Reflections

Assumptions

2012-01-25T14:33:00.000-05:00

Odd. A simple "hi" leads to an absurdity of complication. I say "we seem to be fellow travelers. Wanna share?" and I get "No thanks. I am not interested in a date". Eh?

Honestly, I am sick to death of the communication problem. It's read into like no tomorrow. This is the kind of thing that drives me away.

Road trip.

I think.

Rejection and self

2010-10-28T22:23:00.002-04:00

The past weekend was very hard. I was told, in a clear way, at a time when further processing seemed unlikely, that my outward appearance was something that drove people away. I was asked if this is what I intended, which was odd.

It took me a long time - the better part of 30 hours - to really process this, and it hurt like hell when it landed. It's taken me 3 days to get out of the worst of the pain of it, and I'm still on the edge. I still am reticent to see others, be around people.

I've a lot of things to reflect on.

It's just that this one is really painful.

Know thyself?

2010-10-19T13:47:00.002-04:00

I'm having a lot of trouble choosing.

That's the simple line.

It's more than that, though, it's a lot about things like taking care of myself, of being ok with asking for what I want and saying what I don't want.

I just don't know where the boundaries are.

In fact, I am often unsure where MY boundaries are, and that speaks to the larger issue.

So in this specific case, I cannot decide what I want to do on a given evening. There are only so many hours in the day and week - how do I spend them? At the same time, there's part of me that is oddly resistant to the interests of a particular person. I find it can smother me at times... but is that the real issue?

And maybe what I am struggling with is how do I LEARN to detect when I am being honest with myself in a way that is clear and open and not disguised as something else?

If I don't want something, then I need to be OK with saying I don't want it. It's a flavor of no, to be sure. And since I don't ask a lot, then it gets sticky quicky for me. Don't ask means I may be prone to BEING asked more, and if I am unsure of what I want AND not sure about saying yes or no, it fast becomes a morass. Then I start to try and piece it together, to make amends, to "perform" so that I won't be subject to disapproval and/or recriminations.

So I am still stuck. Is this boundary stuff? No stuff? Disapproval stuff? Do I feel better, do myself a favor, by saying "no"? Or "yes"?

Privilege

2010-10-11T23:01:00.001-04:00

I have a lot.

so many have so little.

It's time to move on.

Time to give back in more tangible ways, perhaps.

Irrationality

2010-10-11T22:57:00.002-04:00

There's a lot of "stuff" behind my reticence and anger over the camp.

I realize that quite a lot, maybe all of it, is largely irrational.

And that leads me to consider that a lot of it is about my feelings around my father.

So when I say I am harboring resentment, it is not resentment directed towards my siblings, but rather a deeper resentment directed to my now dead father. I push back against "do this, be this person", and that is a lot of what I hear when my brother expresses HIS resentment around the camp. It hits me, andI get irrational, and I fail to see that it is about my own resentment.

Step one: do a better job about taking care of myself. Learn to TAKE that time I need to be whole. Whatever that is, let go, let it happen, do it.

Step two: own this.

Step three: let go. None of it matters in the context of the camp itself. Either use it and like it or let it ALL go.

Choose.

Time out

2010-10-07T09:39:00.003-04:00

[draft for ideas]

Events are not "time for me" they are not "downtime". So when I go, I need to allow for recuperation, down time, afterwards.

My internal creativeness whatever that may be, is stifled. I need to open that up.

Both of the above play into my feeling I cannot achieve intimacy, as I am so wonting for the above that I tend to push back at others in order to try and get it... and since I am not aware that that is what I need or want, that push back comes out wrong and hurtful.

And I am discovering that when I DO allow "time for me", when I let it go, let me take precedence, that it generates useful information and feelings.

Reclaiming the present

2010-09-26T22:20:00.002-04:00

Be present. It is a mantra for many, and it is a good foundation upon which to live ones life. Being fully present is both a wonder and a challenge, and those of us who take on this particular facet (of which it is often part of a larger set of ideas that comprise an entire practice) do so with a willingness and openness that belies the underlying complexity of the simple statement: be present.

What is meant by this? And what are the complexities that make it up?

When we say "be present" we are referring to the idea that one's own mind is often the source of an endless spring of distractions. We sit, and are overwhelmed by the flood of our own imaginations. we thirst, we desire, we despair - it's all part of the process of both being with who we are and of being able to accept it, being gentle with our own selves and of being willing to stand within it but let it go. "thinking!" is often how some teach this.

the mind is a peculiar part of being human (though I will note parenthetically here that I am not at all persuaded that the other creatures, at least many orders of them, are not also victimized by thought, but that's another story). we think, therefore we are. And so it does flow. But when we stop and wonder what it is that is emanating from our minds, it becomes easier to understand not just the process and challenge of sitting, but also of being present and what that truly means.

Much of our lived experience is mae up of things that happen to us. we eat, we drink, we love, we travel, we listen, we hurt - all of these are part of our life experience. It is a sectrum of things that range from the sublime to the evil, the pained, and all of it together comprise what we feel and who we are. and all - all - these things that happen to us happenED to us, they are none of them future events. They all DID happen, it is the past, it is what we do to evaluate much of our experience.

It is also, in a great many respects, essential. But it is not and should not be the means by which we live our present. Lets examine this for a moment. When a child learns to walk, one of the things its parents try to do is to help the child learn about danger. That child, when approaching a busy street where cars or other larger objects may be whizzing past, must learn to stop and look and listen. Without it, there would be no direct experience to draw from to be able to inform future encounters with busy thoroughfares, or at least such informing would be burdened by deep pain. Thus the parents do what they must to instill in the child some sense of how to not be in the world, a way to avoid that potentially heartbreaking mistake. Such is not the case, however, in many other of life's experiences. We may fal ill and need serious medical attention. We may fall in love and, after some time, fall out of that love, leaving one or more of the participants in a state of deep sadness. these and many, most, other of our experiences in life are ways that we ourselves come to build a set of past experiences that inform the present. We FELL in love once, it hurt, and now, if faced with the possibility again, we may choose to remember that experience and perhaps be able to sidestep some of the things that might again lead to pain. this is the past informing our present.

And indeed, all - all - of our experience, our lived life, is made up precisely of these events. Each one becomes oart of who we are, part of our own "dictionary" of how we navigate further, how we live in the present, and, indeed, part of what our mind works with, in wake or in sleep, as we go through a day. It is here that the tumble of thoughts try and pull us out of the reverie of sitting meditation, and it is here that our minds try and bring us when we try and be present.

There are, over the course of a small section of each and every one of our lives, literally millions upon millions of these events. Some are so small and inconsequential so as to be meaningless. some are so routine that their service in our lives is simply part of a larger routinization, a needed process, that helps make life more comfortable. But the large majority of these events are far more than inconsequential. Some of us are comprised of an innumerable number of deep hurts - abuses, pains, neglect of all types - and these have become over time our map of experience. some of us are so deeply affected that we cannot escape the bonds of this past - the hurt is so continuous that it informs all events going forward: the ast becomes the future. Most of us, thankfully, do not suffer this way, but rather manage to manage those events, sorting out the ones of deep pain and setting them far away, or perhaps, if we're lucky, approaching them and with help or great skill, letting them simply be part of our lives. It's all a matter of balance, it's all a matter of how each one of us chooses to make sense of that past, to let it or not let it overwhelm and control us, to dictate the future.

And herein is, I think, the really difficult challenge of really, truly, being present. That flood of thought is our past, it emerges, deftly fooling us into thinking it is our imagination, or fooling us into believing that these are simply thoughts and feelings, too often not connected to some specific part of that past. This is quite normal and understandable, and something that we cannot and should not try to escape or avoid. But herein lies the challenge: when we seek to be "fully present" we are, in essence, asking ourselves to forget our past, to set aside deeply those very events that make us who we are, that sometimes protect us, that make our lives comfortable. We are expecting to be released from ourselves, to be allowed to wander freely in a setting that has no past. This is impossible of course. what, then, is the resolution?

Part of the process, I think, is to be able to take time to examine the self in the context of that jumble of lived experiences, with an eye toward singling out those moments, those events, that have deeply shaped and shaken us. To be able to stand up and tell ourselves that what happened happened, that it is part of that we must accept and embrace, but that it is PAST, not present. Being fully present must, in essence, become an event unto itself, informed by the past but not controlled by it. IT is often a matter of "stepping past" that past event or idea, of letting it go, knowing that it might well happen again. It is risk. It places us in a position of great vulnerability, a place that, often due to that same painful past set of experiences, can lead us to hide, to in effect, avoid being present in a manner that is tempered, and often ruled, by that past. Being fully present is about the now, but must have with it a willingness to open ones heart and mind to the realities, often painful realities, of a lived past, a very real past, that leaves us weak, subject to more pain, more difficulty.

Loneliness

2010-09-09T18:07:00.002-04:00

I got a note back today from someone I've had a mild interest in. It's odd, cuz that interest really has been somewhat muted - yes, I notice an energy we sometimes get, but it's not as though I'm hot for this person, and we've not dated (I hate that word). So for me it is sort of "well, if something more happens ok, otherwise..."

but the reply that was sent leads me to something unexpected.

I'm well aware of how I've changed myself in the past few years. I'm moving closer and closer to a change in me that is core: I'm a trans person, but not in the usual sense. I self identify as co-gendered, a term that leaves most pople shaking their heads - "wtf?"

The reply examined the assumptions that this person knew of themselves, but led then into a kind of "I don't know how I feel about your gender expression" and "I'm not sure if I have the kind of interest in exploring this further due to that gender thing". I wasn't hurt so much by the reply per se - I don't have any stake, so.... does it matter that much?

but I was deeply affected when I reflected on how this kind of reply left me as a person. totally, utterly alone. And this, I think, is the future reality I have to face. It's as though I have finally come face to face with my own change, my own self, my new self, and now I have to either accept it or abort the whole thing.

I've travelled down this unknown road for a while, not knowing anything about the end. I've encountered the kinds of sentiments that let me know that, in the view of some, I am not "trans enough". And I've certainly encountered the views of those that think I am "too weird". I'm both. I don't want, I never wanted, to be this way. But here I am. I have no community, no ties that let me associate with others. I define myself in a way that is utterly singular (am I a singularity??). I need to acept that I will never have partners, never have a relationship. I won't be approached by others who think I am hot, or who want to spend time with me based on who I am as this person.

It's funny. I don't hold any of my own feelings about this against the respondent, but I am now more aware of how the path I've chosen or the path that has chosen me, is, in some ways, a social death sentence. I'm doomed to not be connected. I don't fit in either world. I don't really fit anywhere. And it leaves me sad, despondent, wondering if I should even bother with this whole identity blossom?

