SJW 2011

I have noted before that it is common that people write about Big Stuff and Bad Stuff...but that writing on the good things is less common. I think that is something to contemplate, because I have such a feeling of acceptance and peace right now. I've been watching tidbits of SJW posts appear on Fet though the day. I've been waiting for some quiet to "verbalize" what happened this weekend.

I was part of the core staff this year. That meant arriving Thursday and assisting with the site set-up, although that was practically a greased wheel. The part that was a little breath-taking was that I was so readily accepted by these amazing people whom I've held in awe for years. I was still feeling a little shy and nervous, and I was told to relax a little. *wry smile* I couldn't. Although I finally sat down and joined the conversations, I continued to roll wash clothes. When I was (rightfully) scolded for starting to fill tuppers, I wandered off to bed.

Friday morning arrived with fresh coffee and danishes and a shivery anticipation of SJW beginning. As people trickled in, I showed them to their rooms. It was so much fun to bring the new attendees through the lodge and hear them 'ooohhh' and 'ahhhh' at the surroundings. It is an awesome place that Kendell found for certain, but three years of returning, I noted places that could have used some more maintenance. I drifted through check-in, catching friends in hugs and squeals of glee, finding and introducing myself to my team.

SJW officially opens with a group meeting to cover general rules and event details. This year, the theme is "the masks we wear"...each participant was given a paper-mache mask and a Sharpie. We were to write things that we hide from the world on the inside...things that we need to work on. I knew immediately what I was going to write. We were to add to it through the next day or so.

After the group opening, we broke into our teams and I wasn't quite sure what to say. For me, SJW almost always brings more QUESTIONS than answers. As a team leader, I was supposed to be available...one stranger among all the strangers to turn to if things needed addressing. I tried to project earnest and welcome and comfort, and finally dismissed them to the first session.

I had benefited from bootblacking and intuitive service LAST year, so I sat in on the art of tea. We started with talking about the origin and types of tea, and then ventured into tea-tasting. I dodged out of the last third of the class to set up the "Spoil Someone Special" class in the pool.

The class went well. *wry smile* There are all KINDS of things that *I* wish had been different, but in general, the group of 26 (!) seemed to enjoy the offerings. As they soaked their feet in wading pools, I offered and encouraged suggestions for personalizing the space, the treatments, and the "aftercare" of spa-at-home opportunities. The peppermint foot salts were used and rinsed off in the pools. Then we did a baking soda hand scrub that surprised people with it's effects, followed by a honey-sugar lip treatment. Finally, we opened the lotion packs. Because we finished soooo early, I passed around the essential oils I had brought, explaining briefly how they could be used to personalize the lotion. It was just a fun class, although I hope that some of it will be actually used after the weekend.

Dinner was a fabulous feast of barbeque chicken and ribs, corn, baked beans, and salad, with cupcakes for dessert. It is the wonder of having a slave-to-a-chef on staff!

The evening was low-key. A lot of people, myself included, were tired from traveling. I turned in reasonably early.

Saturday morning began with yoga. While she might beg off as an amatuer, I was surprised to feel the stretch for the next couple of days. I would really like to get back in the habit of working out!!! Returning to the lodge, we were greeted with another feast, this time of buscuits, bacon, eggs, and fruit. YUMMMM!

I presented "Thrifty Treasures" four times in the next two hours. I had doubts about this class, because it is hard to verbalize what I consider a fun (and necessary) hobby. It's also a challenge because I spend a lot of TIME (all told) wandering thrift stores, and I have a lot of stores to choose from. I think people enjoyed it; at least one tip was repeated often enough to get back to me.

Of course, *I* missed the team meeting, much to the amusement of the team, and I got ribbed for mixing up my times, but they connected and checked in with each other, and I guess (I hope?) that was really the important piece. We ate lunch and then our team cleaned up. *laughs* It's funny to have 7 submissives trying to clean one kitchen. There was seriously NOTHING for me to do, other than occasionally direct.

