The Toughest Life Lesson

“Life is tough, but it's tougher when you're stupid.” –John Wayne  

I've not blogged for a few months.  As with life, it is not one reason but several.  I took a couple of evening classes at the community college to spruce up my resume.  I was annoyed by texts from people who read my blog and thought is was directed at them.  Responsibilities at home, at work and traveling to fetish events all added to me not blogging.  

Sometimes a thought would creep to the forefront of my mind: "Blog. Blog. Blog."  But ya know...just wasn't feeling it.  In the past I would have thrown up a smattering of postings, and again, not for one reason but several.  Knowing others check my blog daily, I do feel a responsibility to create. I have jotted in my notepad many paragraphs of thoughts for blogging, so why not take some time to move them from paper to the web?  I don't like how I feel when I start something and then stop due to outside pressures.  I don't like when I cannot be doing what I want because I have a commitment to obligations outside of "me". 

I didn't want to complete a blog because I know those who check it out or follow me would appreciate a few more tidbits of stuff I don't share normally over a cup of tea.  One of the toughest life lessons for me to 'get it' is doing life at my speed and in my time.  One of the toughest life lessons for me is that I need to balance my life direction with the life directions of my family.  I mean, like, what's more difficult than staying true to a life path while not being seduced by one’s ego?

I Can't Get Off

“Disturbing emotions not only disturb our own state of mind, they also disturb the minds of others.” --Dalai Lama

I know I’ve touched on this before, however it still has an everyday significance in our lives.  Let’s say spiritual, religious or personal practice isn’t your thing.  But you want to make a change or two to lessen the stress in your life.  I suggest this one change: do not keep people who are emotionally imbalanced in your life.

Vivian Green sings about it in Emotional Rollercoaster.  Everything she does to stay balanced is for not because she believes she cannot leave her lover’s emotional rollercoaster.  Lover, friend, co-worker, family – doesn’t matter the relationship.  What matters is realizing that there is energy sucking activity going on.  Personally the only sucking I like is either clit or cock.  Okay, add a nipple or two.  You can suck my toes; however, I will not suck yours.  Apologies, I digress.

The person (or persons) who want to draw you into their mire of emotional wreckage cannot, or will not, produce their own balance.  They truly need your energy to give them solace.  You can continue to use your energy to bolster their ride.  Or you can use your energy to create balance in your life.  Choices, choices, choices.  I’ve spent the past fifteen years allowing others to use my energy for their gain.  No more.  Today I use my energy for my balance, my life choices.  I invite you to do the same. 

The Creation Myth

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

I was talking with someone the other day after a meeting.  He shared with me he was anxious to leave and get home to check the mail.  He was waiting for a letter (which was a week late) and if it wasn’t in the mailbox, he was going to call the firm’s office.  I commented that it was almost 8 o’clock at night and no one would be there to address his concern.  Silence.  I quipped, “There is always a tomorrow.”  He replied, “Ya have to live like there is no tomorrow.”

He is right.  There is no tomorrow.  Tomorrow is an idea.  It does not exist, it will never exist.  To have thoughts about a tomorrow is to invite dissatisfaction.  The future, as we script it in our imagination, never comes to pass the way we envision it.  Tomorrow will always fall short when compared to those vividly crafted dreams reworked to perfection. 

I am right.  Another day will dawn.  There will be another moment beyond this one.  Though this moment is what matters the most, it does not stay still.  It evolves into another moment.  And another.  Eventually the moon will settle against the horizon and give way to a rising sun.   What is not a given is that I, a sentient being, may not be here to experience the next day.

Most people create a tomorrow in which they exist in it.  I believe it is from this premise we set ourselves up for continuous disappointment, or constant suffering.  Attachment occurs when I believe my existence is crucial to the sun rising in the morning.  Illusions begin when I act on the belief that the waxing of the moon requires my existence.  Such nonsense.  Yet we all go about our days making choices and taking action based upon this silliness.  Want to live like there’s no tomorrow?  Then live in this moment.  And nothing more.