The Complicatedness of "Yes"

2010-03-03T08:42:00.000-05:00

I've just (almost, really, only a page or two left) finished reading a chapter in 'Best Sex Writing 200' by Thomas Macaulay Millar - 'Toward a Performance Model of Sex'. It's awe inspiring to me, and raises deep questions about the nature of consent.

That aside, it also leads me to think more clearly about my own foibles around yes and no and "getting any". I've been troubled by this for a long time, maybe most of my life. It's not that I was somehow "raised a feminist" (hardly). Nor was it that I had some epiphany or early gf encounter that led me to the well. Rather, it seems to be a somehow acquired (gradually) process wherein I cannot accept the idea that I can "ask" without playing in to the awfulness of getting a "yes" through a subtle form of coercion, that the women I ask are somehow accommodating my interest. That repulses me. It repulses me primarily b/c I don't think *anyone* should be in the position of having to yield if they are not fully cogent of, fully accepting in themselves of, and fully in touch with, their *own* inner desires. Since I have realized how difficult it is for anyone - myself included - to be deeply in touch with those things, it more or less becomes an intractable problem: how can I possibly *expect* "yes" from another within whom the nascent seeds of any desire are still unfurling? Is it even possible to partake of something as intimate as the dance of sex with another person without risking that loss in one side or the other that capitulates need and desire to that of the other person? I dont yet have the answers to these questions. I just know that right now they are deeply disturbing to me. It feels as though I am somehow "taking away" from the other when I ask and get "yes".

"No", at the same time, is a different facet, harsh, painful, unyielding. True, I've heard "no" described as a way of being positive, of being good somehow and letting the other person know they have a certain freedom. All well and good, but it belies the deeper problem.

Enter Millar's commodity model of sex. We are steeped in a commodity culture. Everything we see, hear, touch, do, sleep, breath, feel, eat, say or do is built on this commodity model. Millar paints a picture of sex as performance using music as the central idea: a musician may elect to *collaborate* with other musicians, and in so requesting ("Would you like to collaborate on this piece?") moves far away from the commodity model. Looking at it in reverse, I imagine what it might be like if one musician asks another "So, how much to get you to play this piece with me?". Sad. If all musical rendering by more than a soloist were constructed this way, we'd all be the poorer. I doubt Lennon asked McCartney this on the threshold of "I am the Walrus". It seems unlikely that deeply felt music emerges from a simple cash transaction: "Will that be Visa or Mastercard?".

What emerges for me here is a different way of approaching my own terror around this. Instead of "would you like to fuck?" (seriously, I've never once actually asked that question but it serves the point here), I could instead ask "I would love the chance to collaborate with you in a sharing of the senses", leaving open ALL the possibilities that such enjoinments might allow. It leaves open all the choices, including "no" (which, interestingly now seems to be come something like "That kind of collaboration isn't possible for me now. I may get back to you if that changes. Thank you for asking me"). "Yes" now becomes an invitation to possibility, and no longer is rooted in "what's it worth to ya?".

Of course, this leaves wide open the larger problem of informing others - potential partners included - of this rather dramatic shift in perspective. After all, since 99% of the western industrialized world (and a distressingly high percentage, growing daily, of the lesser-industrialized world) is steeped in commodity exchange, how are we to cope with a shift in linguistic sensibility that draws not from an actual change in the language used, but rather the subtle shades of the same words which now must be taken on a totally different level? It's easy to take a step toward changing our *own* approach from "Fuck me now" to "Would you care to dance", but that presumes that, along with the conveyance of an inner desire to do *something*, the "other" to whom we are addressing our interest can both pick up (npi), reinterpret, and respond in kind to our beseechments. That's asking and expecting a lot. I would fully expect a lot of weird looks if I simply did this, sans warnings.

One place to begin is education. Certainly, there's a way to this in a shared group setting. That will help, but it's a small step.

I suppose the other obvious place to begin is in direct contact with existing partners with whom I enjoy this kind of sharing. Trying out this model shift, asking to collaborate instead of begging to fuck is an interesting variation on the usual paths to getting together. Certainly the element of surprise here won't, at least I don't think it will, suffer any risk to the existing bonds. The strength of what I have is not predicated on a secure channel of unvarying communication between us.

A side note might be in order here (though this is a book length possibility). Communications among H. sapiens is abysmally bad. For a species that somehow prides ourselves on the model of verbal communication, we are piss poor at it: warring, fighting, bitching, complaining, never getting the message through of what is really wanted or needed. It's appalling, really, when you think about. It's also miraculous, when you think about that, that we have survived as long as we have, despite the instruments fashioned to ensure the efficacy of our mutual destruction. Anyway....

Finally, the last place to test the waters, as it were, might be in ordinary, everyday life. A shift of our habitus. I think of work: what would changes there look like? How often is what I am called upon to do - and the number of face to face transactions (see? there it is - commodity) I actually do these days - something that can be quantified or boiled down to "what's it worth to ya?" or similar linguistic tropes? I imagine what it might be like to effect a transaction in the supermarket, blithely ignoring the non-transactional part (that's the part where I take the food and give them money) of the exchange with the cashier and try and supplant the usual "I'm here to buy shit" with something more along the lines of "how can I collaborate with you [the cashier] to fulfill this process?". Complicated.

So, yes, "yes" is devilishly complicated. Getting there, at any level, anywhere, is a complex and bedeviled series of (mis)steps. It's pre-damaged by an almost innate INability to communicate. "No" is easy. It's very harshness can be a measure of strength. I recall - albeit vaguely - that book of maybe a decade ago, "Getting to Yes", something all about business and how to get to an agreement that both parties like. I haven't seen it in a while. IT leads me to wonder how we got where we are now, and why asking another to share a deeper part of who we are is sadly relegated to "Fuck me for a dollar" and not "share with me some part of you that you love, and I will give it back".

Nexus of Desire

2010-02-21T10:04:00.001-05:00

Since my father's death, I've noticed a subtle shift in the way I intersect with desire.

Prior to his passing, I can say with good assurance that my desire was very clear, strong, directed. I had (still have) good partners, and we enjoyed many an hour or three having good sex of all flavors. There was kink, vanilla and a lot in between. I was rarely one to pass on the chance to partake, and I loved it in a huge variety of places. I never really questioned that. Part of it was my celebration of my body, my willingness and desire to give of myself, to see others experience pleasure.

The shift since perhaps last October has been odd. I still have desire, and while I can't say it is quenched much, the "direction" (vector?) has changed. I still feel a passion for my partners, I still enjoy the sharing, but it has waned a lot in the intervening months. I'm not at all sure why, just that the vector is somehow a mixture of self-reflection brought on, I guess, by the whole process of death and dying and especially when you are left an orphan, and by the inner turmoil brought on by my former spouse (who has taken a decidedly greedy turn).

One other side effect here is that a lot of the issues around jealousy, especially around one partner in particular, have somehow gently wafted away. At times, I almost feel ambivalent towards her, although when we reconnect, which is increasingly rare, I melt back into that wonderful place of a deep love for her. But at other times, knowing she has chosen to spend most of her time with someone else, I am now largely "meh" about that, at times genuinely encouraging her (compersion? me?) to enjoy it, trying, when needed or asked, to be supportive of the foibles and challenges she faces with her other relationships. This is good, but not planned.

I'm left at this point often wondering if I even want to share my desire with others at all. Heading to WF, I wonder about this a lot. So much of push there is about "getting it" and for me, now, I simply don't seem to want it.

Alone time

2010-01-19T20:18:00.000-05:00

Since my dad died, I've changed a lot. One thing that shifted was the time I felt I needed to spend by myself. Seems that's grown a lot. Now, I wonder.

Am I spending too much time alone?

It's not that I've cut off my two main partners, but I clearly am taking a lot of time to be with my own self. Part of that is good. I get to reflect more, think more, be more of who I am. But the downside is that I feel a bit more.... eccentric, like there's something wrong and I am not quite sure what that is.

It's funny, cuz I think now more than ever I have a need to have someone to reflect off of, to pull me up short when I am really in left field and to reinforce things when I'm not.

Challenge here is that the dark side creeps in and I have to work harder to stay that.

Changes

2009-12-30T22:52:00.000-05:00

Bowie said it first.

But it's true. For me, those changes have been little short of monumental since Sept 27th.

I was literally in the car driving back from summer camp when I got the call that something was significantly changed with my father. My sister said she was arriving the next morning. I stopped in and saw him on my way home. There'd been so many situations like this that I really did not expect to find much amiss. He was clearly not in a good way.

He died 10 days later.

I've reflected a lot on the experience since then. Going through death is a unique experience. There's nothing else I've ever experienced that afforded such clarity of mind.

But while that side of it was deep and has left lasting marks, the other part of it was a surprise and, in the end, is my real inheritance from him.

All my fear went away. Okay, maybe not all of it - I suppose there are still moments of anxiety about some things. But the reality of who I am, the real me, that one that had to get of this prison cell - that's the fear that's gone.

There's a new set of fears - reluctances might be a better word if it were one. But now the real me is here. I'm not afraid of that person. I am concerned? nervous? anxious? about who that person might become, might want to become. Do I do that? It feels so far past that in my life - how can I possibly make a change so fundamental to me as the person I've lived inside of for all these decades?

I've talked with several vital players in my life about this. I suspect one of them wonders why I don't take the plunge, change, metamorphose into that other. I'm not entirely sure. Part of me seeks to do just that, but the other aspects of me that I cherish - the drive, the dick, the body I have now - is reluctant to harbor that degree of change, of loss. I've considered cosmetic alternatives - that's a possibility,but I'd need to really consider the consequences. Could I live out that way? Do I want to live out that way?

The journey I'm on now is destined to take me to a forboding place. I know I must do that first.

Then. We shall see.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes

2009-10-30T14:36:00.001-04:00

"Turn and face the strange".

Since my father's death last month, something has changed, deeply, inside me. It's not about that relationship - that was always hard, and of late, very distant.

It's more to do with the growing self-realization, the part of me that now, finally, is starting to know who I am, no longer the definition of someone else.

And with that has come an odd shift in my sex and sexuality and my desire.

Whereas before it often felt (at least it was very vague and undefined) that when, for example, I wore thigh high nylons and walked about with them, it was as though part of me was trying to broadcast a message - "get laid". Was I? I don't know. (And I mean "get laid" in the broadest, most 'meta-' way possible, not just a BDT literal meaning). So when I was noticed, it was a lot about trying to see if what I imagined their conception of the meaning behind it could be something I understood in a way that opened the door to further connecting. That was me, compromising my self, in order to get the connection, whether sexual or something else.

