Musing

I have been amused today. By this I mean I have had contact with the source of much of my writing and since then have had words flying around my head desperate to be formed into sentences and let loose to fly my world. This source is not placed only in a person, although it is there I encounter it most often, but is present in a state of being that means I can access more freely the part of myself that has wings.

I am talking about eye, my alterego that amplifies my best aspects.  Who is confident, sexy and present. Who knows her worth is beyond measure or explanation. Who seeks no validation for her existence external to herself. Who is content to have been called to the forefront of my life by one who saw her.

eye doesn’t just have wings. She is a soaring, wonderful thing that is flight itself and that knows her value is not measured in there being only her but is infinite and entirely without end. She is not diluted by there being other souls in the world who love and have been loved in a web that connects us all. She acknowledges those connections and doesn’t seek to negate or wipe them out because they do not and could not take anything from her.

There have been others. Who of us could say there have not? There were/are partners and loved ones in all of the various entanglements over the years. We are all too midlife to be unencumbered or clean of pre-existing connection. Although my fragile ego sustains a shock when she comes up against the reality of not being the centre of the world, it is no longer a fatal wound. I can cope with that knowledge and I know I could disappear down that jealous, possessive, victimised rabbit hole again, believe me I have been there, but I won’t as long as I have a choice about it.  Instead I commit to focus on love and on what connects us, and what connects us besides our love, is our creativity.

Writers, artists all, we struggled to find our voices, but they were released by contact with being seen and known and enjoyed and celebrated and loved. I cannot nor will not regret that or wish it had not happened for anyone else.

Like Icarus, some will always fly too close to the sun, the source of the heat that warms us, some however, continue on a long, eliptical orbit, sometimes closer, sometimes further away, sometimes accompanied by other satellites, always drawn and eventually repelled.  One doggedly kept moving closer, ever closer, seeking a chest with a dip that fitted her hand and a place to be wrapped, held and soothed. 

A trained hawk needs a Master, an arm on which to perch and a reason for return. I cannot change my hawkish nature nor would I want to.  I am who I am and I am happy with that.

I was told a long time ago that ‘I will hurt you but I will not harm you’, and this I have experienced. The strange thing about pain in a power exchange is that the giver of it becomes simultaneously the source of it, the defence against it penetrating too far and a bulwark of strength to withstand it. This strength,  and the strength generated by the vulnerability required to allow the pain, is then available to both parties.

I seek to bring this strength to my interactions. My vulnerability matches His desire and transforms it into pleasure, into courage and determination, into life.

It is this energy I need as I rebuild my life brick by brick. This transformative meeting of the pain of loss, betrayal and grief is the engine that drives me onward.

I no longer seek a painfree life. I seek one that is vivacious, connected and integral. I seek a life grabbed and squeezed until the pips pop. I seek a life commited, content, with privacy but no more secrets.

I seek a life filled with desire and a Muse 💋❤️💋

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