Musings from 3 AM

[madetotakeit]

Don't ask me why it popped into my head. Third night shift in a row always take my mind to weird places.

Of all things, I started thinking of Eros and Psyche. Eros was the god of physical love-lust, the animalistic side of man. Psyche was a mere human whose beauty was beyond compare. Her name roughly translates to soul or mind depending on who you listen to. Eros was sent to destroy her, but instead fell in love. Issues of trust came into play and there was a rift between them. Psyche performs three tasks to win his trust back with the assistance of nature (Symbolic for embracing her human nature?) As a result they are reunited and give birth to Hedone whose name means pleasure.

In my deep, overly caffeinated thoughts this became very profound to me. Pleasure can not exist without the mind and body embracing each other. The animal side connecting with the mental side. The soul/mind can not be accepted by the body until it is true to itself.

I have felt myself and read the words of others describing how once they accepted their Dom/sub nature that they felt whole. Being true to themselves allowed them to open up those mental and emotional pathways that they had previously blocked. Thus they found true pleasure. The body and mind became one.

It's a nice thought. Then again maybe I need to switch to decaf

 

[graceanne]

It's a nice thought. Then again maybe I need to switch to decaf

How 'bout both? lol I admit that Eros and Psyche is one of my favorite greek myths. LOL Recently I found myself back in my greek myth books cause of the latest Pirates of the Carribean. Talk about being a geek, everyone else is talking about the movie, and I'm trying to recall what story Calypso was in.

 

[EttienneB]

Good morning...

(Your chatter is getting much too intellitgent, erudite, for Lit, ha-ha)

Your observations, musings, are keen, pithy, incisive. I suggest that you see the recent movie, "Lust, Caution" by the director Ang Lee, who also made last year's "Brokeback Mountain." Whereas that former flic was a breakthrough in GLBT movies, not in so much for its semi-graphic depiction of gay love, but rather because of its depiction of two macho, American cowboys (gasp!) who fumble and fight their way around gay love, and their tragic and incredible senstive end, "Lust, Caution" addresses BDSM and related questions, such as "Who really has the power?" and others which you ponder in your previous posting. I strongly suggest you (all) see it.

 

[Netzach]

That's mighty holistic and healthy of you. I think there's a lot more at play, a perpetual rejection and push-pull of pleasure and pain, rather than any kind of wholesale embracing. I'm a little uneasy rather than super happy and actualized and shiny via SM - there's still something diametric and complicated about the destroy what you desire impulse of sadism.

My ego superego and id are still not happily getting along, and I'm fine with that. I do feel more alive and more personally integrated, you are right, by being able to express sexuality, but I don't think that it's ever totally restful or unifying when you introduce culture, history, and biology to the mix.

I mean there's something very fascinating about an eros-psyche exchange that uses the violent pleasure of beating/hitting as an inverted version of drawing together and merging - I've always thought of SM (and by this I mean serious S/M involving mental as well as physical cruelty) as a kind of mental/emotional inversion of what you are supposed to do when you're in love. Violence and rejection literally becoming an intimate language which brings people together.

 

[madetotakeit]

Granted, it is a bit simplistic, not going into the wonderfully gory details of how that connection is made. But each road to that connection is different. How I will get there is different from how you get there.

Again, it hit me very early/late and I guarantee there was more Starbucks' Italian Roast than plasma in my bloodstream!

 

[catalina_francisco]

double post

 

[catalina_francisco]

I strongly suggest you (all) see it.

Why? Because we need a Hollywood blimp to tell us who we are and how to do it? Sorry, I don't base my life or choices on what a movie depicts. I'm a bit boring in that I come from the land down under where gay sex between average people was seen on regular TV at 8.30PM in the 70's, so no gasp factor there either for me.

Catalina

 

[Homburg]

That's mighty holistic and healthy of you. I think there's a lot more at play, a perpetual rejection and push-pull of pleasure and pain, rather than any kind of wholesale embracing. I'm a little uneasy rather than super happy and actualized and shiny via SM - there's still something diametric and complicated about the destroy what you desire impulse of sadism.

Maybe it's a Top thing. I'm never completely comfortable with what we do. I'm never totally at ease with my feelings and desires. I'm never quite a-okay with taking this woman that I have loved my entire adult life and making her cry and bleed. I do it anyway, but it doesn't always sit well with me.

That feeling of "Fuck, this is evil" never fully leaves, and there is that part of my brain that looks at the rest of me in shock and fear at what I have become.

S/M may be integral to me, but it isn't something that I cuddle and pet on. It's the scaley, evil section of my lizard brain that rejects commonality and seeks the edge. I don't like that part, but I love how it makes me feel.

