Late Night Gratitude

It’s 4am, and no rest for the wicked it seems… or less wicked, and more set for seeing what comes next.

Through a strange set of circumstances, my Boy and I were approved by my doctors to travel, drugs upped and emergency plans made- and off we went by chinatown bus to DC for the Master/slave Conference.  I had grand plans of attending everything Friday and Saturday before we have to fly to Ireland.  Instead, I made it to the keynote speech that Race Bannon gave Friday night (a fantastic andmuch needed piece on the core tradition in Leather being finding our authentic happiness through various pursuits, with posits on how we acheive happiness), and one class Saturday at 4pm.  That’s it.  I am trying daily to not be hard on myself, but having really wanted to attend other classes, and the interfaith services, and other events- I just have to kwwp breathing.

The one class we got to was “Regularly Evaluating your M/s and D/s Relationship and Roles” with Mistress Khiki and Slave Jez.  It was not the class I expected, or desired even, but I think it was the class I needed.  It’s meandering structure and tech issues were actually able to help me unwind my tight spring of a spine a bit, and I was able to bring some insight into the notions of internal discernment, something I have had challenges with as of late within relationship.  After dinner with Bendy, Percy and their new corruptable, Aiden and I found a quiet bank building and holed up to talk, for hours.  Hours.  Needed, so very needed. 

The other bonus this weekend, that I am so grateful for, was seeing and getting lovingly bitch slapped and hugged by my friend Ruth, who was working the Alfred Press booth.    Aiden just bought a copy of “Real Service” from them, by Joshua Tenpenny, and is REALLY enjoying it a few feet from me right now.  I am grateful to Ruth as a fellow journeyer through health adventures, and love, and her insights brough me a few smiles between frustrations and stories of life.

The past few weeks have been a challenge, but I am grateful for a lot of things.  Greatful to Jewcifer and Lolly in Arizona for putting us up, and bending over backwards in a few cases when wackiness ensued.  Greatful to my Dv8 tribe for helping me unwind amidst some darkness.  Greatful to Master Dennis and Dragon clan for stepping up when I had to cancel a class, and CA and Cinder for stepping up during the other class.  Greatful for producers who have been understanding, and friends who have hugged me and told me to fuck them all with one producer who has had challenges with my having to cancel.

10 years of kink education.  3 cancelled events.  Until this year.  I’ve had to cancel 13 so far (that is independent gigs, not individual classes) over all of this.  I am not doing this lightly.

I am grateful for my Boy.  So amazingly grateful for his service, his love, his sitting with me, his ear when I have to vent, his insight when mine has been cloudy.  Grateful for his service.  I am grateful for little notes of love from various parts of my tribe.  I am grateful for presenters saying how much they hate the nicety of “how are you” when folks have no interest in being vulnerable in either direction.  I am grateful for the fuzzy hat that Jewcifer gifted Aiden, that has become mine.  Grateful for good food and good company, including the brilliance was a trio of Jaylynn, James and Miranda at Asian Spring in Chinatown.  Grateful for learning to voice my needs without shame.

That’s right kids- I have major issues asking for my needs and desires.  Major.  I get them met historically by setting myself up to be able to do them for myself, or by arranging ways to have them happen.  After years of folks promising me that they would do stuff for me, and then not following through, I became bitter, jaded, and hurt by broken promises and an unwillingness to share any more because I was sick of being let down.  In fact, I’ve become so good at not sharing the real wants and needs that oftentimes I don’t even know what they are.

So I’ve been working on it, amidst all this.  What do I need, want and desire?  Really?  And what do I do if I can’t get that in my current setup.  How do I breathe through that realization, and find a way, find a restructuring, or perhaps actually open up and share without fear of being let down again.  I don’t want advice on how- I am asking myself rhetorically.  I have advice coming out of my ears.  I just need to sit with it all, tease it out, see what happens.

I am grateful for my first fiance coming out of the woodwork and through random facebook posts reminding me that my history is real and I am real in a continuity.  Even if I have barely had a chance to acknowledge him.  I love you Max, 16+ years later, you rock.

I am grateful for Muji pens.  I repeat, Muji pens rock.

I am grateful for being able to breathe, and walk.  Hard to explain how grateful I truly am for both of these.  Oh, and doctors slowly getting stuff right, fingers crossed.  I am grateful for the possibility being on the table, as compared to the ups and downs of the past 6 weeks.  I am grateful for 24 hour pharmacies, and pharmacists willing to have conversations with Medicaid, and that I can buy gum and bandaids and drugs all in one place.

So, why am I still up now at 4:40am?  Because, dear ones, my flights are rediculous.

Aiden and I are flying to Dublin, Ireland.  Hooray!  However, due to flights planned based on gigs I am not doing any more, we are flying out of airports that require some extra finagling to get to/from… which means we have a 10a flight to Boston, and then… a 9+ hour layover IN Boston before flying on.  Aiden proclaimed at 1a that he would just rather not sleep than have to be up for a 7a shuttle pickup- so here we are, which I am totally fine with.  I used the time to update some stuff, import another 2 months of journals (the useful ones, not the ones that say stuff like “OMG my mom just gave me soup” which no one cares about 7 years later if they ever cared them) from livejournal over to this blog (we are now updated back through June 2004).  Some day, the transfer will be done, and I will have time to tag all my journal entries… ah, the dreams we dream.

The plan is to sleep at Boston Logan airport 🙂

Most likely we will be offline this coming week.  And then, once I am home from Ireland, I will have 2 months home.  This is freaking, strange, jarring.  But It’s what I have the capacity for.

*love* and *love*

Take care of each other.


Lee Harrington

Lee Harrington is an internationally known sexuality, relationships, and personal authenticity educator. Having taught in all 50 states and in 6 countries, he brings a combination of playful engagement and thoughtful academic dialogue to a broad audience. An award-winning author and editor on gender, sexual, and sacred experience, his books include “Traversing Gender: Understanding Transgender Journeys,” and "Sacred Kink: The Eightfold Paths of BDSM and Beyond," among many other titles. He has been blogging online since 1998, and been teaching worldwide since 2001. Welcome to his world, and your chance to expand your mind and heart alike.

One Comment:

  1. For the record, I think ‘Omg my mom just made me soup’ is a perfectly valid journal entry. Life doesn’t, in my opinion, exist in the big moments, and the exciting revelations. Life happens in all the moments in between. It is the sweetness of the boredom between moments of sheer panic, as any veteran of the trenches learns. Of course, that all depends on what you want to say with any particular journal. But I think the lessons we don’t intend to teach are probably just as important as the ones we do. Nothing wrong with an occasional reminder between the great and important thoughts that, ‘Hey, I should stop and call my mom. She made me soup once, too.’

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