But now, wearing thigh high nylons is more a marker of who I know I am, deep inside. And now it is not a matter of when someone sees me they say "Hotcha hotcha" and "Let's screw" but rather, I wonder, do they see the real me, and do they really know what this means as part of who I am? Do they truly understand that part of who I am, and do they grasp that the symbols are no longer a request for something like sex, but rather now are intrinsic representations or manifestations of the true self?

It is as though the symbolic language I've incorporated into the "me" of the past 15 years has suddenly jelled, morphed, into something at once deeply intimate and strangely unfamiliar. Who IS this odd person? [I KNOW this odd person well]

And with that comes the recognition, I think, that the inner person, though highly desiring of good sex contact and such, is no longer driven to that particular edge based on how I appear, no longer reaching for that fulfillment because of someone's "definition" of "me", but instead stems from a more fundamental place, and an interest in connecting that is totally free and clear of those older, familiar identities.

The person I am, really, now, finds solace, and, I hope, true self-confidence because I AM able to simply express that inner me as I feel it, and not because I am trying so so hard to "fit" into the mold of what others have tried to make me, whether real or imagined on my part.

There is one more sub-barrier, but even that, somehow, feels a lot different. I suspect I will manage to overcome that one with considerably more ease, esp since that relationship as it was is over.

It's both scary and exhilarating.

Head Noise

2009-05-31T07:53:00.000-04:00

The head noise is bad this morning. I got persuaded a long time ago that this never does stop. Meditation and other things do help, but in the end the noise is always there. It is more about what you DO about this that counts.

So at 5 a.m. I am wide awake. *I hate typing* And I start ruminating on the usual stuff.

Not all is bad and ugly,

For example, it came to me that the way to plow through the dissertation is to start with the main question, to elaborate that quite a bit, not necessarily by asking more questions, but posing it in different ways. Then, for each following chapter, restate in some form the main question. This is very effective when I consider the "Why SXM?" chapter. I could start that by asking "If I am interested in technology and how it affects / interacts with the informal economy and tourism then this place is good b/c ..." See how that works? History could start with something too - perhaps "In considering the present and how ITC and I.E. and Tourism intersect, it is useful to look at the past."

But most of it is bad and ugly.

But then the same head noise quickly degenerates into my issues around K and why the relationship isn't working too well, even though part of me knows it is working. The part I am more in tune with now has to do with this sense of having to compete for time and energy and affection. I do not like competition at all, never have, probably never will. But I feel like capturing her attention is a matter of competing for her time. Then of course this whole part spirals down into all the things I hate about myself, which I think I am at least a little better at managing now. That whole cognitive shift bit still is there, for sure, but when I am overtired, and far from home and not at my body best, it is a lot harder to try and avoid the painful parts and to stay aware of how that works.

Part of me knows with certainty that the underlying drive at 5 a.m. is due to the body factors - lack of sound sleep, uneven nutrition, too much wine, off cycle, etc.. But that's not easy to let go of when I am simply lying there wondering it all. It gets away from the rational mind really fast.

I've learned in the past that usually (but not always) simply getting up shifts it around in odd ways, and I'm left with this sense of "WTF?". But underneath that is often a funny sort of body thing - something is off kilter there and I have no easy handle on what it is and therefore even less of a chance to try and fix it.

How can one fix the head noise?

Meditation helps, but does not eliminate. I should do more, but the goals now for me are so different.

Sex is an odd escape. I often find that playing with myself, getting really hard, building the energy that way is a useful escape, but wonder: is it simply an escape? Is it a simplification of things in a way that, like so many other approaches, merely tucks it under the rug kind of thing, leaving the harshness of what it is or might be festering in the back rooms of the head?

Writing is useful at times, but I'm never really sure I can separate myself from the mechanics of it all - I'm left slightly empty by the fact that the damn interface is so limiting. Is it what I really think or feel or is it driven by the curse of whatever I happen to choose as an interface? I think at times real pen and paper wrk better this way, but not always. I lose something "in the translation" which is to say that I never quite feel I capture what is IN my head as Itry and get it out onto a page of any sort.

Challenge time

2009-05-22T09:06:00.000-04:00

If indeed this cognitive shift is real, settled, part of me to the extent that I can ward of demons more aptly, then I wonder: is it time to challenge me ins some way? Should I venture out and find venues that I know from past experience are likely to be hard? Some possibilities:

- Visit my dad. Invariably this pushes huge ugly buttons that leave me breathless with pain at times.

- Stay up too late. I'm a lot better about this one, but I also know that past 1 or so, I move rapidly toward panic. If I chose a weekend with a safe tail, it would be a good experiment.

- Attend large social gatherings and make myself ask for something. This is impending, so it'll happen regardless.

There's also an intersting "companion" to all this: discovering and AFFIRMING what I like and don't like. I can envision this as being across fields of myself, places where, until now, I've often been reluctant to open up to myself. What do I like? What do I dislike? Those two questions alone can span so much of me, so much of the hidden me, that it makes me tired jus' thinkin' about it! But it is, I think, a very real possibility.

Part of this stems from my reading of Orloff, suggested by a dear friend (thank you!). It's not just about opening up my intuition, but as much about sensing, becoming sensitive to, my own limits and desires. She talks (or is going to talk) about overload and has talked about pace. When I did that particular exercise the other day, I was a bit startled by the rapidity of the result. It was clear and unambiguous. In sensing my own pace, I am in a very real sense connecting with my own needs and desires. If my pace is such that I am capitulating a lot, my own needs and desires are being shunted. I would do well to unlearn that, to learn how to manage my pace in a manner that suits me.

And not forget to not be mean in the process.

Difficult moments and fucked up dreams

2009-05-21T09:12:00.000-04:00

It finally got a little nicer weatherwise here. It's odd to see after so many cold gray crappy days.

So I worked outside last night until 7. It was nice to do, to connect that way, to have my own space to do it the way it suited me. Not in any sort of cantankerous fuck you I never liked your way way, but more a finally I can just let go of that past and move ahead way. It was nice. Of course, I got sore. It's my own fault, I know. I haven't been doing the requisite back exercises, and I am under-exercised due both to medical and weather, but still...

A quiet evening alone was the ticket. An hour phone call with a soon-to-be playmate was nice, even thought I was frustrated about the likely need to cancel a planned visit to her. Vehicles can suck at times, Bad cash flow can suck even more!

I turned in late, and didn't even douse lights til almost midnight. I was surprised to then wake up, body hot, at 4:06, and toss and turn a lot. I finally decided after some false stops to shave and then have a little play, which of course cycled on and off - that wonderful tantric-like energy flow - I love that in the morning. THEN, of course, I fell back to sleep.

And those fall back to sleep dreams - they are WEIRD. This was no exception.

I'm at a banquet of some sort. The dining room is long, with a bit of a curve. I am sort of in line to get my food The plates are all individually separated by a cloth napkin and a tarnished silver platter like thingy. I take my plate (the napkins are just there to separate - napkins for eating are at the tables). The first food area is lasagna. There are several types, two primary variants. The main type is more or less conventional lasagna, but is really pretty. IT is cut perfectly clean and square, and looks almost like a plastic mime. The other type they call "British Lasagna" and I have no clue as to what it is. There is a lot less of it, and the pieces are quite small. It is dense looking, dark red, pungent. I take a piece and it sits on my big plate next to the regular beauty pageant lasagna. I move ahead. By the time I get to the next separate table of food - just vegetables and not too many of them - it looks like my beauty lasagna has somehow slipped right off the plate. There's not a trace of it. The British Lasagna is still there, clinging, stuck, to the plate. But no regular. Odd. So I move on, taking some green beans. I can't quite picture what was next, maybe nothing, but I do recall then turing round the last table to the other side and heading back. On my way, I see some poor service worker trying diligently to clean up a HUGE mess on the floor. I say as I pass, with a smile, "That was probably caused by me" thinking it was my missing beauty lasagna. But as I pass her, I realize that no, she is cleaning up a spilled quart of ice cream that had been dropped or fallen and melted on this nice rug. How it got there, melted, in the first place, seems odd to say the least.

I get back to the place I thought I was supposed to sit, a large round table, well, not quite round, but I recall somehow before I got food - you know how you often go and sit down and claim your spot? And I was with someone, I have no idea who. But I recall at that point I got into a bit of tiff with someone who, after I had quite clearly claimed my spot somehow (who knows how? jacket on the back? Turned up glass? Personal effects on seat?) simply took it and stated to sit down. I recall saying quite audibly "That is my seat" and she either ignored me or did not hear, at which point I repeated, VERY loudly "THAT IS MY SEAT". She turned and looked somehow stunned or insulted or maybe both? And proceeded to sit down anyway. It was like I was not there. Hmmm.... So I took the seat next to her. But, at any rate, when I did get back with my food, I realized that that seat too had been taken by someone, and even the person I was with simply looked up and smiled at me and then motioned me over... to where? IT was odd, but I recall thinking, oh no prob, I will go and sit at another table. And then there was this odd internal mental processing going on about how I normally (?) would have decided to go FAR away and pout, sit alone, act hurt, etc., but that this time, somehow, I simply wandered around and looked for a seat. The dream seems to have stopped before I actually sat down, but the last point is the one I am interested in.

Namely: I think I have some sort of fundamental cognitive shift in place. More than once in the past, oh, week, I have recognized that I was in a situation where I *should* have felt one way, *should* have acted one way, but did not. I was even aware several times of almost trying to direct my mind to that dark shitty place of the past... and realized it was like the door was locked, and my mind could not get in. Instead of "poor me" or "s/he won't like me anyway" kind of thinking, I was more "oh well. S/he likes me, it just didn't work out" thinking. It is a very fundamental change for me, one I like, but is a bit disarming.

I think it may be a combination of things.

First: regular SAMe. I think this has helped. IT may finally be at the point where I have a stable level in my body and so it works a little more consistently. One of the odd things that I have recognized about the past week is that I have had all or a combination of "hot buttons" that I know from painful experience have frequently led me to the black hole - over tired, lack of food, etc. But having had these in place and NOT having fallen in...

Second: I have somehow gotten over the toxic parts of my relationship with a lover. I love her deeply, I know, but in the past 6 months it got ricockulous. I was having separation anxiety when we said goodbye, I was taking her "I can't see you tonight"s really hard. I was not liking her other lovers. I recognized it was getting toxic for me. Somehow, I let go. I still love her deeply, and I would still consider a move to where she would go in 6 months to a year (if she goes). BUt now? It is like it is OK to NOT be so glued to her, NOT be so stick that every thing she does or does not do is somehow a reflection of my own failings or limits, or of her somehow deciding that I am not good enough.

