Witchy Wednesday - What Makes Myself Me

"When I die, my body stops functioning. Five minutes later, my brain cells start dying. But in the meantime, in between, maybe my brain releases a flood of DMT – the psychedelic drug released when we dream – so I dream. I dream bigger than I have ever dreamed before because it’s all of it. Just the last dump of DMT all at once, and my neurons are firing and I’m seeing this firework display of memories and imagination. My mind’s rifling through the memories, long and short term, and the dreams mix with the memories. And it’s a curtain call. One last great dream as my mind empties the fuckin’ missile silos, and then I stop. My brain activity ceases and there is nothing left of me. No pain, no memory, no awareness that I ever was. That I ever hurt someone. That I ever killed someone. Everything is as it was before me. All of the other little things that make me up – the microbes and bacterium and the billion other little things that live on my eyelashes and in my hair and in my mouth and on my skin and in my gut and everywhere else, they just keep on living and eating. And I’m serving a purpose. I’m feeding life and I’m broken apart and all the littlest pieces of me are just recycled and I’m billions of other places. And my atoms are in plants and bugs and animals, and I am like the stars that are in the sky. There one moment and then just scattered across the goddamn cosmos.”

"Myself. My self. That’s the problem. That’s the whole problem with the whole thing. That word, “self.” Thats not the word. That’s not right, that isn’t…How did I forget that? When did I forget that? The body stops a cell at a time, but the brain keeps firing those neurons. Little lightning bolts, like fireworks inside and I thought I’d despair or feel afraid, but I don’t feel any of that. None of it. Because I’m too busy. I’m too busy in the moment. Remembering. Of course. I remember that every atom in my body was forged in a star. This matter, this body is mostly empty space after all, and solid matter? It’s just energy vibrating very slowly why there is no me. There never was. The electrons of my body mingle and dance with the electrons of the ground below me and the air I’m no longer breathing. And I remember there is no point where any of that ends and I begin. I remember I am energy. Not memory. Not self. My name, my personality, my choices, all came after me. I was before them and I will be after, and everything else is pictures, picked up along the way. Fleeting little dreamlets printed on the tissue of my dying brain. And I am the lightning that jumps between. I am the energy firing the neurons, and I’m returning. Just by remembering, I’m returning home. And it’s like a drop of water falling back into the ocean, of which it’s always been a part. All things… a part. You, me and my little girl, and my mother and my father, everyone’s who’s ever been, every plant, every animal, every atom, every star, every galaxy, all of it. More galaxies in the universe than grains of sand on the beach. And that’s what we’re talking about when we say “God.” The cosmos and its infinite dreams. We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It’s simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I’ll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams. But now, in this split-second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once. There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It’s a wish. Made again and again and again and again and again and again and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am."

Both of these quotes are from the television show Midnight Mass, found streaming on Netflix. I was so impressed and taken back by the beauty and simplicity of what's expressed in them. It's very different than what the majority of people I know think when they talk about what comes after this life. They aren't full of pearly gates and singing angels and tearful reunions with loved ones who have passed on before. It made me really think about what I believe about the afterlife. 

I have to believe that some part of us remains after the outer shell of our bodies die. I don't think this life is all there is. That thought is too depressing for me. 

I'm not sure I am fully sold on the idea of reincarnation, nor am I sure I would want that. We struggle and fight our way through life cherishing the few moments of happiness and fulfillment we are able to experience, and then when we die, we get sent back to go through it all again ... in the hopes of what? Learning one more speck of knowledge of about the world or oneself or whatever. The pain outweighs that speck, and I would hate to think whatever higher power set the world into motion would be that much of a sadist. 

