend, but is that because the other people are seeing what they want to, or because there's something off with my transmitter? (I just got an image of Batty from Fern Gully, with his little radio wires popping out of his head. I do feel like that sometimes-- though usually in the context of spouting random things because my conversational skills could use some help :P )
"Yo, the name is Batty / The logic is erratic / Potato in a jacket / Toys in the attic / I rock and I ramble / My brain is scrambled / Rap like an animal, but I'm a mammal."
(yep, Batty from Fern Gully, doing his rap.)

I just realized that I quote Batty almost every time I put on my glasses or contacts around somebody: "I can see! It's a miracle!" (I am aware that this may come from something else originally, but knowing how often I watched Fern Gully when I was ickle, I'm fairly certain I picked it up from here.) xD

Some new-age wisdom

I got this off of Heather Corinna (http://femmerotic.com/journal/) and it touches on a lot of stuff I've been contemplating of late:

"There is a Tibetan teaching that is often translated as, “Self-cherishing is the root of all suffering.” It can be hard for a Western person to hear the term “self-cherishing” without misunderstanding what is being said. I would guess that 85% of us Westerners would interpret it as telling us that we shouldn’t care for ourselves—that there is something anti-wakeful about respecting ourselves. But that isn’t what it really means. What it is talking about is fixating. “Self-cherishing” refers to how we try to protect ourselves by fixating; how we put up walls so that we won’t have to feel discomfort or lack of resolution. That notion of self-cherishing refers to the erroneous belief that there could be only comfort and no discomfort, or the belief that there could be only happiness and no sadness, or the belief that there could be just good and no bad.

But what the Buddhist teachings point out is that we could take a much bigger perspective, one that is beyond good and evil. Classifications of good and bad come from lack of maitri. We say that something is good if it makes us feel secure and it’s bad if it makes us feel insecure. That way we get into hating people who make us feel insecure and hating all kinds of religions or nationalities that make us feel insecure. And we like those who give us ground under our feet.

When we are so involved with trying to protect ourselves, we are unable to see the pain in another person’s face. “Self-cherishing” is ego fixating and grasping: it ties our hearts, our shoulders, our head, our stomach, into knots. We can’t open. Everything is in a knot. When we begin to open we can see others and we can be there for them. But to the degree that we haven’t worked with our own fear, we are going to shut down when others trigger our fear.

So to know yourself is to forget yourself. This is to say that when we make friends with ourselves we no longer have to be so self-involved. It’s a curious twist: making friends with ourselves is a way of not being so self-involved anymore. Then Dogen Zen-ji goes on to say, “To forget yourself is to become enlightened by all things.” When we are not so self-involved, we begin to realize that the world is speaking to us all of the time. Every plant, every tree, every animal, every person, every car, every airplane is speaking to us, teaching us, awakening us. It’s a wonderful world, but we often miss it." --Pema Chodron

It's also closely related to the Osho I've been reading-- he's talking about something different (happiness vs. pleasure), but it boils down to the same essentials:

"If you are strong, then you are ready to fight. If you are weak, then you are ready to fly, to take flight. But in neither case are you becoming stronger. In both cases the other has become the center of your mind. These are the two attitudes, fight or flight, and both are wrong because through both the mind is strengthened.

Patanjali says there is a third possibility: Don't fight and don't escape, just be alert. Just be conscious. Whatsoever is the case, just be a witness. Conscious effort means, one, searching for the inner source of happiness and, two, witnessing the old pattern of habits. Not fighting it, just witnessing it."

It may seem like these really aren't all that related, but they both come down to what Osho calls cessation of mind, and Pema Chodron calls becoming friends with yourself. To giving up the fight in order to win it. This has a lot to do with many things in my life, from my tendency to want to run away from responsibility(moving from England to WA to Atlanta and possibly back again?), the ways I try to deal with my eating disorder (alternately fighting and fleeing), relationships, the way I communicate... the more I read things like this the more I get sucked in by this promise of calm, of balance.

I must admit when I first started reading things on the same sort of wavelength (the Alchemist, Siddhartha, Osho, the Tao te Ching, etc.) I was more than a little skeptical. But then, despite my doubts, something resonates with me and I feel like they're bringing me back to the resources of my own soul. Which is what I need, and what I want: it always has been my goal to be independent. (I don't mean fiscally.) Reading these has made me realize that I don't need to be isolated to be independent.

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Ok, "deep" stuff aside, I've been making some plans with some of my friends for my visit to England in May, and I am so excited. I get so hyper about it that I will literally scream and clap my hands. Yes, I am a big kid. Yes, I love it.