I don't know where or how this happened, this cognitive shift, but it seems to be here.

Beltane Sacred Sexuality

2009-05-05T18:09:00.000-04:00

This was Beltane number two for me. A decidedly mixed bag in many respects save one: the event was a lot of fun!

I hosted 3 workshops. The upside is.... I love giving this. The downside is that I miss almost ALL of the workshops I would like to attend, and here, that's quite a few!

Sexual meditations is really about a personal technique, and after 2 runs, and a small audience, I am gonna rethink this one. I love the method, I know the attendees love the result, but I'm not conveying something about this in the blurb. I either have to hard sell it or change tactics.

Body Image. This is ALWAYS a hard one. I had a good group this time, and all of us really put ourselves way out there with it. This time we had enough time each, and that made it a lot better. I also managed to remember to include a connect time at the END of the workshop - a simple circle and hold hands and an embrace one-on-one for each of us. I think that's important. The REALLY cool part about this is I was asked to present this workshop at a totally different venue later this year. This was a real honor, and I am hopeful I can pull it off (long distance to travel).

Body Painting. This was a first in this format. Last year I did a piece on the sacred mark - the idea there was to draw on the 50,000 year legacy of human beings to apply colors to the body. That went well, was quite different. This year, I decided I would have fun with it, plain and simple! So that we did: assembled about a dozen people and set up a nice range of crazy colors (silver and gold were huge hits!) and went at it. Lots of very cool designs, lots of interesting ideas, and then B and I paraded up vendors row with it! It was really fun. I plan to at least bring this to LR.

The Beltane rituals are really well done here. There is just the right blend of sacred, sensual and silly. They manage to be respectful while adding in a dash or two of irreverence to make it fun. It works well. I respect the process, and in fact wonder if it would make sense to go ahead and somehow require attendance at at least one of the rituals. Don't have any idea how that might work - maybe would have to be a carrot kind of approach, but I do see parallels here to the Winterfire no community meals issue. Shared participation builds bonds in ways that nothing else can, whether it is food or ritual, it's something that I think in the end really helps all the participants.

Turning to somewhat more personal matters....

I became aware at some point that every time I went near sex, this tape rolled in my head - "I am not good enough". I worked that for quite a while, trying to both notice it and overcome it. Of course, simply overcoming something like that is often problematic - without any knowledge of its root, overcoming is a little too much like ignoring. It doesn't work too well. I did not seem to make much progress on that approach. But then somehow it dawned on me: the problem is not so much I am not good enough, but rather that the same tape - "I am not good enough" - is a response to a deeper voice that scolds and reprimands and chides and denigrates. Once I found this vector, it felt different. Where did this voice come from?

And following a deep and heartfelt conversation with another participant - a conversation I not only did not know I was going to have, but also had no idea that it would take the crying painful direction it did take for me, I made this connection more tenaciously. He asked me at one point in reference to something else "Do you know whose voice it is?". that got me thinking a lot. IT is a way, I think, to try and approach the resolution or at least the management of this particular tape. If I can get to whose voice I hear, then I wonder if I can get to stopping the tape, perhaps beginning to erase it.

These are deep wounds, and I am not entirely sure I can heal them. They may continue on until I am dead. But I suppose in the end it makes more sense to at least try and work on them, to try and ameliorate the effects, and not simply let them continue to run me.

What do I need?

2009-04-13T20:27:00.000-04:00

Honestly, I have no fucking idea.

The past few days have been an odd conflation of UP and down. UP due to wonderful houseguests - self maintaining, easy to get along with, etc. despite one being in a bit of a funk. The flip side: I am seriously overtired and out of synch foodwise, and I am really pent up horny in a way that doesn't roll around too often. Add to that I have a major sink clog in the kitchen - you get the idea.

It has led me to a place of wondering what I need.

Part of that stems from a relationship. Lover is wonderful - soft, warm, kind, loving, attentive... and she has 3 other BFs besides me. Yeah, I have processed jealousy. Been through it. I know it still appears. But this is not about that.

It's about my needs not being met, and, in a parallel fashion, having this weight of knowing, or at least feeling, that her interest in me, sexually, is low. Yeah, we do it, we have scened, may again, we have fucked, may again, but it is not enough for me somehow. I want her to want me deeply, and the lands me cultural jail (or perhaps cultural hell). I have this bizarre internal image of me fucking her to next Tuesday, drilling her hard until she gives it up and then she tells me, pantingly, "more" and I give it to her. I HATE this image. IT is part of a set of cultural baggage I cannot abide. But it's there. Like asore, it festers in my head and won't leave.

And I don't trust that as an image of "what I need". At times, maybe. More times, nope, not even close.

So what DO I "need"?

Someone to talk to. But that raises other problems. Like, if there is someone around that is available to talk, then if they are intimates, the talk is constrained. If they are not, the closeness is compromised.

Sleepy

Through a Glass Darkly

2009-03-09T19:54:00.000-04:00

I'm really having issues around relationships these days. I crashed and burned REALLY badly this past weekend, feeling a deep sense of despair and rejection and a horrible sense of worthlessness. While a lot of the feelings appear to stem from a particular relationship, I'm not entirely convinced that it is that per se. Every time I try and analyze it,I seem to wind up in the same place: it comes from a deep seated sense of inadequacy. I'm puzzled and frustrated and even angry that it always seems to connect back to sex. Why is that? Why is it that the worst of the emotional freight train winds up there?

And each time I think I am past it, each time I feel like I am ok with her fucking someone else, some other, odd confusion of circumstance shows up that leads me away from that place of being ok. This time, it was around timing. I got sandwiched in between a call of being together and dinner/dance, that had her getting a great fuck in between that 2 hour window. On one level I am ok with it - pleasure is good, sharing is good, it's all fine. But I push my head into this sick little corner that says I am second fiddle, last, not desired simply beCAUSE of this. Part of me rejects it out of hand, and says I don't care if I feel that way, it makes no sense. But the larger and older and more powerful part of me takes over, reminding me that I am in fact undesirable, no good, not wanted, and that being last is part of who I have to be.

I went upstairs and cried really hard for half an hour. Inside I felt I wanted to reject ALL relationships, run away from ALL possibility of pain, and I tried this. I then texted and said don't contact me anymore. I think I was subconsciously reaching out past my broken, fucked up self, and wanting desperately for her to find that broken me and soothe it, come back to it. I feel disingenuous about that, a lie I cannot stop. I took it further, though, and sent that same note to another whom I love. Reject everything, the mind said, and avoid it all. "Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here" might as well have been the sign I had hanging on my head.

Funny how, after 24+ hours of reflection (which included me processing this with her over deep tears, as well as a passing remark after I apologized for being so fragile, that she thought we should probably talk about that) I am now entering some sort of anger phase. It's a kind perverse play on the Kubler-Ross stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. First for me in this case was depression, followed by bargaining, then some denial, and now I feel this odd anger. Who am I angry at? I think it is me, but am not so sure.

(return to this later. It is nice to finally have back something that is not read by others I know. IF you're passing through, please comment. I don't know you - it's safe)

Desire

2009-02-17T15:16:00.000-05:00

I’ve thought a lot about my desire and the nature of it – how it manifests itself, what it means to me, how I claim it and thus satisfy it. It is in some ways more mysterious now than before, which is odd given my new found proclivity to self-expression, outing, and the like. But here is what I think I really know.

I’m pretty well settled on the idea of “being both genders”. That is new to me, but I feel it deeply. At times, I feel a strong male force, at other times a strong female force. These manifest differently, and the nexus of my desire is surely mediated by how that force feels within me at a given moment. There was a time when being bisexual seemed to be “it”, and all that flowed from that felt like it was the real me. But of late, that sometimes seems more an ideology than a claimed, real identity, so I’ve let a lot of that go. I just don’t have a lot of interest in subscribing to ideologies. Being both is nice. I simply feel what I feel internally and enjoy the variety of expressions that can emerge. It only becomes a bit of a problem when I feel constraints: social, political, etc. There really are times when that expression must take a back seat to other concerns. But this too has not been a bother. I am secure in self-knowledge, at least along gender identity lines..

Things get decidedly more muddied once I step into the realm of my actual physical desires. On the one hand, I can easily apply the feeling of who I am at the moment to a thought process that lets me exercise those desires in my head. At the same time, it is not at all clear to me that I know what I want, or what is most deeply satisfying to me. That word – satisfy – is a problem. It is not simply “getting off”. I can do that alone and at times it is what I need. “Satisfy” often feels like a two-way street, something that depends on the ability to connect with a partner, deeply, and to have a chance to really let my duality out of the box, so to speak.
I think I have recognized that, to date, there has never been a physical experience that has really touched me inside in a way that speaks to the idea of “satisfy”. It’s not that those encounters I have had have somehow been deficient or wrong, or that the partners I’ve been with have been insufficient. It is more like there is a gap between what I am actually able to manifest as the whole me at that moment and the physical experience itself that I am having. As I think back on the many experiences I have had, I realize that many of them have been very strong and deep, but that no single experience comes close to reaching inside the whole me. The problem is I have no clear sense of what such an experience might even look like (or even if such experiences can exist at all). And, to further complicate things, I think it is possible that each encounter is, in part by it’s very nature (that of two or more together trying to encounter themselves through others), inherently self-limiting, that it will never be “complete” in the sense of meeting my (or others in that particular encounter) deeper desires. I’m not positive about this, of course, but it seems like this is a strong possibility. What, if anything, can be done?

One aspect of my desire in the context of it being a shared experience is that it seems inherently a matter of compromise. Unless we can truly claim to know ourselves in a way that facilitates that true deep connection (and if we cannot really know it alone, by ourselves, can we hope to know it in a shared context, in others?) then the process must somehow involve, even demand, give and take. To a certain extent, this seems likely to mean that one or more of the involved parties will be doing something that they don’t necessarily want to do. This is a decidedly gray line, broad and fizzy, because doing something one might not want to do is not always a matter of against one’s will entirely. And besides, the whole point of top/bottom, dominant/submissive is that same against the will thing. I’m not at all sure where any of this might lead, and it surely problematizes the matter. The best one can say, I guess, is that “against the will” is both a matter and willingness of clear communications and of negotiation.

Reflections

2009-02-11T08:40:00.000-05:00

It's been a really bumpy month. Following a really nice visit with my sister right after Christmas, I returned and got hammered by a flu. In very short order thereafter, I then wound up getting results from a doctor visit that were not so fun: I have bladder cancer. He insisted on doing the surgical stuff right away - which wound up being immediately prior to an already planned and paid for visit to my brother.