Do I buy the idea of a Heaven and Hell .... or Elysian Fields and Tartarus ... or whatever you call your Paradise versus Everlasting Suffering? Maybe, but maybe not. I don't believe in the church's version necessarily. Dante's vision of it is interesting intellectually, but it's too mired in dogma. I think if we buy into the idea that we go to one place or the other that each is made up from our own conceptions of them. Hell is of our own making, and so is Heaven. I think it would be different for everyone. I have resonated with the evolving personal Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory presented by the movie What Dreams May Come. If that's the sort of Afterlife we all get, and I have been kind enough to go to the Good Place in the end, I hope I get to exist in my happiest moments.  A cabin by the river in the mountains that I love. Visits from all of my loved ones. A meadow to run with the dogs I loved as much as I did the people. A crowded table full of delicious foods with a chair for everyone who has made my existence a little richer, a little happier, a little more full.

While that thought is nice, it's not the one that brings me the most peace and contentment. In the end, I hope I know what it was all for ... the why, the who, the why not ... just KNOW. And then knowing that Knowing wasn't as important as I had thought because there is so much more to being than simply knowing. The body and both its pleasures and pains are gone, but "I" remain. Not the I that I thought I was maybe or that I had always been because it was so entwined with the physical body and the limited scope of the human mind. I would be the "I" I could have always been if I had not been so confined. Light, effervescent, large and small, solid and vapor. Aware of myself but so much more than I had ever "been" before. I could be the little gust of wind that lifts a leaf off the ground and dances it round and round through the air. I could be the current that rushes water through the rocks of the stream. I could be the sunlight that helps the Spring flowers break the surface of the snow. To be an unfettered and eternal part of everything, tied to the Universe and to its Creator in ways that I never could be in my mortal form. And then as time goes on (if time exists outside of mortality at all), we grow less and less "I" and then just "Are." We exist to be what needs to be at any given moment. Raw energy to be formed and used and reformed but always there.

The Freedom to be Liberated

I suppose I have to put a disclaimer at the beginning of this. If you aren't into women’s liberation, you probably shouldn't keep reading. I’m not talking your average, politically correct feminist movement rhetoric. I’m not talking about demanding equal pay in the workplace, the right to work outside the home, a woman’s right to choose when it comes to reproduction rights, etc. I’m talking about true social and sexual liberation.  All women (and men) have a right to choose what feels right for them and their life, and that can change as they change. It’s not the world’s place to judge them for it, but to accept that we are all different and need different things in order to feel fulfilled and happy. If what makes me happiest doesn't hurt you or infringe on anyone’s right to be who they need to be, then there is no place for judgment. If these notions aren't something you feel you can stomach, I’d suggest you stop reading now … or don’t … it’s your choice.

That being said … I suppose here I go.

In my everyday life, whether I am leading or following, I am a doer. I plan, I organize, and I get things done. That’s what I am good at. I've been a teacher, a healthcare advocate, and an editor. Deadlines are a spur to action, and I’m good at getting things done in a pinch. I enjoy the challenge. I can work on a team, but I like doing things on my own and in my own way. I can be a tad obsessive compulsive about organization and promptness sometimes, but luckily I've made it work in my favor more often than not. I’m independent, stubborn (downright bull-headed at times I know), curious, adventurous, and more than a little impulsive.

In my personal life, a lot of those same things apply most of the time. There are some important exceptions though. I’m a submissive. I’m not talking this 50 Shades of Gray bullshit. I made the choice to pursue this avenue, to allow this part of myself the freedom to grow. No one coerced me into anything. I wasn't manipulated or tricked into it. I made and keep making a conscious, intelligent, informed decision about what is best for me, and so far I've found being a part of this lifestyle works well for me. I am a submissive, and I don’t feel like I’m betraying a generation of feminists to be one. It doesn't mean I’m submissive to everyone. I’m not a doormat to be stepped on by anyone who comes through it. That’s not me, and that’s not 99% of the people I know who identify as submissive.

