I woke up this morning feeling a bit more stable, for which I was very grateful, but I had a vague sense of unease. I was thinking I’m forgetting something, but what is it? I know I have a physical coming up, and was trying to decide if it was today or not, or maybe next week. It was on my calendar at work, but I would be too late by the time I got there. On the way in to work though, they called to confirm the appointment for tomorrow. So it’s almost over. I have been charged by my doctor to lose 20 pounds. I’ve been cutting back, and my pants are looser, but I’ve been afraid to weigh.
If I have lost the weight, I’m afraid I’ll relax and go eat a chicken franchise or something to celebrate. If I haven’t lost the weight, I’m afraid I’ll get discouraged and eat Peru or some other small country in consolation. This fucked-up relationship with food (i.e. food cures everything) is why everyone in my family has such a hard time maintaining a healthy weight. Well, that and the fact that food is just so damn tasty.
After the work day started, I checked my personal email as I do from time to time during the day. One of the things that tends to happen after an event is that everyone emails back and forth, sharing impressions, sending thank you’s, saying things they forgot to say at the time, etc. So I’ve been following the exchange, although for the last couple of days I have frankly been too blown out of the water to really do much in the way of replies. Sometimes I have to back off a bit and wait for my words to come back, and this past weekend was a huge one for me in terms of events. Sometimes when you reach a new, higher level, you just have to catch your breath before you can carry on.
Lynn, sweetheart that she is, had sent me an email. One of the sweetest emails I think I have ever received. Lynn is one of the Kindred that I came in as a pledge knowing the least. She lives in Texas, and when she’s here, her focus is appropriately on Lady Beth, her Ma’am. Because of their limited time together, I usually try to fade into the background (as much as I am ever able to do, Chatty Cathy that I am) and let them have their time. But when I was invited to join, she really went out of her way to make me feel welcome. She came right over to me and sat down to talk one-on-one. She asked me about what my service project would be and was very encouraging about my idea. She was very sweet and welcoming to me, even though she barely knew me.
Today I got an email from her, expanding on Lady Beth’s theme about the things that I have to offer, and commending me for my submissive heart. One of the tenets of the Kindred is that submissives are not second-class citizens. We offer service freely because that’s our place, but it’s an even exchange. The Dominant offers protection and regard, and takes the responsibility for the submissive’s safety. They pledge to take care of the goods, and offer a Place. The submissive offers body and service, and takes responsibility for serving the Dominant. A submissive pledges to trust and Serve. When yen meets yang in equality and health, it is a beautiful exchange and symmetry. Of course in an ideal world, what is really the attraction and the bond is what’s on the inside. Because of the sexual remove (my being a gay man, and Lady Beth and Lynn being primarily straight women); it’s much easier for Lynn and Lady Beth to see me objectively. Unfortunately out here in the real world, there are a million little subjectivities that come into play.
Lynn’s email, though, was beautifully written and absolutely sincere to the core. She wished that I could see myself through her eyes, and indeed after reading what she had to say I wished I could as well. Or perhaps I should wish that some great guy could do that. I was deeply touched, especially after the discouragement of last night. I feel kind of like I’m trying to market a junker car at this point. I have some miles left in me, but I feel like potential buyers can’t help but ask themselves is he really worth the upkeep?
I know that I have things to offer, but they aren’t things that jump out. They’re the quiet strengths that don’t make a flash. To go back to the car metaphor, I’m kind of a sedan, and you know men just never outgrow wanting to have a flashy sports car. Think about all the crappy Triumphs they sold on that premise during the 70s. I do value myself, and I know that I have things to offer the family, maybe specifically because I’m not viewed as an object of desire. The fact that they value my quiet things is incredibly precious to me. Lynn's email, and her motivation for reaching out to me – just sincerity and caring - moved me deeply. I had to get up from my desk and get a hold of myself before I could go back to work.
***
Work itself was pretty uneventful today, thank goodness. Until I was asked out to lunch. One of our agencies has an office in Atlanta, and the Atlanta rep periodically takes me to lunch. Steve is a really sweet guy, and he tries hard; but he is surprisingly socially obtuse for someone who works in the field with clients. Our last lunch was rather bizarre. This one was a bit more average, until we started back. Riding with Steve is stressful. He’s an older guy, he’s hard of hearing, and although his vision seems to be fine he is easily distracted behind the wheel. He wanders between lanes; he misses turn signals and brake lights ahead, etc. I usually white-knuckle through, trying to keep direction to a minimum and silently reminding myself that he must have a baseline level of competence because he travels constantly with his job. (Well either that or he has a very active guardian angel – either way I try to believe that I’m fairly safe.) Today on the way there, he did the lane wandering thing (at one point we were exactly in the middle of the two lanes allotted to our side of the road, much to the consternation of the drivers behind us). On the way back, we were a cat’s whisker from being side swiped (on my side, of course) as he blithely just about pulled right into the side of a passing pickup. A last minute scream from me pulled him up slightly short. He was unfazed. He rode the center-line reflectors most of the way back to the office (blessedly a few short blocks away), the bump-bump-bump under the tires seeming to barely register on his radar. Although the lunch was good – I had made him take me to one of my favorite Japanese places near the office – by the time I got back I was ready to kiss the floor in the office atrium. I was left wondering just exactly where was the line on what I would endure/risk for a free lunch.
***
When I got home tonight I turned on TCM and watched In Cold Blood. I had read the book years ago when I discovered Truman Capote (this was one of the two books by him that I was able to find in our local library at the time, and arguably his magnum opus). Much later I was struck by the impact that writing this book had on his life when I watched Capote. Although I turned the movie on as background, I was soon sucked in to it and turned the computer off. It was an excellent film, but of course the ending was grim. I was impressed by the take the strong message the director hammered home.
But hmmm, perhaps not the best movie to go to sleep after. I put in an old Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes movie to quiet the old bean. While I was getting ready for bed, I reached back to scratch my back, which has been annoyingly itchy. My back was peeling, like from a sunburn. Lordamercy! I thought, Miss Kat has literally whooped the hide right off of me!
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