“You took my hand and drew me to your side, made me sit on the high seat before all men, till I became timid, unable to stir and walk my own way; doubting and debating at every step lest I should tread upon any thorn of their disfavour.
I am freed at last!
The blow has come, the drum of insult sounded, my seat is laid low in the dust.
My paths are open before me.
My wings are full of the desire of the sky.
I go to join the shooting stars of midnight, to plunge into the profound shadow.
I am like the storm-driven cloud of summer that, having cast off its crown of gold, hangs as a sword the thunderbolt upon a chain of lightning.
In desperate joy I run upon the dusty path of the despised; I draw near to your final welcome.
The child finds its mother when it leaves her womb.
When I am parted from you, thrown out from your household, I am free to see your face.
– from FRUIT GATHERING, by Rabindranath Tagore (May 1861 ~ August 1941)
[Translated from Bengali to English by Rabindranath Tagore]
Published in 1916
And suddenly…I understood.
Today is my Loki-versary.
Today marks three years since I made things official – three years since I made vows in front of witnesses and the like.
And yet since this past December – coming upon a little over two months now – my work regarding other things, as well as my working with Another has required Himself to step back a bit.
But I want to mark this day, and give Him some well deserved love and praise.
Hail Loki ❤
This is a perfect example of pandoramancy.
I had never heard of this song before – and yet it was suggested on my recommended play list on YouTube – and because I’d left my playlist on autoplay, it played through without my having chosen it early yesterday morning.
But it conveys certain aspects of my feelings quite well.
You deserve a lover
who wants you disheveled,
and all the reasons that wake you up in a haste
and the demons that won’t let you sleep.
You deserve a lover who makes you feel safe,
who can consume this world whole
if he walks hand in hand with you;
someone who believes that his embraces
are a perfect match with your skin.
You deserve a lover
who wants to dance with you,
who goes to paradise every time
he looks into your eyes
and never gets tired
of studying your expressions.
You deserve a lover who listens when you sing,
who supports you when you feel shame
and respects your freedom;
who flies with you and isn’t afraid to fall.
You deserve a lover who takes away the lies
and brings you
hope, coffee, and poetry.
(shared by Lee Harrington)
I feel like my throat is closing up.
My throat feels raw and it is painful to swallow. My senses seem dulled as my sinuses are filled with congestion.
Perhaps this is nothing but a chest cold, a head cold. My head feels as if I am under water, and there is a strange metallic taste in my mouth. My eyes water and my muscles ache.
Perhaps this is really nothing at all besides my simply being sick.
But I am not telling my story.
I know my task. I know what stories I have promised to tell and yet I am having trouble speaking of them. I am having trouble writing about them.
I know that He wants me to write of how things changed.
How Loki as the Teacher and the Magician slowly morphed into Loki as the Lover in mid-2013.
You see, my husband of 20 years was having an affair and that knowledge of that fact devastated me.
So Loki came forward, first to comfort, and then to strengthen and empower me in my feelings of brokenness and betrayal.
Ever the Teacher, He sought to show me –through use of Himself as an example – how I should be loved. Simple as that: He sought to love me and to heal me with a fierce and steadfast tenderness that I continue to marvel over, even to this day.
But I didn’t want His love…in the sense that I felt that I could not possibly deserve it. I did not believe that I deserved His fierce loyalty, His honeyed promises, His gentle touches. Instead, I insisted upon a passionate, almost feral connection.
I was angry and avoidant.
I didn’t expect to be understood, much less, did I expect to be loved.
I pushed Him away.
I refused to see; I resisted recognizing Him as anything other than a Being Who could break me and I sought to be broken.
I wanted to experience the height of relationship that I had recently been teaching others about – I wanted to experience a consensual, BDSM-fueled dynamic.
But He refused.
Our ‘scenes’ were passionate, yes, but He refused to cause me any pain.
Though I begged for Him to transform me through pain, He responded:
Why? You have been through enough pain…and yet you have not learned.
So He approached me with care and kindness. I daresay His behavior was all romance and gentility, and my response was I wanted desperately to shut down:
That is not for me, I wept and I raged, That has never been for me. I don’t believe in that.
And so I hid from Him.
I pushed Him so hard.
I dared Him to grab me by the neck and shame me like an errant puppy.
I waffled between fear and rage.
I was either afraid of Him or I was angry/despairing of Him.
I was insistent: You do not love me. You cannot love me. No one can.
But He simply smiled and blinked and continued to present Himself to me, in dreams.
He spread Himself out like water at my feet.
He stroked my face with tender hands.
He bowed down low, head to the ground, and asked me how He could serve.
To be honest, He was a better submissive than I ever could have been, and yet I still argued, how – why – what had I ever done to deserve such devotion, such heartfelt words, such considerate actions? The acts of His submission were all rooted in my own personal repertoire, and yet He faced me with every single one of them, challenging me to consider Him and to receive Him as I sought to be received in the BDSM dynamic I craved/created with so many others.
Allow Me to care for you as you have cared for others.
Allow Me, He whispered over and over.
He often tried to convince me, cajole me into recognizing Him in the shape-shifting flurry of faces, of former play-partners and past lovers that I’d see in my dreams:
I see you. Do you see Me?
Look Me in the face.
See Your Beloved. I am here before you.
He demanded eye contact. He accepted no less.
And still, I ran. I avoided. I cried.
I would not look Him in the eye.
But He was patient…and He was relentless.
By 2014, I stopped teaching at BDSM events.
Though I’ve been involved in ‘the scene’ for over 20 years now, I have not attended a BDSM event in two years.
(to be continued…)
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
You are worthy.
I cannot make you understand.
But I will keep trying.
This is the connection between love and self-love.
Perhaps you will learn to love yourself in ways that you had not – but I hope that you find your way to me.
You are safe.
There is no need to fear being vulnerable with me.
I approach you without armor.
I see you for what and who you are, and I tell you:
You are worth loving.
You are loved.
I have chosen you. You have always been my choice, and you shall always be.
That’s the kind of loyal I am.