I find myself in unfamiliar territory.
This whole...actually being led thing.
Not in the bedroom.
Not in some kinky-fuckery.
Not in a litany of "Yes, Sir. May I, Sir?" protocols.
Not in put-on-a-sexy-dress.
Not in oh-bring-me-food.
Don't get me wrong... He does lead me in those ways. Well... most anyway. I'm not sure he even cares what I wear. lol Those common leadership tactics are all ones I have experience in and can manage (on most days) to follow without stumbling or making an ass of myself. On rare occasions, I might even succeed with some measure of grace.
The unfamiliar territory I mean is plain old Real Life—an area no one has dared try to lead me for... decades. That was never what partners and I was doin. They didn't have a Vision, the Desire, the Wisdom, the Strength, or the damn Authority to Guide, Nurture, Protect, let alone make Decisions that would have real world consequences regarding how I lived my life. I didn't want their input, and they didn't want the responsibility. Despite whatever temporary emotions existed, our existence was a manufactured fantasy-land of scenes, visits, and/or short-term Alfred service to them.
For better or worse, assessments and choices related to my Real Life were mine and mine alone, and the challenging uphill journey I've found wasn't what most were willing or able to navigate. In the day-to-day of doing, I often lose sight of that truth.
As a young adult I pulled up my roots and fearlessly (and even very naively at first) set off to explore new places and new opportunities. Depending on how one may choose to count, I've lived three to seven very different adult lives so far this lifetime: different places, different people, different partners or none, different energy, goals, missions.
Never once did my roots take hold in those soils.
roots | noun | the part of a plant which attaches it to the ground or to a support, typically underground, conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant via numerous branches and fibers; the part of a thing attaching it to a greater or more fundamental whole
To be fair, I only ever truly attempted it once. The consequences of trying to find purchase in the circumstances of that that high, dry desert nearly destroyed me, sucking the life from my being until my foliage fell, my branches withered, and my trunk began to bend under cruel weight and malnutrition. Before I lost my soul, I shoved myself in a planter with scrapped together dirt born of defiance and tenacity to recover enough to travel and then set off for lands far away from those parched mountains that offered no chance of a future.
Since then, despite all the places I've visited and lived, my roots never sank into any of those native grounds.
Tendrils and strands of fibers may have creeped out of drainage slots to the various top soil under my pot in order to gather nutrients (knowledge) and water (experiences) that fed me and my journey, but I've only changed planters—bigger ones as I've healed and grown, sturdier ones as I've gained strength and reached higher, more decorative ones as I've evolved to a better and better me.
In many ways, I never had the option to dig deep and plant myself firmly. Maybe I wasn't meant to. No place felt right. No one held space. Nothing provided a solid, steady base for all of me to thrive. Maybe the places that I've been were always meant to be transitory—places to rest, to heal, to grow, to learn, to enrich and prepare pieces of me for the next path in my journey. In return I provided others shade and protection from their storms, or I nurtured and seeded their property, so they could survive and even prosper.
I am also very guilty of purposefully embracing situations where I could never belong. My deliberately tendency to maintain strategic uncrossable chasms protected me from higher-risk stakes I had no ability or desire to test. I kept my life simple, uncomplicated, and detachable to minimize practical impacts. I stayed in safe contained planters, so I could shift quickly and easily to new territory when a climate became unhealthy.
However, over the last five of years I and my life have gone through a profound metamorphosis. I'm stronger, wiser, more whole now than I ever have been. Then a year ago I was blessed to find an unexpected, unplanned for environment where magic has and continues to manifest.
Where all my rules, old habits, and well placed protective measures simply dissolve.
Where my hands itch to dig deep into the cool, rich soil.
Where my feet and toes long to be naked and touch the raw earth and sand.
Where the trees sing to me and the plants hum their melody around me.
Where there's no chaos and no lack of air or sun or water.
Where all of me can exist.
Where my mind, body, heart, and soul simply settle so peacefully.
When I'm there—when I'm with Him—and even if things aren't perfect, I thrive in a way I've never felt and no one has ever seen. My soul hears an unmistakable call that is so pure and vibrant that when I arrive I laugh in joy and when I depart I nearly weep in sorrow.
But as with everything that has happened the last twelve months, I couldn't follow my previous patterns. They no longer felt...appropriate. It felt fundamentally off to even consider some sudden radical change of course and independently shift my planter like I always have the last twenty years, so I trusted my instincts, the energy, and settled into the rhythm of our unique journey, staying present and open to the process.
That doesn't mean I was prepared for what has come my way. I wasn't. This experience has not reflected what life has taught me will unfold.
For the first time in decades, a Man has chosen to lead me forward in practical, meaningful Real Life ways toward Him.
And...He ain't impressed with my pot. Not at all. "Enough is enough..."
He's right. I've been uncomfortable since last August, and the cramped feeling has only grown more prevalent. I knew as summer began to fade that change was coming for me again. I just didn't know when or where, what or why, or how.
He's shown me that I'm root bound and need more space to stretch and grow. In the process, I've had to face and let go of old beliefs and fears to embrace new ideas and possibilities, but...I still don't know how or have a firm plan in place to break free of this damn pot.
I get frustrated...impatient, but I'm trying to have compassion for myself. After all, how could I know what to do? I've never put down roots or known the taste of fertile ground beneath me, How would I understand how to untangle myself from the stifling safety of my sturdy planter? ~sigh~
Then I remember. It's not just me trying to figure out the best way forward. I am beginning to be part of a greater or more fundamental whole. He determined I needed to shift. He set the priority. He directs the path based on the landscape in front of us. He is an active participant in this, deliberately leading me in the directions he selects and away from those He wants me to avoid.
So maybe...He'll also be willing and able to help me shatter and peel away the heavy ceramic that binds me.
Then maybe...He'll also help me guide and nurture my roots into ideal conditions where they can sink deep.
Considering He happens to be a talented and thoughtful Gardener, if ever I had a chance to take root and flourish, it would be in His extremely capable, patient, strong hands that have already sank into my soil and coaxed me toward light and love and passion and joy.
~DominaKat
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