But in I went. And it was not fun. I was in the hospital for 5 days. They removed a largish tumor from the bladder, put me on a drip, added a catheter. I began a recovery process that was, to say the least, memorable. I wound up with something called 'ilius', a condition fairly common in patients who get full anesthesia, whereby your entire intestinal and digestive system simply go to sleep. This is a miserable fucking experience. You blow up like a balloon. You have to walk to "wake it up". You stop eating real food. When things do start happening, which for me was SLOW, the results are not fun either. Let's just say that I was thinking that all that methane? Mighta helped alleviate the energy crisis. I did begin to pull out of this, but that was after a serious nose dive into a black hole - I was really wanting a DNR, and they finally sent in an advocate who talked me off the ledge. Over the 5 days, I did recover, but it was hard. I would up also with a really painful area in my left groin, sort of like having a knife shoved in there. IT's now numb, and feels like a cut, but isn't. It's very disconcerting, to say the least.

And I did, obviously, survive that hospital stay.

I now have 6 chemo treatments coming up. Then I have a recheck (they drive yet ANOTHER school bus up my peepee and look around!) in June or July. The prognosis seems to be good now, but this will be a lifelong thing for me. I've also realized that, among the options for more serious cases in which, well, it gets nasty, I have decided I will not go to that extreme. When the body is that far gone - it's time. I'm not there now, and may never be, but this experience does cause some deep reflection.

The emotional fallout is really hard too. I was really taken aback when X was the person who figured out I needed serious help and called in the advocate. She was impressive and sat with me the whole next day. I also got wonderful support from others- CPG, BTB, Bro, Sis, -and all of that is deeply felt. The odd part about the emotional stuff, though, started after it was over.

It's not uncommon either. I feel defective. Damaged. Broken. There is no scar, but my head is not clear on this at all. I'm only missing "sick" parts of me, but I feel like I lost something larger. I was really scared about sex, and that whole part of my self-identification fell apart. It's only now beginning to recover.

I've since had conversations with sis (breast cancer survivor), a dear friend (wife survived Hodgkins AND breast cancer) and found that this post operative emotional scarring is common. It was really powerful to get to know my sister on that level - I'd know about her cancer, of course, but not about the post stuff, the numbness, the feeling of being broken. It's really odd and at times I feel I am coming apart, that life is over, why bother.

Then I have some good conversation, or a hug or a kiss and feel a little more whole again. It's hard all around. I don't want to be a burden to others. And I sure don't want pity per se. But I also know I need emotional support, and getting it is maybe more important than anything. It helps me normalize my life again, it is an outlet for odd, new feelings.

To the many in my life who have touched me: thank you. It's been a powerful healing process.

I'm not done with this. But at least for now, I seem to be ahead of it.

And one thing I did really get from the hospital stay.... There's a lot of stuff in life that's important. But, most of it is UNimportant. You learn, deeply, what matters. You learn to reach out for that and hold on to it. That matters. All that other crap? Doesn't matter.

Sighing

2008-11-18T09:40:00.000-05:00

Like leaves. In the cold grey sky.

Honestly, I sometimes wish I had not fallen quite so far, so deep in love. It can hurt. It can be happy, sad, crazy, silly, mad.

And the power of the moment can carry me forward, even as I despair about the future.

Makes no sense.

Something luscious this way comes

2008-11-14T15:02:00.000-05:00

There's something particularly wonderful about waking up to a warmth of covers. It's not so cold (yet!) that my bits are frozen, just chilly enough so that the blankets envelop me in a kind of semi-sleepy haze. The wonderfully erotic charge that happens when wakening enhances the moments. I don't want to get out of bed - this is too nice.

The chance to touch, feel, energize - it's all good.

More, please, sir?

The ________ cometh

2008-03-03T21:37:00.000-05:00

(Not having the proper term, I used _ to denote something - it ain't the iceman!)

Funny. As I get closer to Winterfire, I am more at peace about it all. Increased levels of experience seem to be behind it, as well as a newly found sense of self that lets me be ok with the way I am. Non-standard is not bad - it cvan be a positive thing.

Surrender

2008-02-22T10:19:00.000-05:00

There is a special kind of joy in a complete surrender. This feels new to me. It gives up a bliss that is strange and powerful, and I think I can find this in other venues too. It's more, much more, than endorphin release. It reaches me deeply, and the strength of the energy flow I get from this is nothing less than amazing.

I'd hazard a guess that a similar kind of surrender, properly negotiated and set up as a scene, could bring a similar flow. That's something to shoot for this time.

Anticipay-yay-shun

2008-02-05T17:44:00.000-05:00

...is making me crazy.

Winterfire approacheth.

I am getting the odd edgy feeling.

Have set one good wax date. Maybe have a bottom date - a really strong flogging or caning would be nice RIGHT NOW. Might even have a fire date - ah, memories of the pool abound, and that scar is still part of the body landscape!

I'm thinking I want to go out on the ledge, seriously out. The link between high endorphins and state of mind past sex is of interest.

Hot Wax

2008-01-21T20:09:00.000-05:00

I learned that self administered hot wax is not only fun, but practical to do.

A three hour photo shoot led to a conclusion of a very amazing hot wax series. My gear, her camera.

The main issue was being able to safely pour from the right height and knowing where I was about to hit! That was tricky - and I think that if I do something like it again (I want to, as this was the end of a pretty long hard process, and I was not so good at that point at getting and maintaining a really good erection - just too physically tired! Addin gthat in would be really amazing) Other than that, it is doable.

And practical to give a full waxing to an upright body, excepting the issue of breasts and how to ensure even flow underneath same. No simple solution there. But it DOES mean I can administer this to a dear friend who asked me for this delight! Mmm mm.

But, ooh la la! Hot Wax is golden for euphoric highs.

Dark Odyssey 2007

2007-09-18T13:39:00.000-04:00

Camp has now come and gone (sigh)

As in years past, it was everything I expected and nothing like I expected.

As in years past, everything shifted. I went with expectations. As soon as I arrived, those shifted, as they have every year... But this year the shift was dramatic.

First gear. So much of my time there this year was, unfortunately, built around pain management - physical (lower back) and mental/emotional (becoming "unmarried" after so long). The physical part was just a drag - EVERY damned thing had to be "arranged" around how much it hurt - fuck! Not fun. I felt better over time, but still....

The emotional - what can one say?

But the shift was pretty amazing.

I went, this year, with a kind of peculiar mood (duh - wonder why that!) and a kind of offsetting determination to fuck everything (literally and figuratively). That immediately shifted. Instead, I wound up - quickly - in a space of wanting to connect with everything and everyone I could.

That need for connect superseded the physical "big bang" theory. I was blessed, TRULY blessed, to participate in a Tantric event first thing - Barbara Carellas' 'Erotic Awakening Massage' from her amazing and accessible book 'Urban Tantra'. I had asked her how I could learn this as a giver skill and she responded by putting me in the hot-seat - be the model or the recipient. Thus, learning really happened! And man what a process.

The entire experience os one of understanding the crucial difference between being a giver and being a receiver. When one is either one of these things, it is essential to be FULLY that role, to be fully present, but not in a concessionary way, to the energy at hand. The Erotic Awakening MAssage is not at all about the usual orgasm. It is an hour long (or longer) process that egins by "waking up the neighborhood", and then proceeding to develop the sexual energy of the recipient, moving that energy around. It "climaxes" in the 'Clench and Hold'. Breath and breathing are an ESSENTIAL skill here, and one of the things I cannot overstate about her book is how breath plays into, AND becomes practical on a minute-by-minute basis, this process. I can't say enough about what an amazing experience this was for me.

This really pumped up the internal river, that amazing torrent of sexual energy that, when it is really going, just FLOWS through the whole body like an electric current. I wept openly at the end of this (the Clench and Hold) and it was entirely unexpected, and amazingly powerful.

My goal for the year ahead is to develop this more, to learn to be a complete giver of this same experience AND to have that SAME river run when I am giving it. With luck, next year will bring an even greater dimension to this practice.

So it went. The change from "Fuck" to "Connect" threaded the whole 5 days. I felt I wasn't working so hard to avoid the "Great Maw" that frequently plagues me in this kind of situation.

Exception: Cuddle Party
The odd exception to all of this hit the first night - the Cuddle Party. Itself a pretty wonderful event and a nice concept - it requires us to drop the sexual interaction part and instead look at connections through simpler means. The facilitators were wonderful (and hot too!) and guided a large group along the path. I thought I was doing fine until... I realized I felt very blocked. Now for someone like me who is generally very public about sex and feelings (too public at times :) ) this was really weird. I spent almost 40 minutes talking through this with one of the facilitators who really did a great job of inching me off of the ledge. I moved through it and wound up with some nice connection. But in retrospect, it was a bit unsettling to have this happen at all. It feels like it was somehow connected to something pretty old in me - school? I don't know, really. But, like all else at camp, it was a lesson.

Orientation sessions
I was privileged to give the Camp Orientation sessions this year - what a blast. I felt last year that I really wanted to all I could to help newcomers. I remember that feeling of fear my first time - so off I went.

Session 1 was a surprise. One person had already had an experience that left them feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable, clearly not a fun thing. I did all I could to talk through that, and I think it still needed some more exchange, and that apparently happened. The idea of SC being a really safe space is crucial for me, so I took the lessons from that to the next session.

The other two sessions were great. New attendees had good questions, and really good ideas about a few aspects I didn't frame as clearly as I might have. And the last session was a lot of fun as several of the attendees matched and exceeded my own sense of humor!

Body Beautiful - self image
Once again, my opening workshop proved to be a wonderful encounter. The kinds of experiences and ways that individuals experience their own bodies and how all of that impacts their self-image is amazing, sometimes heartrending. It draws me more and more to any chance to be part of any process that relieves that kind of individual pain. We live and are raised in a pretty screwed up social network - why on earth should ANYone have to endure themselves this way?

Yoga and pain
Too much of my time this year was spent dealing with my own physical pain, which at times was really bad. Back injuries will do that to you! But one thing I did manage to do was attend the wonderful Yoga classes. The couple running them are good Yoga teachers, and wonderful people to boot. I let them know I had this #### issue and they helped me work through it. Well, I managed at each session to find several positions that felt AMAZINGLY good - that sense of relief was such a gift, even if only for a moment or two. This is a great addition to camp!

More Erotic Awakening - empath or crazy???
If anyone had told me that the Erotic Awakening massage could have gotten more powerful after my Thursday demo experience, I would have thought they were total optimists! But I was really kind of floored by what happened on the second one, where I was simply part of the audience, while a woman was the demo. Odd and powerful stuff, this: I realized about 1/2 way through that I was feeling the SAME WAY I felt the day before! I was looking closely at the body response, and sure enough, as she approached the Clench and Hold I really felt a rush. Was I crazy or was it some kind of empathic response? Don't know, don't really care - I do know I plan to embark on a concerted practice here over the next year in hopes of being able to really share this next year at camp with as many as I can find.