Don’t call me a slave, and don’t treat me like you think a slave should be treated. Submissive and slave is not the same thing, and everyone has their own definition of each. I'm not saying it is wrong to be a slave. I have served under that title, and for that time with that person, it was right. There are positives and negatives as there are with any relationship. Most of it was positive. Still, for my own reasons, it is not a place I choose to go again myself. I don’t regret having experienced it once. It lets me know I can trust another person enough to wield that sort of control and come out the other side a stronger person for it. That’s not a bad thing to know about yourself. It's just not how I define myself and my relationships now.

I am a submissive, unapologetic and happy with that fact even though I feel like I have to defend my right to be one with some people. Being in charge is great, but sometimes it is just nice to not be in control. It’s liberating. I can hand over the reins to someone I trust implicitly, and I can be secure in the knowledge that together our power exchange needs will be met in a safe, sane, and consensual fashion.  Do you know how hard that is to find in any lifestyle? To be able to put yourself in someone else’s hands and trust them enough to say I’m yours for this moment, this hour, this evening, this lifetime? By nature, I don’t trust easily, so it is even harder for me to let go completely. When I am able to do that though … it is amazing.

The pleasure of knowing that I pleased the person I’m choosing to serve fills a void that I haven’t been able to fill with anything else. Despite the drivel literature mentioned above, it’s not necessarily sexual service. For me, it’s almost always not that at all. It could be shining someone’s shoes to a high polish  so that they look extra nice when we go somewhere. It could be reorganizing a kitchen cupboard with a friend’s needs in mind as I place each item. It could be hosting a dinner party. It could be wearing a collar and leash out to a club or a private event to show ownership if only for a night. Different people enjoy being served in different ways, and different submissives enjoy serving in different ways.

I’m also a sexual masochist. Nothing bad happened in my past to make me that way. My parents weren't abusive. I didn't have a bad home life. I’m not mentally ill. I’m just hardwired to feel some forms of pain a little differently. The right combinations of pain can be heavenly. It makes getting multiple hour tattoos very interesting and somewhat embarrassing.  There are Dominants and sadists who are masterful at providing interesting and mind-blowing combinations. It takes a certain level of finesse and creativity and patience to make it last as long as it needs to for all involved to feel satisfied at the closure. I let go of control, surrender to the experience itself … there’s nothing better. I’m not thinking about everything I need to do tomorrow or creating grocery lists in my head or worrying about this or that. It’s all emotion and sensation and sound and need and want and must have. It’s a give and a take of power, an intoxicating dance I hope I never have to give up completely. Sometimes it is slow and sensual and teasing, and sometimes it’s hard and fast and brutal. Sometimes it is playful and light, and sometimes it is scary. Combined with the Dominant/Submissive exchange, it can be gently loving or deadly serious. It depends on what each person needs at the time. With the right person, that exchange of power can be very very good.

Is my life for everyone? No. Is it for me? The past 23 years of experiences, good and bad, have proven over and over again that it is right for me. Are my experiences typical of those who share my lifestyle? I don’t know. We are all so different. Not every submissive is a masochist. Not every Dominant is a sadist.  There are so many labels, and not all of us can be easily defined with them. Is the lifestyle I have chosen to participate in inherently dangerous and abusive as unfortunately so often it is portrayed in the media? No. Is it always safe, and are the people always good, honest individuals? No. You get that with every group of people though. I've done things that are dangerous and stupid. Sure. I will be the first to admit I’m lucky that I haven’t been hurt. It’s been a trial and error process, but over the years I've developed a system of communication, negotiation, and safeguarding that has worked for me.

Maybe if we were more open about things like this, if we as a society were less judgmental regarding people who are different than the norm, we could have the discussions needed openly to create a safer environment for everyone involved. At this point, that responsibility falls on each individual person who chooses to be active in this lifestyle. No matter if you are submissive, Dominant, Switch, sadist, masochist, top, bottom, or something altogether different, you have to take responsibility for your own safety and well-being before you can do that for or with your partner. You have to choose if this life is right for you and then find out what version of it best suits your needs. I’m happy with my version, and I hope anyone else who follows a path similar to mine finds their own happy version as well.