I am also of the opinion that there is something relevatory encapsulated in the anthropomorphising of our sadistic drives. When I talk about my Inner Sadist as something seperate within me, I feel that I am saying something profound, and I've just not realised what yet. Something about that language provides distance and a barrier that I still need.

It goes without saying, hopefully, that I prefer it this way. I don't want to be cuddly and comfy with the part of me that sees a beautiful woman and thinks that she'd be ever so much more attractive bent doubled, ass striped red, with her mascara running down her flushed cheeks. I accept it, however, because I do like that image so very much.

 

[madetotakeit]

That feeling of "Fuck, this is evil" never fully leaves, and there is that part of my brain that looks at the rest of me in shock and fear at what I have become.

S/M may be integral to me, but it isn't something that I cuddle and pet on. It's the scaley, evil section of my lizard brain that rejects commonality and seeks the edge. I don't like that part, but I love how it makes me feel.

I am also of the opinion that there is something relevatory encapsulated in the anthropomorphising of our sadistic drives. When I talk about my Inner Sadist as something seperate within me, I feel that I am saying something profound, and I've just not realised what yet. Something about that language provides distance and a barrier that I still need.

It goes without saying, hopefully, that I prefer it this way. I don't want to be cuddly and comfy with the part of me that sees a beautiful woman and thinks that she'd be ever so much more attractive bent doubled, ass striped red, with her mascara running down her flushed cheeks. I accept it, however, because I do like that image so very much.

As much as we have evolved, learned to communicate, express ourselves we are still an animal. A highly functioning one, but an animal none the less. The lizard brain is still in there buried under all that we have incorporated in our adapting. Some are "predator" and some are "prey." It controls our survival instinct as well as our reproductive drive. We don't give it free reign because "polite society" doesn't allow it. Some learn to completely subvert it. Nothing wrong with that if it what makes them happy. Others recognize it and let it out on occasion. Nothing wrong with that either as long as it does not endanger.

When I think of embracing that side of me, it is in acknowledging it exists. Is there something unsettling about it? Sure, that's why certain thoughts make me as nervous as intrigued. Some thoughts even scare me. Is it there when I am at work or going about my day to day life? Not at the surface. I control it. It does not control me. Might those uncomfortable feelings be the part that prevents one from going too far? Sadist to abuser, masochist to victim?

To me "becoming whole" or embracing it is recognizing that part of me exists and feeding it what it needs. Clouds don't part. Rays of light don't beam down. But by being comfortable with the parts of me that make me uncomfortable I become comfortable with myself as a whole.

 

[Homburg]

That's just it. I don't want to be comfortable. I've said before that they day that I don't worry at least a little bit about causing harm with a given implement is the day that I hang that implement up. The worry, the discomfort, these are the things that keep me from being the howling monster, a la Evil Geoff's description of his inner sadist.

Moreover, my own discomfort sometimes drives my lusts. The things that are just a bit outside my comfort zone are frequently dead hot. Can't help it.

 

[BiBunny]

That's just it. I don't want to be comfortable. I've said before that they day that I don't worry at least a little bit about causing harm with a given implement is the day that I hang that implement up. The worry, the discomfort, these are the things that keep me from being the howling monster, a la Evil Geoff's description of his inner sadist.

Moreover, my own discomfort sometimes drives my lusts. The things that are just a bit outside my comfort zone are frequently dead hot. Can't help it.

Same here. Part of the appeal is the fucked-up-ness.

I show horses, as most everyone here knows by now. Folks who show horses often say that they don't want a horse that's dead-broke to show. You want 'em to have a little life, a little fire, in them because that's what gives their performance that meaningful spark. You want there to be a little uncertainty about what they might do, but you don't want 'em crazy as hell, either. I think the metaphor fits.

Or maybe I'm just tired.

 

[Homburg]

Same here. Part of the appeal is the fucked-up-ness.

I show horses, as most everyone here knows by now. Folks who show horses often say that they don't want a horse that's dead-broke to show. You want 'em to have a little life, a little fire, in them because that's what gives their performance that meaningful spark. You want there to be a little uncertainty about what they might do, but you don't want 'em crazy as hell, either. I think the metaphor fits.

Or maybe I'm just tired.

It's a good metaphor. Yes, you want the horse to be well-trained and ready to go, but you also want that spice. An utterly broken horse has no passion, and that makes for a boring performance. So, perversely, you want something fucked up, else the rest of the horse is dull.

 

[BiBunny]

It's a good metaphor. Yes, you want the horse to be well-trained and ready to go, but you also want that spice. An utterly broken horse has no passion, and that makes for a boring performance. So, perversely, you want something fucked up, else the rest of the horse is dull.

Thank you. I'm having trouble articulating tonight.