Art of Negotiation - I learned I am not a Negotiation Weenie
Oh yeah. Walked into this session with a strong sense of "I am the case study of who should NOT go to this workshop". And when the first comment from the presenter was "I assume you all are experienced in negotiation" I felt maybe .5 cm tall! But... She guided us through the process with a series of exercises that led me to recognize parts of me I didn't even know were there. And that led in turn to my negotiating a session on knife play, something I had never bottomed for nor even considered. Amazing, and it left me very impressed with the presenter's credential.

Chatting with old friends
Of course, catching up with old friends is real treasure - it's just that there never seems to be enough time for it!

How Fri events were tempered by the shift from physical to non-physical
After the days sessions on Friday, I realized I was starting to get this different sense of being there. It took a little while to get in touch with it, but was a big reward for the entire camp experience. I'm still working through this, but the essence of it is that the deep pleasure I find in all of this play is less a physical sense than it is a kind of internal/mental thing. The physical is there, to be sure, but it is no longer the demanding :fuck me" process that I think captures as early on and never really let's us go. Is this the civilian divide? I don't even have a good word for it, I just "feel" it. And I really DON'T like the artsy-fartsy stuff or the NewAgey-isms. That's never been part of me at all, but here it is. Why the shift? Feels like the result of the experience of having to confront my own internal energy without that prompting of the hard physical. It is less about wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am (apologies to David Bowie) than it is about pumping up the internal energy levels.

So that begs the question: how on earth does one find others who work this way???

Urban Tantra - wow! The eyes DO have it!
And even more of this was ushered in by 'Urban Tantra'. I am hipped on accessibility, and so this book really scored big for me. Lots of Tantra books are out there, and many of them are so convoluted or so "deep" that it is almost a practice of becoming a kind of Tantra Monk to "get" what they have to say. Not so in 'Urban Tantra' - I find myself daily putting little pieces of it into actual living practice,something I have rarely been able to do with other practice outlines. Whew.

Radical Ecstasy - new highs
I followed this path further and dived into something I was totally unsure of: Radical Ecstasy. Co-facilitated, this was also a superbly guided process, which gradually moved the participants into a wonderful energy space. I'd never done clothespins before, and was really taken aback by not only how EASY it was, but how GOOD it felt.

Night in Flames - Second Degree Burns and how to deal with them - quickly!
This too was a new one. The idea - get naked, get doused in alcohol, then lit on fire, then jump (or be pushed!) into the pool. WHAT A RUSH. It was chilly that evening, and alcohol flames do nothing to warm you up. All the heat comes from the powerful endorphin rush - and the tinge of burned hair! :) For me this had a perhaps dramatic end. I apparently took a pretty good hit, and wound up with a fairly serious set of burns on my right leg. The odd part was that a few of these did not even appear until the Monday AFTER I got home! I'm still nursing them to recovery, but I would do this again next year....

Sleep needs
And there is the sleep issue. I knew it going in, and really wanted to try and shift my whole metabolic state around a bit, but the problem is not that shift, it is the mental stuff, the fear about a panic attack at 2 a.m. that really poses a problem. I don't have ay easy solution for that part. I was lucky in one sense. The times I did wake up at 2 were due to back pain and the need to down a painkiller which of course dropped me back off to sleep. Oy.

Border Crossing - again, amazing!
The return of this amazing workshop, co-facilitated by one of the SC organizers and another well known camper, was a welcome return. This session was one of the events I attended at my first DO, and it was again a doozy. It really challenges the sensibilities and assumptions, and forces you to look long and hard at your own baggage. Gender roles and definitions, and your own sense of what feels okay and not okay are severely challenged here. I sensed that many participants were both jolted and relieved by their experience. The area most noticeable for me, of course, was the issue of male-male sexual contact, something that quite clearly a lot of male-identified types at camp ain't up to yet! It's understandable, but unfortunate, and the thing this workshop does is to push your boundaries around. THAT leaves many of these same men wondering, and I think if the only thing that comes of that is a respect for those of us who ARE comfortable with such play, then that in and of itself is a really positive outcome.

Part of me thinks this workshop should be the Orientation session, required for everyone!

Cleansing the Body - a little chilly, but good.
This was again a marvelous connecting point. A slightly smaller number than last year, but a very wonderful combination of wet & warm, sun, air, oil and body. This particular venue seems a really good way to build the river of energy for all. While I love the approach, it is awfully climate dependent.

Play with friends - good energy
I was invited to attend a wax job with a close friend. I acted as the assistant, while he bottomed. It was pretty amazing. Striking how this kind of participation builds that side of me, something I am developing here....

I also had the great fortune to play again with someone I'd met last year and a new friend. Aside from the "Joy of Strap-ons" (which I adore!), I got to introduce someone to the buzz of a the HMW with the Gee Whizzer attachment. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm - pretty much says it. Needless to say, I think their mind was changed. HMW can be mighty intense if taken straight up, no chaser, but mediated through the Gee Whizzer - it's a WHOLE different thing! Yum.

Regrettably, I did not have the chance to delve into the gender aspect of play with them, as we were, well, preoccupied. But I suspect (=really hope!) that the dual gender part will appear again next we meet!

Demo #2: Heart of Glass
I think I have terminal volunteeritis... I jumped at a chance to demo bottom for a Glass Dildo - my oh my! Ruby slippers it ain't. The event itself felt kinda busy - too much in too short a time? But the brief slice I had did expose me (literally) to this wonderful toy. It holds warmth nicely, has the tiniest bit of edginess to it (glass can break, ya know!), and feels absolutely aMAZing doing its thing. Lucky presenter - found it for $40- I think they usually run $100+. Ack. On my list of "I wish..."

Missed play dates...
And more missed play dates... The chance to do knife play was sorely missed. The connection was there, but the timing just didn't work out at all. This would have been a first, and the tops were quite OK with addressing my female energy only, not the male side. Rats and double rats - next time, I hope, for sure.

I also regretted - a lot - that I could not schedule in a play date with a dear friend and mentor - not just once, but twice! How sad is that? Maybe it was me, but this year it felt more frenetic. Was it the increased number of attendees? Dunno. But I want to think out how to lower that freneticism next year.

Pictures as reflections of self
The camp photographer is one of those tricky areas for me. On the one hand, my totally public and occasionally exhibitionist self says "Paparazzi? No Prob - snap away". But I also recognize that the web provides too much space for unintended consequences. Every year, I pause over the photo release, and every year I back off. Not that I have a LOT at stake, and I certainly have a lot of trust in the players *here*. The real problem is the rest of the civilian world, where absconding with or doctoring up something is as common as weeds. Who wants that?

This year I, though, I did partake of a photo op. My keen interest is in the hidden: what can the camera (i.e. the photographer) find and reveal through the image that is not readily apparent on the surface? The answer, it appears, is not much in a short period of time. This speaks to 2 interesting issues. The first is of construction of self - how we imagine ourselves to be and appear versus what is really seen as we move through the social. The second is how distinct and how DEEPLY the visual realities of gender dictate what is seen. While appearance (in dress, primarily) does create an "effect", much of that effect is in our heads. Body motion and movement provides critical clues to the observer, but not enough, it seems, to overwhelm other queues. I was tempted to investigate a more in depth op, but time was again an issue. Next year?

Closing thoughts

DO experience is one of self experience. The "real" Dark Odyssey is not the 24/7 fucking or the Sex-O-Rama, it is the encounter and discovery of the inner self that really matters. The events and activities are, of course, wonderful and fun, but they are tools, and, properly used, lead to a single location. The journey ahead looks totally fascinating. Now I just have to learn to be 100% present. The teachers have appeared. The student is ready.

"Normal"

2007-09-08T06:13:00.000-04:00

It is amazing how much we take this word - normal - and all it subsumes for granted. I have been struggling for about 2 weeks now with a really excruciating lower back pain issue. It started, not too surprisingly, with a chain of abuses: schlepping 40 iMacs, lifting a boat engine, and then, surprise, heat. I have never had such excruciating pain (and no, this is not exquisite in ANY sense of the word).

It all leads me to reflect on "normal". Our typical take on this little word seems to invariably draw on notions of the perverse (themselves culturally constructed): "odd" sex practices, deviant behavior, "handicap", and all the rest.

But it is certainly remarkable how quickly we come to appreciate "normal" when the tiniest of everyday things becomes impossible: pick that up off of the floor (can't); sit down and then get up to get the phone (can't without huge pain); "Normal", in these conditions of major pain, quickly becomes something so utterly mundane as to render all of those other "definitions" ridiculous (or perhaps I should say "ricockulous"). If we think of something as normal in terms of what is somehow implicitly thought of and constructed as ABnormal (that's the "bad" stuff mentioned above, remember?), then anything outside of that must then be re-framed as something quite different, something acceptable, even palatable. So, pain that renders one immobile or unable to get up must then be a "condition" - at once acceptable and certainly palatable (thought not by any means desirable from any perspective). Similarly, any "condition" that becomes chronic - eg. anything that might permanently render one in such a state - must be re-framed as "disabled" (politically obsolete), "handicapped" (also politically obsolete, even insulting), or "differently abled". This is NOT to suggest that ANY of that sort of challenge to an individual is somehow "less", but only to frame this exploration of "normal". "Abnormal" is, in a very real sense, anything we are NOT, as long as it is broadly acceptable in a social setting.

But it is when the minutia of daily living pulls us into a state where who we were yesterday is made into "past tense" that "normal" suddenly shifts, and takes on a whole new meaning. We are not "differently able", nor are we "perverse", but rather, severely limited in our capabilities to the extent that the mundane becomes exotic.

Livin' in the past

2007-08-09T11:15:00.001-04:00

It feels so... defunct. But so many do - live in the past. No more. (well, I vow, but reality can take a different tack...)

It used to be a problem - yep, my own woids! Who'd a thunk it? But it feels like that is not the case now. It's not a problem, it just is the way it is. I am that dual/bi whatevered person.

Consider: you go to a therapist (many do) to figure it out. "Doctor. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel like a girl and a boy?"

Doctor: "You have Gender dysphoria."

And there it is. You have a disease. Normality is confined to non-diseased bodies. Since others have determined that in fact, what you feel is somehow, well, not "normal", it must be categorized placed in a box, put on paper and placed neatly into the taxonomy.

[Footnote: I wonder how things would look had the taxonomic reality of things, medicine in particular, had been arranged by Borges?]