After lunch cleanup, I settled in for the poly DISCUSSION. *sigh* I am very familiar with polyamory, and the setting for this session is just not ideal. Everyone has their own poignant background. Each person has a unique situation. It is, in my opinion, impossible to avoid offending SOMEONE. My faux pas this year was repeating another participant's analogy: primaries as 'broken down old trucks' and secondaries as 'new red Ferraris'. Ironically, it was a secondary who too objection to it. I *think* that the majority of the discussion was good, if somewhat limited to basic intro stuff. The discussion probably would have gone on for hours if there had been time. My co-leader said afterwards that even if we dedicated the whole weekend to the topic, it wouldn't be enough time.

We did the Ask-It-Basket for anonymous questions. Some were painful, some brutal, some were just light-hearted. Many of them applied to more than one person, which is a help. The next phase of the masks was presented: On the front, put things that we want to see in ourselves. Like a visionboard. There were crafty crap, some magazines, and whatever we could find to use available to help with this part.

Session IV is where I began to stumble. I probably *should* have taken a nap...that was what I *wanted* to do...but this was the only session Beloved and I had both agreed sounded interesting. So, I went to the session. When it wasn't what I was hoping for, and worse, gave me the sinking-stomach feeling, I *should* had gotten up and left...but I didn't because "that would be rude", "it would hurt the presenter's feelings", "the topic might drift into something I could use..." Yeah. By the end, I was tottering inside, and even asking for help, grabbing a shower, and eating a fantastic supper (shrimp and veggie kabobs and saffron rice!) didn't quell the distress.

I attended a presentation on spirituality, only half listening. The part that struck me was how myths are the greatest truth, because they are not ONE person's story but a story retold and adapted and passed on. I later incorporated that into my ideal self-concept.

The class ended on a meditative note, and I could feel the buildup inside. I disappeared to my bed and fell apart. I thought about journalling, but I couldn't verbalize the pains. I tried to work on the positive mask images and found nothing that resonnated with me. I called Beloved and he talked me down some. My roomies came in to prepare for the S&M tastes, and one stayed to talk. When I said I was just a little fish, she shook her head. "You are a shark, with some little suckers who feed on you, who you protect without even realizing it." A shark? Me? I mean I can see the second and third part...but a big fish? She told me she even reads my journal from time to time. I'm overwhelmed that I have 10 "signed-up" followers...but that there are more lurkers...??? wow...

An off-handed comment about the blank mask gave me enough permission to leave it. Instead, I lightly colored the lips and eyes, and I wrote around the very edge the things that I thought might be fulfilling. I was very pleased with the result.

I read a chapter of my book, losing myself to the quiet and giving myself permission to relax. I then wandered out to find my singer and apologize for missing her performance (which got huge applause and I heard was fantastic). I brought her my mask, which led to a couple of questions about the dichotomy I struggle with...and I went to pieces. Time lost meaning as I tried to explain, circling the questions I've asked myself so many times. She didn't accept my bluffs, delving for more truth. I lost myself, feeling small and childish. I screamed that it wasn't MY FAULT...that it's okay to be angry at *her* because it wasn't my fault. That rocked the world. Quietly, she told me it was okay to be mad. Minutes passed as I wept. Finally, the question came..."Her who?"

It's not a story that is unfamiliar...it's about my mom being diagnosed with cancer when I was 8, after managing through my sisters' and my father's surgeries. It's about stepping up and taking on the responsibilities of "head of household" before I was 12, and making adult choices when I was 14. It's about the agony and hurt and frustration of dealing with things that a kid should never, ever have to deal with.

Listening, completely open-hearted, with the detatched-social-worker-logic, she told me that this was no small thing. That it counts as severe emotional trauma. That people who experience this sort of thing often "get stuck" at that age. That perhaps the reason I have such a dichotomy is because I am fourteen...I never allowed myself the opportunity to explore and develop my sense of self that usually happens through the teen years. That I am trying to cope with all my experiences though the filter of a young teen who has faced some hard shit.

