Firsts stick in memory. My first kiss, Cynthia Sims, sitting on the piano bench in the house of my upbringing with all the adults in another room; the first mountain I climbed, Granite mountain, with my lover and about-to-be second wife, at the outset of 28 years filled first with love and companionship, only much later with terror, anguish, scars, recriminations; my first ever fish, caught at age 9, my first sex with Sharon at 18; and, on September 1st, 2020, in the middle night, within the bud of a soul-shattering year, while the long-late Townes sings in my ear 'If you needed me' at age almost 61, the first ever time someone, no, not just someone, my someone, lying in her bed a few miles away, me lying here in mine, said to me, in text on a dim phone screen, I adore you.
You have a difficult time looking at me; your past made certain of that, eye to eye too close to danger. I have to find signs in other places: your hand on mine in the night; the way you tremble when your desire rises; a text after hours inquiring about my day. Only at pillow distance do I get your eyes. Only when our skin connects do I get your heart. Only is enough.
I heard a song that wasn’t yet written,
tinkering in my head with harmonies
adjusting the rhythm of one spot
the thread of it wound through midair
smoke on a bright sunny day;
it would have gone on forever
but I couldn’t contain more
I saw it slide into your hearing
your face turning into a smile
I read a book that hadn’t yet been written
full of surprises and joy and sorrow;
somehow the author had, without my knowing,
taken the last few years of my life
and written them out in excruciating detail;
I had to close it, stop reading,
then I realized you had been reading it to me
your gentle voice turning each page, each day
I wrote a poem that hadn’t yet been written,
this poem, echoing me in ways I can’t follow;
even here, you are, as you are everywhere I look
or listen or read, as you are most completely
hidden away, a summer wildflower, in the inner pocket
of my heart that is always yours
Categorizations of what “Doms” do or don’t do is just so much wasted effort.
I read a lot of things here [note: FetLife] making absolute statements about what a particular type of person Dom/sub/master etc is or isn’t…
If we all could give up the need for absolutes, imagine what beauty and joy we could have in this world, if we could accept ourselves and our partners just as they are and go from there in deepening our relationships…
I move in the religion world a lot, and the need for absolutes is what has fucked that world up; the inability to tolerate ambiguity is the province of fear.
If you are someone who has a difficult time with ambiguity, try letting some in and see if that doesn’t make every muscle in your shoulders and upper back relax…
Life is too short to let fear rule you.
Yesterday was my regular date night with R…we had an afternoon in bed then a lovely dinner out.
And part of polyamory for me is that I can be with an amazing woman and be missing my other amazing women at the same time.
So as we were getting ready to go out to dinner, I texted G and L and we had some messages and again later, and they both told me they missed me too.
Sparkly, huge, expanding heart…
And then at dinner, we were talking about how we both want to become more regular at our partner dancing practice, and she said, I want to dance more, but sex gets in the way….
And my other loves both texted me something fun and light about the same time and I realize, from posts I read here and in FB groups, how damn fortunate I am to have three self-aware, well-boundaried women in my life and my bed…
I have seen multiple takes on whether being Dom or sub is an innate thing, something that we just ARE and discover.
I know it’s like that for me. Like sexual orientation, I am just built this way. I’ve tried to be other things, from sub to switch, and I was terribly unhappy and never felt at home. When I realized that I was Dom, and began doing specific exercises to develop that, things exploded (like that image? 🙂 )
I am learning to do partner dancing. Being a good lead is domming your partner. I am a preacher; preaching is domming the congregation. I am a church musician; leading congregational singing is domming them with the organ. I am a teacher, of various things; being a teacher is domming the classroom. and so on….
As a Dom I naturally attract subs. Even before I knew what I was doing, before I fully recognized this in myself, I was attracting subs. Even if we never enter into a D/s relationship, they are subs. It’s just the polarity of attraction. I admire and enjoy the company of Dommes, but there’s no spark between us…
Then there are those in the greater kink community who think it’s not innate, that it’s a role. I won’t dispute that with you and I’m not looking for arguments here. But I would like to hear cogent reasons why that’s the case for you, if it is…
Let’s talk…contact me here
I have two parallel lives happening simultaneously at present. I think many here might identify: our kink life and our external vanilla life.
In my external life I am a pastor starting a non-denominational sex-positive church, and serving a mainline church as the music director and organist.
In that external life, I am moving to fully align the two; I intend to be openly fully out as who I am to everyone by mid year: bi, poly, and Dom.
To that end I am becoming much more stridently pro-LGBTQIA+ in that life, although I have always been an ally; this is having some consequences (not surprisingly). I was critical of my former bishop’s failure to undo the previous bishop’s stacking of the committee that interviews candidates for ordination with very theologically conservative, anti-LGBTQ people. This resulted in my being outed as having a sex life while single and I resigned my ordination int hat church.
In my kink life, I am offering vanilla-world friendship on FB to anyone here [note: this is on FetLife, but if you are a WordPress blogger who can message me here, the offer stands also, or contact me here] who would like to see who and what I am in the external world.
As I draw the two threads of my wholeness closer together, I can already see how integrating them is going to be something powerful, how it is going to make me fully who I am, in all those seeming contradictions: Sex coach, polyamorous lover, pastor, organist, Dom, Daddy, theologian, sarcastic irreverent seeker of the Divine, someone who has experienced that full Divine union/expansion at least once, someone who is totally distrusting of organized religion…
and, I’m totally serious about FB friending…just message me.
I’m a church musician in my income-producing life. Tomorrow is the Feast of the Epiphany, King’s Day in Latin American countries, when three Wise Guys visit Jesus and tell Mary and Joseph to get out of Dodge. Epiphany=being revealed.
We use the word in more or less common speech to mean something we suddenly understand that we didn’t before.
Each day, or at least each week, it seems like, in the past two years I have had an epiphany about my sexual response, my relationships, being Dom, you name it…
My Princess Sparkettle says she keeps seeing me because each week when she comes over I’m different.
This past two weeks [December 2018] has been a major set of epiphanies. That I am her Daddy. That I am, and realize I have been for some time, totally secure in all my relationships, no jealousy etc. That I LIKE to flog and paddle and spank Pandora1a; BDSMtest.org results of 48% sadist are correct.
Tonight I am sleeping alone for the first time in two weeks. Sparkettle stayed over last night and then I saw Pandora1a this afternoon for a brief bit and I almost drove 100mph to get home and be alone in the quiet I have so carefully cultivated in my house.
Listening to what my body, mind, and heart require, and honoring that, it’s the final epiphany on this Eve of the Epiphany. Merry Christmas all! (it’s the end of the 12 days of Christmas tonight).