What if, instead, the "profession" simply said "you're different"?

Leave aside the money and institution questions. How many lives might be saved THAT way?

My TIC session will, I hope, address that.

Camp!

2007-08-02T08:11:00.000-04:00

I am so looking forward to this year.

It is a time of change for me in a lot of ways, some very deep. Open Heart, Open Mind is more than a mantra - it pulls me out of the ditch.

The opportunity to so fully enjoy my genderbend is exhilirating!

Safe Space

2007-04-17T09:52:00.000-04:00

Others have reflected on this.

I missed the Spring Fire, but am planning the fall.

Last year was amazing, but one aspect of it I managed to overlook was echoed brilliantly by another attendee (a very good friend, totally hot, totally not available). She said: the amazing thing about DO camp is that it is truly a "safe space". I knew that, but I don't think I appreciated the depth of that until recently.

It is there one can really, truly, let it out. It has taken me how many years there to recognize this?? But it is true.

And one of my goals this year at camp is to do what I can to help new attendees recognize that. Dunno how, but I wanna try...

Fucking

2006-09-28T08:39:00.000-04:00

First this classic road sign:

Then this companion article:

Makes ya kinda wanna go ta Germany doesn't it?

Sex the halls

2006-09-27T10:28:00.000-04:00

It almost feels like a joke at times. The walk down the hall is dripping with sexuality. Of course, the fact that I have great legs, seriously the kind of “come fuck me” legs, helps (well, it helps ME ☺). But if feels like a kind of Satyricon satire: “I’m displaying sex. You can’t see it! Ha ha.”.

Does the politics of the body or of public self or of the sexual self suggest I should step further out? I tend to think not – public spectacle is sanctioned in specific ways, of course. And so stepping in to a public sex that is obvious invites retribution at some level.

But the feint humor is there!

Duality

2006-09-27T09:01:00.000-04:00

(Fuck - the whold damn thing toasted due to browser and spell check)

A reconstructed memory from a failed entry (fucking spell checkers – I should have known!)

The entire male-female thing is a serious growth and discovery area for me. Certainly, I did not expect to find that as I did at camp, but it was there.

We exist as this odd binary: male OR female, not both, not neither. Challenges to this kind of authority are more common but still not codified in formal areas (law, commerce, governance). Step beyond this – you are currently on your own. This same duality is a mandate: be one or the other, not both. Conform. Fit in. Dress, speak, act, walk, fuck the part.

The duality of it all is a challenge. Even in a social aggregate where there are more than two – whether Hijra or Two Spirit, the predominance of the binary split that happens largely on biological lines is obvious. For cases that accept, even cultivate it, the recognition of the self as presented this way is still glued to the simple biological reality: gotta make more. And it can be that simple. “There are no rules, everything is made up”. Speaks true in culture as process, I think. Goffman’s Presentation of Self holds true to the extent that we can “get away with it”.

But for me, it is often a conundrum. From the tentative and often fearful experiments at 18, to now – that is serious progress. The self presents differently now, even among family and friends. There is still quite a lot of fear, but that is changing, albeit slowly. The kitschy jewelry and the erotics of body care are manifest to those who care to look, and that may be part of the oddity for me at least – the voluntary nature of it. You have to decide to look – it doesn’t slap you around the way others sometimes do (I understand they have to do that, but they surely recognize the sometimes confrontational nature of this act). I wonder often “does anyone see?”. Fear plays a role there, surely, especially with colleagues or family as-yet-unrevealed-to. But public? Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.

And the discoveries at camp were quite amazing. Male encounters lead inevitably to a surge in sex energy: great erections, strong body, good physical strength (I surprised myself!). Female encounters were much deeper, not “prick centered” (hah I like that!), with a real internal flow that demanded a different kind of filling. And it was all validated from feedback, so I am quite certain it is not imagined. The hard cock in another mouth, the admired body and strength pumping in and out standing up or prone all to an audience. The pumping in and out on all fours, getting fucked deeply and pumped hard until I extracted the energy and it fell out onto the floor as a pained reply. And it was all at the same time, making it even more complicated.

One nice bennie to this: the little demon on the shoulder is calm, still jumping up and down, but not really demanding the same kind of attention as before. No doubt he will hang around, but I wonder (and note the gender referent to him here) if that is only the male energy. What manifestation is the female energy?

There is a distance to go with this.

camp highlights

2006-09-22T12:29:00.000-04:00

Guess this is on my mind.

Highlights:

Not one, but TWO good thumpings!
The first was from a totally gorgeous woman whom I actually ASKED after she mentioned her double. What a treat. I felt totally out of place on this - me? Get what I ask for? From someone FAR more versed in this? Why not the "go fuck yerself" reply? No idea. But it was really nice. I regretted being as tired as I was, and having to make myself go to bed and sleep to teach the next day, cuz I would have kept right on. (I my get brave and try and co-cabin with this group next year...they are all pretty goddamm hot).

the second a spontaneous invite from my mentor MC. It too was good. She asked me - postscript - "describe your emotions". That will take some work. Feelings? Easy. Emotions? Hmmm. But man, that was one BIG cock I took in, ALL the way in. And I think the screaming and smashing my hand against the floor (all with an audience I guess) was as close as I have ever come to really truly letting it go. And clearly done with both MC (very experienced) and the other woman who is totally experienced. I am in her league???

A totally hot guy
I really REALLY wanted to fuck him. But I had no way to ask. No way to push past the little me and say "Man, you are hot." A lesson somewhere I think. I did get a good intro to him via a class - I just wanted that to keep going and then to do more. What I wimp I am. SO now I am planning somehow to do something with movement next year - I have this piece of music - I burn with this it almost scares me - and I am hoping beyond hope he will be up there on stage doing this with me. Scary.

A totally hot girl.
I mean seriously. She has been to all the camps I have been to. She led some amazing sessions. And she is so totally beyond my league. Another lesson, I think: SPEAK UP you wimp! But I can't, at least not for her. Crap. I even tried tossing hints around to others hoping there'd be this Cap'n J Smith thing - what a dork. But I guess I can imagine it.

Good classes.
I taught good sessions. All of them were good. And the thing I really like is the stories that emerge - they are so amazing. So many people hurt so much. How can that be? But they do. And I really do think a few people got something deep and useful and meaningful from them all. That's all it takes. And in at least one case, I know that the person said he got a lot from it. And that showed by the really good, connecting conversations he and I had. That alone is worth it all for me. If I can't bring anything to anyone, I shouldn't be there.

First (and second) flogging.
A truly cathartic release. I wanted it HARD. And she delivered. First time - that was good. No permanent marks. I felt that tingle for 24 hours. And the second was as good, in as much as it happened while I was being fucked AND sucked - can't complain there.

Strap-on.
Me wierdo. Yes, I DO like USING a strap on. A guy? What is THAT about? Fuck em if they can't take a joke. Yes, I did get to use it. Both dills too. And, she asked me (Ok, I had to direct that invite to the strap on...). That was one sweat session. I mean really pounding. And the odd part is she was a sub - I did not quite appreciate that at the outset, so it got interesting when she asked for the real bits and I said no, I really liked it like this. Well, so did she. And we really had at it. Nice.

Self.
I wore what I wanted, when I wanted. This was a really nice part of being here again - the real me (well, the one others see and certainly one I feel a lot of) out on display and no one gave a shit. Nice. and it let me connect with that well. A bummer there was no really nice environs to shave - such a charge there. It is camp after all, but still.

Breath.
A remarkable catharsis in the session on the fire breath orgasm. I noticed an hour later - no back pain! What a gift. I have the instrucciones, will use THAT again.

And similarly, the Sex Magic time. That uncanny connection between lower back and "lack". It fits., like a glove (or a condom!). But what precisely do I lack? It is easy to slide downhill into "looks" or "talent" (sex talent) or "self confidence". But is it so simple? I think I have processed this one the most.

Kanga.
(A pseudonym). Shit. I am really going to miss him a LOT. His rotation is done. He was clearly a key part of my first camp. It sucks he is going so far away. Not fair. Can I plot to get to DC and visit? Odd - we connect at a certain level. But no sex. Huh? I'd like to play with him and his wife - but again.... Eeyore wins. Shit that he is gone. I saw him as a doorway (although I was sorely disappointed that the one wish I thought would happen did not!)

Song heart.
Powerful re-meeting with last year's grief (thx to HB for that observation). I knew it might happen. Had really nice picking times on the porch, esp b4 camp filled up. (Let's face it, a really REALLY good picking time is MUCH better than sex!) But it was a surprise when it arrived. I knew I was overtired. I thought to myself I should NOT sing this. But I did. And that sweet fellow S was sitting quietly and listening. And I totally lost it on verse 3 - started wailing and crying and decided "fuck the drama ban. I NEED to let this out, esp HERE". So I did. S listened. I really expected 2 things to happen: that he would get up and walk away. That someone from my "friendly" cabin (hah!) would come out and TELL me "Get a life Drama asshole". (I think my cabin was empty). S was REALLY nice. I dumped it all out - and it felt good. I don't think this is over. But I think this went a long way to a resolution. Then I went on a whim to wrestle, b/c I knew I had a ton of internal energy.

Wrestling.
This was FUN. I surprised myself. I was a lot stronger than I thought I was! And it was totally fun nude wrestling with another hottie, esp when he had to submit :) I think if this had gone on, I would have fucked every guy there or been done by any willing woman standing there with a nice hard strap-on dick. It was grand... except it ended prematurely with an injury. I was devastated. Not ONLY was it over, but the one person I thought was totally a hunk, someone I really wanted to connect to (physically as well as mentally) was out of the running. Of course, the Stupid Nurturing Me (c)(tm) then assumed "That's it for him. I certainly can't burden him with some seduction request now. Go hide". I am hoping next year will work - nude olive oil wrestling - that has to be one of my oldest fantasies!

Ritual.
There she was. Shit, a fucking goddess. Off limits for me, for sure. A good ritual - she knows what to do. And I really did not expect to have a list. I knew WHAT it was (it was a who) but not how. The breath? So I found it at the last second, and burned it. I realize now how good that felt. And how it helps me REMEMBER to let that go.

Lowlights

Cabin.
MC is sweet. I love her, and really like her mentoring and patience. But her friends... they are TOTALLY weird. Cold. Why is that? I really do NOT think that was me at all. They just did not want anything to do with me. Well, in fairness, MC's friend was actually very pleasant, and even seemed to like my music. But those other 4? Man. I anticipated one, from the previous camps, but sheesh-o-rama. I need warm and fun and happy and friendly - EHHH. None of the above. Who made them so cold? How sad. So next year I will try and do this differently. I really want warm laughing fun people, not cold, angry withdrawn egos.