Guess Who?

“The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere.” –Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Staying silent.  Leaving out pertinent information during conversations.  Conscious bait-and-switch.  Subconscious behavioral patterns.  Fear-based reactions.  Attachments.

I find most people get into relationship trouble, especially in the fetish community, when they are not honest with themselves.  Don’t tell me you want to be someone’s play toy and then cry foul when you don’t get lovey, dovey texts throughout the day.  What would possess a kinky-only-in-the-bedroom type to submit a petition to be a collared slave?

I’m at that stage with my meditation where the shit bubbling up is self involved.  Sometimes it’s boring stuff.  Sometimes it’s scary stuff.  Whatever comes to the surface helps me keep an even keel in the sometimes confusing waters of FetishLand.  I encounter my share of biases.  For some I am “not real” because I won’t play privately with people I don’t know well.   For some I am “responsible” because I keep myself safe by playing in public play spaces.  Regardless of what others think, I am me.  Sometimes I get a meanie bug up my ass and one could tag my role as Sadist.  Sometimes I want to cause pain and  portray the pornographic image of a Dominatrix; therefore, you could identify me as a Service Top.  When I get the hots for someone who only wants it in the bedroom and then call me kinkster.

Every so often on FetLife a group discussion pops up about what constitutes a _______.  Fill in the blank with a FetLife role or what I refer to as a personal designation.  Today mine is posted as a Domme.  The dilemma I encounter with any fetish social network is the understanding of what these roles mean.  Someone asked me once if I was a Sadist.  My reply was, “I can be.”  I don’t hide the ebbs and flows of what comprises “me”.  And I know several others who don’t hide themselves.  For others who are stuck on the labels and the pigeonholes, this can be irritating.  For those who are aloof towards the labels, there is liberation.  For those who are releasing the attachments to roles or designations, there is life.

Hi! My name is...

“Good judgment comes from experience, and often experience comes from bad judgment.”  --Rita Mae Brown

I have a Crossdressing.com profile.  I am on Twitter.  I have a Facebook page; though, I think I need to delete it.  I have a FetLife profile that is pretty barebones.  To the Fet World I show my links to this blog and my Rockin’ Robin tweets, tweets.  My reason for being such an information minimalist isn’t that I’m too lazy, too uppity, or too indifferent  to complete the profile in a traditional manner.  It is because I want you to get to know me through meeting me.  I am active on FetLife in order to know about events, to RSVP for the events I can get to, and to use their e-mail to keep in touch with friends.  That’s it.  I’m not advertising today for anyone or anything.  I’m going to munches, events, and workshops.  I meet people while I’m out and about doing devious and dubious shit.

Gone are the days of putting myself out there on a site, baring my soul and using electronic connections to make my personal connections.  The last two times I did this I got seriously singed.  If you take a whiff in my direction you may still pick up the lingering odor of burnt soul.  And I ain’t talking about fish sticks.

I cannot harp on this point enough.  Get off the computer every so often.  Go to a munch.  Go to an event.  Talk to real live-in-the-flesh people.  Assess how they carry themselves.  Do they look you in the eye when you are talking to them?  Do they listen to your questions?  What kinds of replies do you get?  Do they ask you about yourself?  Do they share equally about themselves?

There are several attributes and traits that are real turnoffs for me.  Like I don’t mind being cut off in conversations as long as the other person is completing my sentences, thoughts or is adding to the conversation.  However the act of cutting me off is annoying when someone does it to draw attention towards themselves.  Of course the consistent use of ‘coulda’, shoulda’ and oughta’ makes me want to run for the hills.  You can catch a little bit of this through emails or from a profile; however, most control freaks have learned to hide this aspect of themselves when writing.

So from my previous experiences exercising bad judgment I have learned something about myself.  I like to meet people.  I enjoy hearing their stories and sharing mine.  I like to laugh, smile and be nerdy-silly.  I enjoy people who have a positive outlook and are willing to laugh along side of me.  And who don’t mind me quoting a movie line or doing awful impersonations .  Because around me you never know…  Is it safe? … Is it safe?