It was amazing!!! I wish I could explain...verbalize...how huge this is to me. Maybe it's obvious on the outside, but from the inside...I've been given a clue. I thought that I'd dealt with all this crap years and years ago, but maybe I haven't even scratched the surface. Maybe I AM struggling to define myself and my identity...not again...but for the first time! Maybe with help, I can address this and empty the closet, unlock my chains. Maybe there is hope after all!

These explosions are happening inside, but I don't know how to share the awesomeness of it. I flounder and said something about this gentle, loving friend being evil for causing that hurt. There was a wry laugh shared followed by hugs and I left the room.

I couldn't wait to tell Beloved about this breath-taking self-discovery, but it was edging on 1am. I compromised by texting him, figuring if he WAS still awake...HA! I'm glad he wasn't...he'd had his own dramas at home. I drifted of to sleep so at peace.

Sunday morning began with a dragging breakfast of biscuits, eggs, sausage, and yogurt. Most of us had been up too late the night before and the coffee went fast. Afterwards, we sat together for our group meeting at which we revealed something we HIDE, and what we want to BECOME.

I don't like that I don't like myself. I have a hard time letting go. These are things that I try to hide, sometimes by screaming them outloud, eh? *sigh* They are at least things I need to work on.

What I want to become? *smiles*

I am myself. I bring magic and possibility to all things. I am all that I dream and am capable of anything. I am mythic. I am Beloved's pixie.

It's written in a circle, so the phrases repeat, round and round, like a mantra. Although it is a mask, I hope it will become my mirror.

It was also announced that the founder and producer of SJW is stepping down. There were tears and choked sobs as she read the letter she had written us. The event has been passed into competent hands and will go on. Still, SJW was a dream. It takes a strong will to make a dream come true...and it takes a strong spirit to accept that your work is done and time has come to let go and move on.

Depending on the person, there were tears, laughter, ribbing, and hugs. The last meeting is always so powerful and so hard. Time is limited, though, so we break. It is joked that we usually have 20 minutes to pack, clean, and vacate the lodge. There are 35 submissives. Should we slow down?!? *laughs*

I checked the pool house and saw my sweet singer in tears on the porch. I knew exactly what had happened...she had taken my burden, my hurts, my misspoken words and been spiraling with them all night. I hugged her, kissed her, wiped her tears. I showed her the texts I had sent to Beloved before closing my eyes. I hope with all my heart that I can somehow convince her that Saturday night is a gift I treasure and will use to move forward. I am so sorry that it got mixed up!!! I think that she at least believed me when I said I loved her.

The cabin was given the all-clear. There are long goodbyes and plans made for lunch to draw out true parting as long as possible. The group I was with returned to The Old Mill. Being Mother's Day, several of us were graced with beautiful yellow roses. We joked, laughed, and at the end, I tried not to tear up.

As is always the case, I got lost between Pigeon Forge and Knoxville. I didn't get exactly frantic, but jeez, you'd think I'd LEARN after three years! *rolls eyes* I also had convinced myself that my plane was at 4pm, so pulling into the rental return at 3:27 had me pretty edgy. Pixie-magic, though...My plane wasn't until 5:23 AND the officer who flagged me for speeding only gave me a verbal warning.

So I arrived home, safe. Beloved picked me up, and we shared a long kiss. Girl was wriggling and all smiles when I got in the car...as if she couldn't believe I still existed. Boy was passed out from the hard weekend of play. *grins* I shared some of this on the way home, some curled up in bed, resting on Beloved's shoulder. I share now with you.

Every year, I have questioned whether I should attend SJW...because I'm not sure of my submissive position, because I am not confident I fit in. I don't think I will question any more. Someone (at some point during the weekend) said that "This IS home...you just have to go stay somewhere else 362 days a year." The family I have because of SJW is one that I am blessed and lucky to have. I hold them close in my heart, in my thoughts, and I miss many of them terribly until the next time...next year...that our paths take us again to the mountain.