Ramblings from Along the Path
Another top-space transfer…
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
I’m just gonna go ahead and admit that there’s a particular Carly Simon song that (in sharp contrast to most of her music) doesn’.t make me change the channel or drive screaming into a bridge abutment. It.s called, ”All I Want is You,” and the best lyric in the song goes, ”I don.t want a man who tiptoes up the stairs.” I can.t think of a better one-sentence encapsulation of ds.
In a perfect world, a Dominants life would consist solely of learning and living the lifestyle, treasuring and torturing the gift that is their submissive. For most of us, unfortunately, life is not that perfect, and intrudes on what would otherwise be a fulfilling and idyllic life. When this occurs, often a return to ”center” is needed.
I ran across Master Tanos and lili’s site some time ago. It’s come a long way since I last visited. I will readily admit that theirs is one of the first pages that I enjoyed flipping through. I admire the type of relationship they have and I can only hope to grow as much as lili has. That being said, I think this was an interesting essay of lili’s. For any of you who haven’t visited their pages, you should. It’s well worth the read.
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I’ve recently put a name to a feeling I have had, a place I’ve gone within myself. Slavespace. Simple enough to say, and a rather fitting word. I know I’ve mentioned that second plane of thought in some of my entries and I’ve seen dreamy posting something I think is similar in her journal, so I figure now is a good time to post this:
I found this some years ago, wish I knew who to credit. A bit cheesy, but kinda neat nonetheless:
A couple vacationing in Europe went strolling down a little street and saw a quaint little gift shop with a beautiful teacup in the window. The lady collected teacups and she wanted this one for her collection, so she went inside to pick up the teacup, and as the story goes the teacup spoke and said:
I have been asked recently, and often in the past, what I was – bottom, submissive or slave. My answer to this question is that I am a servant. For me it is quite simple, I serve my dominant, hence I am a servant. Service to me is all encompassing; it is not just the domestic ”molly maid” version that some think of when they think of service.
It means serving him in all ways that he requires. I am maid, cook, laundress, chauffer, gofer, sex servant, bottom, submissive, slave, carpenter, office assistant, computer technician, etc. I am what he needs me to be and what pleases him.
Over the time I have been on my personal journey in submissiveness, I have come to learn several things about myself as well as the BDSM community. One factor of myself is that I am very much service oriented, yet I find many in our community do not understand how a submissive can be service oriented and from where they gain their pleasure. Many have joked, ”if there are any service submissives about, I could use a housekeeper.” And I hope in what I write here these views can be turn to a better comprehension.