In Tatters

I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply

In the Deep

3am writing...forgive any needed edits.  The call outweighed basic protocols.  

"Transformation is not accomplished by tentatively wading at the edge." ~Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

That quote slammed into me and nearly brought me to tears with its validation 36 hours ago.  I couldn't read another word.  I slipped the marker in the crease of the pages, gently placed the book on the worn formica tabletop with trembling fingers, and leaned back against the booth's vinyl.  Epiphanies at ancient NYC diners are a long standing city tradition that I haven't been blessed with nearly enough.  

I sucked down some water, sighed in silence, and let a very familiar truth sink back into my bones.  

Discomfort is a natural and normal part of the transformation process.  For someone used to pushing herself forward into the unknown in search of growth and evolution without much a fuckin safety net, I don't know how I'd forgotten about the danger and risk that comes with exploring new paths on my journey.  

I also can't help but laugh at myself.  

There was MAsT Metro NY meeting focused on vulnerability last year (Maybe the year before? Fuck...the blur of the pandemic!) where I openly expressed confusion...maybe more a complete loss of understanding at where vulnerability existed in a Lifestyle where so many of us own our kinky, dirty, radical sexy shit and deal it out matter-of-factly in the form of negotiations, lifestyle discussions, and even educational sessions.  

Well...now I have my fuckin' answer.  Vulnerability happens when you venture beyond your status quo.  Vulnerability happens when your heart not just your mind cares what happens next.  Vulnerability happens when there is something personal at stake.  Vulnerability happens when someone who matters stands witness to you discovering a truth you'd never found.  Vulnerability happens when control no longer sits firmly in your own hands.  Vulnerability happens when you lean in and blindly give yourself over to the current of The Universe.

~sigh~ Finding understanding and fiercely facing reality always settles me even when I'm embracing discomfort, risk, and...vulnerability.

I set out months ago after the magic and lessons of SPLF to refocus on and re-engage my heart and body with the world again.  My mind and spirit had made leaps of growth, but I'd left the rest of me behind, and the imbalance had been fucking with me on a fundamental level. 

Apparently, The Universe is investing heavily in me making up for lost time.  I love and surrender to Her freely and am deeply grateful for the opportunities she puts in my path, but damn Her sadism is not lost on me.  lol

Be brave and fierce, 
~DominaKat

Note | Deep thanks to @MsJayIron for sharing/promoting *Braiding Sweetgrass* to the community.  This hasn't been the only time I've needed time to absorb the beautiful remembering of her words.

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