Food.
Sigh.

Weather.
Sigh.

Driving 9 hours.
Sigh.

My own fucked up self image.

Too Many Mes

2006-09-22T11:35:00.000-04:00

This whole identity thing - sometimes it really sucks.

there are, quite simply too goddam many "me"s.

The male one. The conformist. The "picket fence" version, relegated and tacitly accepting the culturally borne roles.

The "other" male one. the one that really doesn't "get off" on straight fucking but has no idea why. The one who challenges authority. The one with the really offbeat sense of humor, SO friggin' offbeat that 95% of it is completely missed. Too bad. They don't know what they're missing.

The female one. The one who relishes his ankle jewelry. (Is it just the feel? The look?) The one who delights in the erotic nature of shaving. The one who seeks that perfect pair of shoes.

The "other" female one. The cook, bottle-fuckin-washer, swiss army knife. Clean, work, wash, pick up.

That offbeat male. The one that gets really really hard when playing sex with other hot males (that play and that man a distinctly rare event as well as rare commodity). A really good erection is a serious joy - ah to share with another who also relishes it.

The offbeat female. The one who gets really hot wearing his strap-on and rambunctiously fucking the daylights out of a willing bio-woman at camp (I think I seriously lost 5 pounds in that hour).

The male/female tramp. Well, sort of. The one who has it inside to BE that willing tramp. The one who knows s/he is just unversed enough to have the courage to try, but if the door is opened... The one that was on Sunday night at camp: getting sucked off by a sub while being whipped - hard - by a Domme, and then being fucked hard by another strong Domme (you're gonna put ALL that in ME??? Ah damn, I DID!). Trampy enough to want to do the whole thing over again. Trampy enough to delight in the gathering audience, hoping for more.

the broken. The one who can't bring him/herself to actually ask. the one who, when I do screw up the guts to ask, it comes out all weak and puny, like some fucking geek (well, I am part that) who is clue-fucking-less about it all. the one who automatically goes to that same old place: "I'm so nothing."

The felt. (No not THAT kinda felt. See above for that one). The one who writes songs that he cries to. The one who PUBLICLY breaks down in loud tears trying to sings the same song he couldn't even mutter at LAST year's camp, and worries the drama ("NO DRAMA ALLOWED" but is it???) The one who HAS to have that daily does of deeply felt music. The one who gets totally hotted listening to ‘Tank’ and vows public exhibition on the theme of the heart next year: naked, throbbing erections moving hard and fast in total sync on public stage. “Do me now”.

Identity.

TSA should have a field day with this.

"Can I see you passport please?"

"Which one?"

DO Reflections redux - 2006

2006-09-21T20:51:00.000-04:00

It was a good camp.

I did 5 workshops - all went well, I think. It was REALLY nice to get feedback from particpants that they really connected with the workshop idea and subject. I think that alone made all worth while. And it was my goal - I set out to do the best I could on all of them. that alone was the purpose of my going, I made it that way, and I think it paid off. I'm not famous, never will be in that regard, but it doesn't matter. I have the ability, I think, to offer to others something that they can understand and use to enrich themselves. That felt really really nice.

the mind-spirit-body connection seems weak there for me. I am not yet fully sure of how I see this, but it is there in a vague form now. For instances...

I did the long gbreathing workshop. It was pretty amazing. And after an hour, I realized a lot of my physical pain was simply gone - realy not there. Coincidence perhaps, but it matters little if the result is the same. I plan to try to master that method!

And I did the Sex Magic session. Revelations happen in interesting ways: "the lower back (chakra, I think she said) is connected to LACK". And yes, I am aware of feeling a lack of something. There is a strong sense of epihany here, but no really solid "WOW" with it.

Ironic - I give a session on asking for what you want,.... and I can't even do it myself. well, maybe not entirely true - I did ask - twice - and both granted. (Wait, the first was being asked, or perhaps "hinted: to, and then affirming, and then asking - once that ice was broken). The second was an outright "I would like..." - I will spare the details.

and then to hear I seemed, or was part of a scene, that was HOT, that I had a nice body - that is very alien turf for me.

But I think it is for many. How to really REALLY REALLY LET GO?

That, I think, is my next personl goal - really let go. I got damn close this time. Pounding, screaming, shouting, pumping, sweating - it was good. But there is more, deeper, more to let out to reveal, to display, to show. Is that what all this is? Public display? Not for all - some hide away.

Seems there is a kind of fuzzy division there: on ethe one hand there are those who clamber in to play, seriously, and enjoy that aspect of it. Some take that seriously, maybe too seriously. The other fuzzy side are those who come for no more reason than to indulge in the act of wanton fucking. That's the group I can't really seem to connect wiht much. Oh I don't begrudge it, but I am strangely aware of how that seems to set up a kind of odd social boundary layer that is at times, forgive the pun, impenetrable. And it isnot cocks that penetrate here, but social connectivity. What ever tissue connects, whatever lube facilitates, that absence measn at least to me, you're either an innie or an outtie.

Of course, I've ALWAYS seen myself as an outtie, so that may well be my own long jaded attitude, the disbelief that this happens at all, speaking. As a Qualified Social Outcast (QSO) or so I have told myself so long, it makes sense that those who do or have are something other than those who do or have - I have to try and "other" them to prevent me from falling into the dark abyss. But fall I do.

Not as deep this time, but still... I had many moments of feeling like that same reject. That one who, no matter WHAT I mightsay or do, "faggeddaboutit" would be the reply to "I'd love to have some hot and heavy play"/.

Is all this really nothing more than "be like me"? Is it maybe a variant of "please pay attention to me because I am lonely"? Part of it, yes, but there ismore.

and part of that more is, I think, that absence of awareness around the whole mind-body-spirit connection I feel is SO important here. I liked the sessions that lloked to this connection, developed, allowed it. I enjoyed the cerebral as much, maybe in some ways more, than the play or other events. I certainyl gave myself over to the experience. I felt serious lust after some male bodies, certain energy flow for some female bodies. I recognized that even looking past my own self-reflection that holds me as villain, I rreally AM an amateur here, and that despite my seeing a few others (well, certainly 1 in particular) as a figure of both strong mind-body-spirit AND as a total hottie with whom I would have gladly begged for the chance to play seriously, that individual is simply leagues beyond my newbie-ness, and I think that what happens is that I characterize me as that useless newbie junk, and then place the other in an impossibly far away position, so I can AVOID the crush of "no" or even "later?".

I never got either wish. One I did not really expect. BUt it was hard not to even get a shot at the other, little more than "she is shy and needs to get to know people first." I'm what, chopped liver? I don't need that too? (Ok, part of that is likely to be the whole male thing as dominant de,anding assholes that we can be so much of the time, We do the raping, usually, after all, eh?) Oh well. I don't know how to cope with that part though. Do I rationalize it away? Do I simply say "Eh, no biggie, maybe next year". Do I return next year to find that spark of self confidence that lets me really feel, inside, that I am the person that can be desirable and, gasp, ASK??? Odd - as it appears that scant evidence demonstrates some measure of my being desirable. Why does that even MATTER?

I did manage to flaunt, comfortably, that female energy in me. And flow it did - at times overwhelming me in the raw energy. And even then, I was able to really feel the corresponding male energy flow - they run together, not much doubt there. And I do enjoy it.

and I take that home, a little, and can lightly flaunt that at work - no notices and gives fuck anyway. But less - a lot less - at home. Is that the sticking point? Do I "lack" such that all home interactions are flawed due to my feeling so unnoticed, unappreciated, unwanted? I do not know, really.

Enough for the moment. The growth is good.

NExt year: movement, dance. raw male energy on public display, willing female energy on public display and, maybe, ASKing. And fireplay and wax, for sure.

Erotic charge

2005-09-22T11:50:00.000-04:00

More on this...

The internally imagined seems, on reflection, so much more potent, more fertile, more "real" in a peculiar sort of way.

But on "meeting the master" so to speak, I'm left more with a sense of "why?". Sometimes this is tangible: the potential person is not clean, not interesting, predatory (I got that!) or something else.

But at other times, it is entirely devoid of clarity. Looks good, scent is nice, attitude feels right. What is missing?

The small group scene I encountered in the cabin was a good example. Nice looking, interesting, I was even "invited". There was an aspect I was really drawn to. And yet.. I backed off, lost interest. Not at all sure why. This feels like the bridge between imagination and reality.

I wonder if some of this is conditioning: we see, hear, view and then imagine in our aloneness "what would that be like?" and then perhaps "that would be SO cool"... But the conditioning cannot and does not ever prepare us for our own emotional confrontation should we decide to step away from our mind and visit the body in real life.

Of course, it also might simply be the state of mind. Mine was odd, confounded, dealing with sadness and, then, grief.

Dark Odyssey reflections

2005-09-21T11:50:00.000-04:00

Always an experience. Wow.

This time....

* The fine art of negotation, formerly eluding me, finally became clear. There are two parts - or so it would seem.

First is "ice breaking" - even thinking about getting to yes means going to a potential playmate and trying to find the courage to even ask. I did that. Felt good. And I was very fortunate - that individual was receptive, understanding, patient, open, warm, caring...

Second: Learning to ask for what you want. This feels like the negotiation proper, which it is, but it is more than that. It is getting past who you think you are, the persona that is out in front where everyone can see you, and reaching inside to find the courage to put what is really hiding inside out where another can see it. I don't think this is so easy.

* Erotics of self. This seemed so obvious. Alas, lessons learned. What I imagined as the erotic drive was imagined, but felt as though it would naturally flow from imagination to action. In the end, when faced with "do I? or don't I?", something quite different seems to happen. Imagined is trumped by a different force. Sometimes a conflation of fear and sense of needing to feel safe, other times a mix of desire and disgust... ultimately driven by a seemingly practical reality, and a recognition of "I really don't have that interest. Odd. But the good part is the recognition that the internal erotic engine is actually made stronger, better, more powerful through this.

* Catharsis. First caning and whipping - more. With heavy penetration. mm.

* Sadness and Grief. the highlight, oddly enough. I just could not wrap myself around the event this year. The month and half leading me there was really hard, and my seemingly "natural" proclivity for pulling myself into sadness was fully operational - I just could not pull out of it. But then a wonderful breakfast converation happened, and a dear friend pointed out to me the link between sadness and grief. It seems absurdly obvious now, but it was a revelation. What am I greiving? But it feels right. I need to "go deep" on this. Get fully in touch with it, and see if I can either discover what the seat of that grief is, or, even absent that, at least find out how to pass through it with out feeling like it is quicksand.

tbc....