I'm versatile!

Every once in a while, I get a real surprise. Today, it was discovering that I've been added to the "Versatile Blogger" group. *squeeee* It's so silly, but being "read from afar" and having readers "lurk in the corners" is still pretty awesome in my mind.



So..um...what do I have to do with this award? Life is full of rules and regulations, and the Versatile Blogger Award is no different. So let’s get that out of the way first:

THE RULES
1. Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs you enjoy reading.
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

Kaya was the one that I was tapped by. Like her, I read and lurk Under His Hand. Occasionally I think I have something to contribute to her thoughts, but mostly I am fascinated with her story.

Seven things...hmmm. In other blogs, people have taken to trying to find seven things that were unknown. That's tough. I generally think I am an open book. Well, maybe you don't know this:

1) Ever since the summer my dad paid me a nickle per weed pulled from the lawn, I've been a little annoyed with grass and lawns. They ain't natural, and while I love to walk on lush, green grass, I am just not up for the work and chemicals it would take. I've talked lots about my solution, though...rip out the grass and put in a native garden!

2) I was scolded in kindergarten for not playing with the baby dolls with the other girls. Or maybe it was just that Sister Kolavan foresaw my future because of my friendships with so many of the boys? *shrug* She also wanted to hold me back because I tied my shoes with two "bunny ears" and held my pencil "wrong". Guess what? I still do!

3) I avoid cooking Mexican/Latin food. This one's weird because I like the food and I'm not afraid of dabbling in Asian complexities, but there is something about mole, atole, and queso blanco that makes me wary of trying recipes.

4) I would like to learn more "Depression-Era" skills...canning, preserving, sewing, wild-crafting. Skills that lead to self-sufficiency. *shrug* I'm a little less thrilled with learning to dress kills, but I could probably do it.

5) I have never had an address outside of Illinois. I have traveled lots, but always come home.

6) When I went for my colposcopy in October, the doctor announce that my cervix "is a perfect specimen" and asked if he could call his nurses in for a look. WTF? I already had one person poking my privates, what's 2 or 3 more?

7) My favorite cereal is probably Quaker Oats Life.

Small problem with the whole "pass it on" rule: I don't think I read 15 blogs regularly! There are a couple of private blogs I read, but can't share those. Most folks have already been awarded...but here are a couple I enjoy that I haven't seen awarded yet:

Submissive Reflections - hasn't been active in months, though
Opening Doors, Turning Corners by BootPig
Crumbs in my Cleavage by Ninian Taboo
BDSM is Love by LunaKM

Awake

I am awake. I am filled with a practical sense of contentment and accomplishment. The hurts my body complains of are results of my growing leaner, stronger. The wetness between my thighs remind me that I was thoroughly ravaged by Beloved merely hours ago. The silver in my hair reveals my true nature, both mature and magical. The callouses on my hands tell of the time spent in the garden and the bruises on my arms speak of success in moving a truckload of "stuff" out of the house. The small wrinkles about my eyes and mouth speak to a happy life.

And yet, I am awake. My mind ripples with thoughts. Who will be where when, and what needs to happen to ensure that? Commitments for tomorrow, responsibilities for this week, plans for the month. All of what I can and do accomplish is broken down into pieces and steps and reassembled into possibilities. Mine is the gift to make lesser miracles happen regularly and predictably, and I am wonderful at what I do. Knowing that I can I provide and bring happiness, it is a pleasure to be of service.

And still, at 3am, I am awake. There's a craving to relinquish all my worries, to surrender my struggles, to be completely owned and loved and protected. I yearn for a sense of purpose and direction instead of the nebulous "freedom" I have staying home. As the leaves fall, I find myself already expanding my garden in the spring. I wish to feel clay beneath my hands, slipping and shaping like a magic art to create bowls and cups to adorn the table. There's a longing for soft caresses, firm hands, warm firelight. There's a desire for the slightly giddy feeling of being uninhibited. I want to spread my wings, feel the wind in my hair, taste the starlight on my tongue.

Thus, I am awake. I cannot sleep when my daydreams are so vivid.

Worthy

For four and a half years, I have struggled with D/s concepts. The nebulous life of being a stay-at-home mom removed many of my external limitations and rewards. I have sought guidance through "The Books" only to discard them as ill-fitting. I have had my stomach roll looking at contracts because of the chill-coldness of them. I have cried and screamed and begged for direction because I am lost with no path, and then I have gotten angry when I stumble on the uneven terrain of the path I've been offered.

There are some hard lessons to understand how important and deeply I held my submission. It isn't about the physical...the protocols to memorize or the endurance of a scene. The emotional pain of failing or disappointing can drop me faster than a heavy beating. The sharp spiral I could create for myself was often seated in the quest for perfection. The problem is that the perfection is in MY eyes, not his.

My need to get beyond this grows to an almost undeniable roar...I want to be the me you say you see...I want to know she is me. ~The1muse

Perhaps the greatest service Beloved does for me is to tell me to STOP. It isn't about the dust bunnies behind the couch or the marker on the wall or how well (or poorly) I remember protocols...it is about him and me. He loves me, not what I do.

He has dragged me to bed, cuffed my ankle, and then taken the children out so I could...would...rest. He has waded into my emotional whirlpools and pulled me out. Just last week, when I was despairing over being long-passed trespasses, he had tears of frustration and love in his eyes when he told me, "It isn't your right to forgive. I was the one who was betrayed, and I have the right to forgive you. STOP denying my right to forgive you. Stop denying all the people who love you. Let it go."

Even now, I sit stunned at his words. He has asked that I surrender my faults, my flaws, my insecurities so I may be absolved. I don't know that I quite understood how tightly and fiercely I have nursed my own label as a failure.

This is no game we play; this isn't about the toys or the protocols or the little kinks that we enjoy from time to time in the bedroom. This is the real thing.

I'm scared. Who am I if I let it go? What will happen if I truly am happy? Can I give up feeling unworthy and surrender that much? Am I willing to be worthy?