Choices

Choices

slave marsha
http://edgeliving.blogspot.com/


Choices Choices. We all have to make them. We can’t avoid them. Although we may try to convince ourselves otherwise, even not choosing is a choice. i choose to be this, but that means i won’t be that. i’ll have this relationship, but if i do, i can’t have that one. i’ll go here, but it means i can’t go there.

Choices limit and define our worlds, our identities, our lives. The hard, hard truth is, none of us can have it all. We have to accept that, although far too many of us spend our lives in denial of that truth. i think the most important choice i’ve made in my life is the choice i made to serve, to be a slave. But as i’ve traveled along this path that i chose, i’ve been stunned to discover that people pity me for my choice.

Why? Because when i tell someone that i’m a slave, that i chose to turn over as much control of my life as possible to my Owner, they focus on what that choice required me to give up. And make no mistake about it – because of my choice, i have had to give up many things: control over how i dress, where i work, what i’m allowed to spend money on, where i go, who i can date, and so much more. (Note that as a femme leatherdyke “how i dress” was first on that list!).

i think it’s natural to look at what a choice makes us give up or requires us to pass by. Choosing is a frightening act, so it makes sense that we instinctively look at what we will lose by the choice we are asked to make. i think that’s particularly true when the choice is a truly significant and life changing one, like whether or not to enter service. But let me let you in on a little secret, if you haven’t already discovered it for yourself: making a choice can also expand your horizons in ways you couldn’t have imagined, and in ways you couldn’t experience without making that choice.

That’s what choosing slavery has been like for me. No, it hasn’t all been fun and games, a bed of roses or hot times in the dungeon. (i hope that’s clear to anyone who’s read my thoughts on this website!) But by choosing – by understanding and accepting that i cannot have it all and so must choose – i’ve gained the incredible freedom to explore this thing called “consensual slavery” as deeply as possible. There’s a song out by a group called Finger Eleven. The song is called “One Thing” – right now, it’s my favorite song and the lyrics to it are really what inspired me to write this entry. In part, it goes like this:

"If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something?"

That’s how i see the choice i made to enter service. i gave it all away for one thing: to experience consensual slavery as fully as I can. i won’t tell you that i know all about this one thing – because i don’t – but believe i’ve given myself a priceless gift – the chance to know about it as deeply as possible. Some of you who read those lyrics may think they’re sad… after all, look at everything i gave up for the one thing. But to me, those lyrics are filled with joy. They represent freedom – the freedom to choose to explore deeply in this life.

For me, the sad lyrics are the ones that come next in the song:
"I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time."
A choice made… to walk on by. Or...A choice made… to give it all away.
To face the fear of choosing. To see how deep i can go.Wouldn’t that be something?
It is.

--slave marsha

Thursday, August 05, 2004

When the Ceremony is Done
Provided by slave marsha
www.edgeliving.blogspot.com


Some of you may have been wondering what happened at the ceremony at Thunder in the Mountains. Master Jim and i intended to write immediately after we returned, but life somehow got in the way. (Doesn’t it always?) So on behalf of Master Jim and myself, let me take a minute to bring those who are interested up to date.

The morning of the ceremony, Sunday, July 18, 2004, Master Jim and i arrived at the seminar room early. After setting up the altar, Master Jim and i walked around the perimeter of the room together, claiming the space and naming it sacred. By the time we completed those preparations, people were beginning to enter the room and it was time to begin. Master Jim and i were deeply touched to see how many people we knew had come to support us.

The first 45 minutes or so were spent in talking about basic cutting techniques and why ritual and ceremony are important in this Master/slave relationship. Then Master Jim reminded everyone that they were under no obligation to stay if they were not comfortable witnessing the upcoming ceremony. No one chose to leave. Master Jim then asked His man in service, ryan, to step outside and “stand vigil,” guarding the space.

And so we began the ceremony.

Master Jim stated the purpose of the ceremony: that it was intended to provide a way for me to acknowledge and release my fears, that i might know my place in His household. He called on the leather gods and the spirits of leathermen and leatherwomen who have gone before us for strength and help in the ceremony. i echoed His purpose, and called for help from the spirits of the slaves who have served before me and i called on the God who loves me, in the form of Ganesha. (In the Hindu tradition, Ganesha is the remover of obstacles and god of new beginnings.)

Then Master Jim ordered me to read my fears, aloud, to those in attendance. That was hard. Very hard.

When i finished, Master Jim took the paper onto which i had placed my fears and tore it into strips. Together, we burned the fears in a silver bowl that held sand from a place sacred to our leather family, the Chapel at Chimayo in New Mexico. As i watched the paper burn, i poured into that flame my fears, my tears, my anger and my shame at my failure to serve.

When the paper was nothing but ash, i reached into the bowl and crushed the ash into the sand. Master Jim then invited those who were bearing witness to join in the ceremony. He invited them to come forward and take some of the sand and ash mixture… to bear some of my fear. He asked them to take that fear away and to do with it as seemed right and proper to them.

One by one, the people in that room came to me at the altar. i handed each one a small envelope filled with the sand as I said to them, “Here are my fears.” One by one, the people in that room took my fears away, bit by bit.

To each of you who freely chose to bear a part of my burden, thank you. As a slave, i have nothing i can give you -- but know that you have my deepest gratitude.

When that was done, Master Jim said a few closing words and thanked everyone for their support. i don’t know about anyone else present, but in that moment, Master Jim and i truly felt the sacredness of that space. Quietly, people began to leave.

Master Jim then asked ryan to come back into the room. He and i hugged and then, together, we knelt before Master Jim.

The fear was gone.

************
Since that day, a number of people have let Master Jim or me know what they did with the sand i handed to them at the altar. Some of it has been scattered in the mountains of New Mexico, the spiritual land that calls so strongly to Master Jim. Some of it was scattered in the Garden of the Gods in Colorado, a place of sacred beauty. Some of it was placed in a private garden, where people Master Jim and I care for deeply celebrate Mastery and slavery every day. Some of it has been used to help grow and nurture a beautiful plant tended by one with a heart for service. Some of it has become the centerpiece of a personal altar, a daily reminder that from fear, we can find growth.


--slave marsha