‘Twas a hard week for this kitten- as evidenced by my complete lack of blogs. Being back at work with different shift times and a body clock that is still adjusting has been tough. Not to mention the numerous irate people I had screaming at me. How many more weeks of work have I got left? Obviously too many.
My end of the week comfort was a viewing of the Secretary, which finally arrived after being purchased on ebay a couple of weeks ago. I thought it would be absolutely fabulous to watch it curled up inmy doona in front of the fire. The absolute icing on the cake was having a belly stuffed full of a scrummy rissotto that Master made from asparagus he bought from a road side stall on the way home. You’ve just gotta love a man who hunts and gathers while he hoons through the countryside back to civilisation.
Master doesn’t like the Secretary and I can understand why – it speaks to me on a variety of levels as a subby, but I’m sure that the character of Mr Gray says nothing to the dominant folk among us. Master struggled to stay awake on the couch as I sniffled my way through it. For some reason I can never watch it without crying.
I watch Lee’s frustration when she gets ignored and goes back to just being ‘the secretary’. I watch her struggle to ask for a beating when she needs the emotional release after yet another run-in with her father. I watch her happiness as she finally gets the attention that she had been craving and I think…
Although I’ve never self-harmed by cutting or burning myself, I’ve certainly sought a similar kind of release when things have just gotten too much. Self-bondage was my emotional health fix achieved by tying myself in ways that would hurt and mark. Bonds would be so tight I could barely breathe. And I’d enjoy the moment of feeling really alive and in control. Later on there would be trophies of my struggle to admire.
Mr Gray is a man who fears his control. He has not accepted who he is and he struggles with the concept that what he is doing is needed by both of them. In contrast, I doubt that Master has ever had a moment when he has not done exactly what he wanted- because he knows he has the right to, and what’s more, he knows I want him to exercise that right. Rather than identifying with Mr Gray, I’m sure Master was lying there thinking,
"Why the fuck doesn’t he just beat that croppable ass?"
Master has very much surrendered to his nature. That’s who he is and that’s what he does. He doesn’t give a fuck what other people think. I’m often in awe of his quiet acceptance of things he cannot change and his outward appearance of comfort in his own skin. Of course, he has had 20 more years on this planet and many more years in D/s than I have had to process his role and solidify his feelings, but I’d also like to think that as a dominant he didn’t feel a need to question or doubt.
Somehow I’d like to think that each and every one of us was created with our own individual idiosyncracies to fill the holes in the great jigsaw puzzle of life. For every piece with four straight sides, there is another piece with four straight sides that joins to it. And for every piece with a part that’s missing, there is a piece with a part to fill that hole. I’d like to think that even those that are kinked can fit snuggly together, even if we’re not all straight-sided.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and
He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So he loves also the bow that is stable.