My Connections

There are two types of people - those who come into a room and say, "Well, here I am!" and those who come in and say, "Ah, there you are."  --Frederick L. Collins

I attend fetish events to go to workshops, have opportunity to meet really great people and to soak in the energy of being in “play-space”.  No fetish attire.  I wear simple black t-shirts, denims and black Army boots.  No hooking up.  If I want a relationship with you (even a strictly sexual one), you will give me time after the event.  I view the lifestyle as a path to expand my sense of sense.  It is not about getting some nookie.  It may have been how I entered the lifestyle; however, I am not that 20 something nymphet going to swinger parties and falling into the rabbit hole by way of an errant invitation. 

Today I am connecting with people who come into the room and say, “Ah, there you are!”  And it won’t matter we haven’t seen each other for a year or so.  The joy to reconnect will fuse time into a trivial concern.  What I’m wearing won’t matter.  Nor will their happiness to see me be contingent upon the possibility of me to drop my drawers.

I believe part of the reason so many people have post event ‘drop’ is because they attend thinking that this is *it* until the next event.  When I leave an event, I am excited.  I know that over the next few months I’m going to connect with some really great people.  (Doing my happy dance right now!)

Getting Back On Track

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” --Joseph Campbell

When I was starting out my adult life I had opportunities that would have taken me down roads of professional success.  However what I choose was laid back opportunities so I could take time off to travel.  Meeting people, seeing places, having experiences, learning first hand through action – these are what I craved.  (And I still do.)  Then shit happened.  I started to make decisions not based upon what sang to my soul, but decisions to feed my ego.  I have to live with the consequences of actions I took all those years ago. 

I made one decision.  And many more followed.  I made them in order to cling to a sense of belonging with people who said they loved me.  I felt important and special.  However as time went on I began to realize I was unhappy with the compromises I made.  I spent to the past twenty years making one concession after another.  I’ve made plans with specific outcomes in mind.  Sometimes they were about pride and stubbornness.  Sometimes they sprung from foolishness and self-gratifying materialism.

I have spent the past year or so grieving for the death of these plans I made many years ago.  I meditate upon the knowledge that dreams of an idealistic 20 and 30 something are not the core of my identity, my sense of purpose.  As I am a stone’s throw from my 50s, I have started to unravel that which I tangled myself up into.  I am choosing to return to a laid back a way of being.  It may not add to my pension fund, several residences or a new car every three years, however I see what life has waiting for me.

Let's Make a Deal!

"The petty man is eager to make boasts, yet desires that others should believe in him. He enthusiastically engages in deception, yet wants others to have affection for him. He conducts himself like an animal, yet wants others to think well of him." –Xun Zi

I want to think people are inherently good.  I get happy thoughts when I think everyone is willing to do a good deed and has compassion in their heart.  I want to believe good triumphs over evil.  Sadness drapes over me when I think about all the Lord-of-the-Flies evil shit that happens in life.  Some of it isn’t out right evil.  Some of it is just avoidable pathetic crap.

My father had a seizure several years back.  My folks were living in Arizona at the time.  Dad had to surrender his license to the State once the hospital informed the DMV.  Because he had lost consciousness and control of his body, he has to surrender his license for several months.  So when someone goes on and on and on about all the seizures they have, describing how they lose consciousness and walk into walls while having a seizure, well needless to say I start asking questions.  When did you last see your doctor? Does your doctor know about these episodes?  When I hear the replies of “Recently” and “Yes”, I conclude either of two possibilities.  One is that the hospital or doctor is violating the requirement they report all episodes of seizures that involve a person losing consciousness, the ability for a person to control their muscles, and there’s a third criteria, however I forgot what it is.  Two, they person is lying.  When someone says it happened once, I’m going with what’s behind Door# 1.  When a person states this is an ongoing, repeating occurrence that medical professionals are aware of, I’m definitely choosing what’s behind Door#2.

