The 9 Service Languages | Intensive Session Wrap Up Thoughts

On Sunday, I wrapped up my first small group FULL INTENSIVE workshop that spanned 6+ hours over the course of 2 days. Anyone who has sat through my Intro class knows, The 9 Service Languages is a fucking BIG IDEA! When I first launched my class, I naively believed it could be tackled in a typical 90-minute or 2-hour session. I quickly learned that was impossible and that few platforms (cons, orgs, mtgs) had the ability to hold space for me and attendees to get DEEP in the weeds of WIITWD as it relates to Service. I am PROFOUNDLY HONORED that @S-O-C—the Service Oriented Conference—reached out to me earlier this year to be a part of their inaugural Intensive Program. They were the perfect partner with the perfect target audience for an Intensive of The 9 Service Languages of Authority Transfer Relationships/Dynamics. The session allowed me to work with a small group as we got our hands dirty, dissecting where, when, how, and why we do Service and considered ways to adjust, tweak, evol...

My Sacred

At my soul...at my very foundation and root is M/s.
"The things which are sacred or precious to us are the things we withdraw from promiscuous sharing."
~Howard Roark, The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Sacred | ˈsākrid |
adjective  regarded with great respect and reverence by a particular religion, group, or individual
The Dominance of Owner.
The submission of property
The Power/Authority Exchange.
Simply sacred.

M/s entwines itself across every core element.
Of my existence.
And delves so deeply into my soul.
I will not.
Cannot.
Promiscuously share.
Sacred.

My sacred...
Is not a kinky game.
Or haphazard wrapper.
Or just spicy sex.
It's not pretend.
Or a mirage.
Or a costume.
Or part-time.
Submissive property.
Is who and what I am.
Even if I'm simply waiting.

To be Owned.
Claimed
Treasured.
Led.
Sacred.

To serve.
To please.
To be used.
To support, encourage, guard, protect, love, ADORE.
To give...
All the best I have.
To believe...
In Him.
My sacred.

The comforting feel.
The safe presence.
The cherished touch.
A direct order.
Protocols and rituals.
Punishment.
The blessed fucking pain.
The nurturing.
The guidance and direction.
Of my Dominant Man...
My sacred.

His Dominance...
Settles me like nothing else.
Under its weight
My mind
My heart
My body
Every fucking thing I am
Can find peace.
Rest.
Give In...
To Him.
That magic.
It is the only thing that has ever stilled me.
Sacred.

I seek the...
Tranquility at His feet.
Hope in His leadership.
Faith in His protection.
And my submission and loyalty...
Will become an endless ocean.
He controls
With the flick of His hand.
A growl from His throat.
My sacred.

This...existence.
Under Him.
That clear, unwavering point of reference.
To dedicate myself.
A shining beacon
To begin from.
To return to.
That mental, emotional, physical space we create.
Becomes my Sanctuary.
Where I practice my Religion.
Where I can breathe freely.
Where I can be myself.
Where I belong.
My sacred.
~DominaKat

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