When I was three, I went to see the Broadway revival of Hair. As we were dancing in the aisles at the end, and day-glo body painted naked hippies were slipping out of stage traps I turned to my Dad and said “I’m going to do that, too. I want to be on the stage.”
Within 2 years, I was.
When I was six, I knew I wanted to go to NYU’s prestigious theater school, and within 12 years, I did.
When I first became a part of the BDSM and Leather communities, I didn’t see many people who looked like me in leadership positions…didn’t see many people who were submissives or slaves presenting, taking leadership roles.
Within 3 years, I was.
Then somewhere along the way I became reluctant to ask for what I wanted. I was drowning my sorrows, along with my power, in an effort to drown out what I then perceived as overwhelming pain.
The past 3 years, 8 months and 22 days have seen me re-learning how to crawl, toddle and walk, emotionally, mentally and, to some extent, physically. Being sober doesn’t mean your life snaps back into place the day you put down the booze. Its a process. Long, ongoing, committed. It is a process of putting down some things, and picking up others. It is a process that sometimes feels like everything is being pulled out from under you. The Dominant Guy laid a (modified, for the G_d leery) Charles C. West quote on me a little ways back that goes something like-a this:
â€œMany of the times we turn to our higher power when our foundations are shaking, we find that it is our higher power who is shaking our foundations.”
So yeah. MY higher power has 4 arms and the whole prehensile nose thing going on, so when he shakes shit up he does NOT fuck around ;-)
I am putting down many, many of my previous attachments to outcome, and taking people, places and things on their own terms. One of the attachments I’ve felt slipping away in the past few years is to the idea of what “Home” means. And this is where my call to the universe comes in.
And someone reading this might be able to answer this call :-)
I have been anchored in San Francisco for close to 13 years, and it is a city I love. But like many things you love, sometimes they grow threadbare, don’t fit well, or your needs aren’t being met.
My life, as it is, as it looks, and as I love it, is more encumbered than enhanced by having what traditionally looks like a “home.” But I’m not prepared to walk away from a rent-controlled flat either!
What to do…? Well, I don’t rightly know just yet. I do know that miracles happen. I do know that, if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need. (Hey, they didn’t knight Jagger for nothing.) I know that there are other people who lead nomadic existences, as I do, who might be open to a kind of “time-shared” life. I know that I might have something even more amazing than a rent-controlled flat… something I can’t even see because it is so bad-ass, that is waiting in the wings for me. I know that my hometown of New York City, calls to me every now and then. I know I am intrigued by the lure of Chicago. I know that these are cities with vibrant Theater and Leather communities. I know that, somewhere, I have a new opportunity waiting for me, even though finding a place to alight for a couple of weeks or months here and there seems insane. A freelance actress and Leathersex / BDSM Educator has no business dreaming so big, right?
Well fuck that. Give me the good stuff. Surprise me with bounty, show me that I can be who I need to be, and that I am absolutely worthy of having my wishes come true.
So there it is, universe! I got business in a big city…light the way.
And hey, if you happen to have a miracle up your sleeve, drop me a line and sprinkle miracle on me.
Just not in the eye. Please. It burns.