From AZ to BZ

“You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer 'yes' without having asked any clear question.” –Albert Camus

Oh, how true this is.

I divide my life into two phases:  before Zen (BZ) and after Zen (AZ).  During the BZ part of my life, I gravitated towards people who used charm as their social survival tool.  I didn’t see it for what it was.   I thought I had simply met someone who was as spontaneous as I was.  After some deep reflection and lots of sitting a few feet from the wall, I began to understand the difference.  They sell the figurative form as a literal structure.  Several in my life were selling it and I spent about 20 years buying it.  Sad to admit it but it’s true.

The last charmer in my life got me to buy that he needed $20 to attend an AA meeting because it was a closed meeting.  He explained to me ‘closed’ meant he had to pay in advanced for the whole month.  And each meeting was $5.  A year later I went to Al-anon meetings for a few months.  It was about the third meeting someone mentioned which meetings in town were ‘open’ and which were ‘closed’.  It had nothing to do with paying in advance and ALL meetings were donation-based.  I proceeded to tell the group about how he obviously deceived me.  They dubbed my story as the best con anyone had heard in a while.

I’m starting to become comfortable with believing he may be a pathological liar.  I don’t like thinking I’ve invited evil people into my life and the lives of my family.  However this one con was just a small drop in the bucket of cons I later discovered.  He used to sneak out of the house after I fell asleep to go drinking.  And he would take my car instead of his to go out.  (That scratch on the car I said was new, he claimed was not.)  That mega-computer he built and spent thousands of dollars for custom components was nothing but a fancy shell with cheap, dated technology.  He told me his manager cut his hours at work and he would file for unemployment.  Supposedly his claim was denied and he filed an appeal.  And supposedly he went to a hearing.  I even received an elaborate string of texts telling me of everything talked about with the referee.  Later I found out he was fired for missing work and did not qualify for unemployment.  (Though I was paying his bills with the understanding the payment for back benefits would be deposited any day now.) 

These are just a few of the instances when I bought his fiction later to find out he was lying.  I can guess he never went to the hospital to be with his mother.  I bet dimes to doughnuts that his cousin wasn’t severely beaten outside a bar.  (I questioned why the incident wasn’t in the news.  He said thy family wouldn’t let the paper print it.)  I’m cynical about his tales of abuse.  I’m sure I’ll never know fully the extent of his deceit, nor will I entirely comprehend the damage I allowed to occur by buying his bullshit. 

Sometimes the worst cons we experience are self-imposed.  We do it to ourselves.  So I sit and stare at a wall.  And I celebrate being in the AZ part of my life.  Time to shed my own illusions.

Go-betweens

“The most dangerous untruths are truths moderately distorted.” –Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

I am leery around ‘go-betweens’.  I call them ‘tweeners.  There are two types.  Those who believe it is their duty as a friend, leader, parental figure, or whatever rocks their world to take your information, your news, your stories and share it with whomever.   The caveat is the intention of the’ tweener is to advance their standing in the group; it is never for your benefit.  The second type is those who believe they have a right to act on what is told to them by the other type of ‘tweener.  I know, I know.  Sounds a bit like Who’s on first, What’s on second and I Don’t Know is on third.

Please keep in mind I am strictly dealing with the actions of those who act excessively as go-betweens without your best interests at heart.  I’m not talking about the natural sharing which happens in healthy relationships.  Passing on information is a very normal way for people to communicate.  What is not normal, or healthy, is the sense of displaced ownership a ‘tweener has about your info, your news and your stories.

I used to be a hardcore ‘tweener.  I was addicted to the passing of info.  The some dastardly shit happened to me, my family and a handful of friends by my careless playing around in drama-rama land.  By passing on info as much as I did and by keeping people in my inner circle who fed off what I was dishing out, I started a chain of events.  By the time it was over, the blood in the water was mine and the sharks circle for a feeding frenzy.  It wasn’t about breaking confidences; it was about participating in bad juju.  For a period of almost seven years or so I lived this unrighteous lifestyle.  I realize now how I allowed myself to get played like a pawn.