 

[VelvetDarkness]

Yeah, Master and I are going through a lot of this stuff right now. He still feels remorseful after a really intense session, yet at the same time that reaction pisses him off no end. He used to be very loving after nasty, kink fuelled sex (sometimes he still is) but more often he's either "I'm going to sleep now." or "Get the fuck off your knees and clean my cock up." He won't acknowledge the voice in his head that sees me, spanked, whipped, tear streaked, exhausted and unable to sit down and says, "Fuck. I am an evil nasty person."

We both know he's not an evil, nasty person. He chooses to act like one. His howling monster is exercised on a short leash and then thrown back into its cage.

Plus, even when he's let the monster out and is getting his bastard rocks off, he has never failed to act immediately on my safeword. I have epilepsy and occasionally have to halt things with no explanation or hesitation on his part. I don't abuse the privilege of my safeword and so he never questions my motives.

For my part, I have often wondered what it is in me that can endure what many would term his 'abuse' of me and my battered little carcass and still call it love with total confidence. True, we are seeking different sides of the same thrill but the way in which he controls my life now is profoundly moving for me. He is the centre of my world, the motivation behind the majority of what I do and why I do it. I would not be exaggerating if I called him my personal deity and yet not at any point has this gradual surrender of power concerned me.

There's something very primal and animal about being chastised with a single look. For his word to be effective as law for me. I see groups of animals (e.g. gorrillas) on TV and the way in which everyone treats the alpha male with deference, approaching him with bowed heads, letting him take the best of everything unchallenged, I connect with all that on more levels than I care to admit.

OK I'm rambling now. Hopefully there's a well concealed point in there somewhere.

 

[rida]

As much as we have evolved, learned to communicate, express ourselves we are still an animal. A highly functioning one, but an animal none the less. The lizard brain is still in there buried under all that we have incorporated in our adapting. Some are "predator" and some are "prey." It controls our survival instinct as well as our reproductive drive. We don't give it free reign because "polite society" doesn't allow it. Some learn to completely subvert it. Nothing wrong with that if it what makes them happy. Others recognize it and let it out on occasion. Nothing wrong with that either as long as it does not endanger.

When I think of embracing that side of me, it is in acknowledging it exists. Is there something unsettling about it? Sure, that's why certain thoughts make me as nervous as intrigued. Some thoughts even scare me. Is it there when I am at work or going about my day to day life? Not at the surface. I control it. It does not control me. Might those uncomfortable feelings be the part that prevents one from going too far? Sadist to abuser, masochist to victim?

To me "becoming whole" or embracing it is recognizing that part of me exists and feeding it what it needs. Clouds don't part. Rays of light don't beam down. But by being comfortable with the parts of me that make me uncomfortable I become comfortable with myself as a whole.

may I just clap and nod?
I've been trying to put those same thought in words many times ... and never even got close to express them as clearly ...
thank you

 

[madetotakeit]

Oh please do clap and nod rida, I'll accept them all!

Bibunny I agree. Great metaphor. I grew up with horses. I had a very docile Saddlebred and a Tennessee Walker that was a spitfire. She was 17 hands and solid muscle. Riding her was a battle of wills. I chose the Walker every time. She took every opportunity to exert her independence/stubbornness. If somebody didn't know how to handle her, they would end up in the pond even if she had to walk in herself. She was also a fan of low lying branches.

Once she was in full tack it was almost like she was showing off. She kept me on my toes. Keeping her under control gave me a sense of accomplishment, but occasionally I would let her run as she wished. Even though she would resist along the way, she knew if she behaved well at the end of the ride she would get sweet feed or something else special. I'm like her in ways. My stubborn streak is deep and I have to maintain my independence. But for the right treat...

 

[BiBunny]

Oh please do clap and nod rida, I'll accept them all!

Bibunny I agree. Great metaphor. I grew up with horses. I had a very docile Saddlebred and a Tennessee Walker that was a spitfire. She was 17 hands and solid muscle. Riding her was a battle of wills. I chose the Walker every time. She took every opportunity to exert her independence/stubbornness. If somebody didn't know how to handle her, they would end up in the pond even if she had to walk in herself. She was also a fan of low lying branches.

Once she was in full tack it was almost like she was showing off. She kept me on my toes. Keeping her under control gave me a sense of accomplishment, but occasionally I would let her run as she wished. Even though she would resist along the way, she knew if she behaved well at the end of the ride she would get sweet feed or something else special. I'm like her in ways. My stubborn streak is deep and I have to maintain my independence. But for the right treat...

OMG, you had Walking Horses? I show Walking Horses, too. Love them!

Sorry for the minor hijack.

 

[madetotakeit]

No worries about the minor hijack. A thread is like a conversation. Some hijacks spark a thought or question. It evolves from there. All interesting points or observations welcome!