I have shared my hurt, my anger when I’ve recognized ‘tweening in action and it was causing a bit of drama.  As a ‘tweener in recovery I thought they would appreciate my input.  Not true.  Instead of being thoughtful and apologetic, they became angry themselves.  Because it was never their fault.  It was the other person’s fault.   Or their actions were righteous if I could just understand their reason for doing what they did.  They are sorry something not nice happened from my end; however, they really did have my interest at heart.

Why I am cautious around these folk is they tend to be people who do not take much stock in personal accountability.  Another generalization is a ‘tweener has the attributes of a major gossip.  Lack of accountability mixed with some gossip equates to a lifestyle of drama.  We have all heard these statements: “She said that you were no longer having problems with it and everything was fine.  So I had no idea.”  “He said he had just talked to you.  He said you wanted me to do that, so I did.”

What do you want to hear when you say, “I was hurt by your actions.”?  Do you want to hear, “Sorry, but it wasn’t my fault cuz if Judy wouldn’t have made it sound like you were okay with it…?” Or “I apologize if my actions hurt you.  I won’t do it again.”

August 20, 2011

“Anything that contradicts experience and logic should be abandoned.” –His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Experience tells me that crazy shit can happen in our lives.  It also tells that many people take advantage of a generous nature in others.  Logic tells me it can’t rain every day.  It also stands to reason that nothing says up on a high forever.  Experience tells me that huge mood swings, the high highs and the low lows, are not nature states of being.  Logic tells me the day-to-day stuff as mundane as it is, presents us raw truth and clarity.

August 19, 2011

“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.” --Willa Cather

I’ve learned some important lessons from the people in my life over the years.  Here’s an impromptu list.

Debbie taught me ambitions based on sensual pleasures are fleeting.  Tim taught me to keep my phone face turned downward and hidden from view.  Joanne taught me women can be conniving philanders too.  Eric taught me how to guard my wallet and the best places where to hide bottles of booze.  Kathleen taught me not all strangers are a Good Samaritan.  Leslie taught me jealously can be a very destructive force.  Jenny taught me a drunk can throw a frozen turkey with a lot of force.  Mom taught me blood doesn’t always make a family.  Dad taught me brute force is a frustrated man’s weapon.  Mark taught me that sometime it’s not good to hang on for ‘old times sake’.  Mike taught me that emotions unchecked can stunt one’s growth.

July 31, 2011

"To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong.” -- Joseph Chilton Pearce

I was raised by a military stepfather and a selfish, jealous mother.  There was little room for error in our household, at least for me and my brother.    The folks could make the mistakes; little brother and I could not.  This glaring double standard, draped around parental apathy, left me struggling for many, many years.  Being wrong in our household meant ridicule, public shaming and corporal punishment.  And if I realized before they did that I had made a mistake, then holy shit!   Panic and fear would cut into my body and mind, my existence.  I would live with fear praying not to be found out.

Living with a perpetual fog of fear hanging over my head stunted me.  I spent years not moving, acting like a deer stuck in the headlights.  And when I did do some pretty bold and courageous stuff with my life, success was often thwarted by my fear-based, child-like reactions.  If adversity presented itself or if I realized I had erred, then I would stay silent waiting for bad shit to happen to me.  I would turn into a scared child and hide in the corners to escape shame, ridicule or a beating.  My parents raised a fear-based reactionary who ended up being used for target practice by some very deceitful people.  People who prey upon the wounded.

I made a conscientious choice a little more than a year ago to stop being afraid of making mistakes.  I mean, what was the worst that could happen?  Thousands of dollars of my savings and many valuables could be stolen by an alcoholic boyfriend.  My office staff could conspire with the county administration office to take my business by rerouting the grant funds and financially ruining me.  I could spend seven years in a relationship in which I am being systematically cheated on.  I mean, what really can happen that is worse than what had already happened?