Or maybe it reminds me that I am happy. As I settle into a good practice, as I let myself sink down into myself, reconnect with my body and with…something else, something less definable but definitely there…I find and open myself to all the good that is in my life, in myself. When they talk about “heart-opening,” it’s not just a catchy phrase. I sink down and open up, all at the same time. And as I open my heart to the universe, I find, receive and give goodness.
I’ve only been to two classes, both “deep stretch” classes that are somewhat like Yin yoga (holding poses and allowing the body to settle deeply into a stretch) but without holding them that long. This is a perfect place for me to start again after my months-long yoga hiatus, as it gives me a chance to inquire of my body, to assess where I am, without pushing it or myself.
It’s funny that I just typed that: “it (my body) and myself.” As if my body and my self are not one and the same. But I mean that in the sense of my physical self and my inner self, my emotional self, I suppose. Pushing my body physically during a run, say, or an intense yoga practice, and not quite achieving what I set out to do, happens. It’s part of being physical and pushing oneself to the next level. But right now I am keenly aware of the need to protect myself emotionally from failure of this sort, at least for a time. My emotional state in regards to my body is a little fragile just now, and I don’t want to jeopardize it by pushing for too much too soon. So I asked my body where it was, and I allowed myself to just be there, not demanding, not pushing, not even seeking. Simply inquiring, and accepting the answer when it came. ‘Yes I can go deeper,’ or ‘No, not today.’
And I was happy, and left both practices feeling uplifted, instead of beat down, as I have been kind of feeling in general lately.
I also had a wonderful coincidental meeting with one of my ex-coworkers, who also goes to the yoga studio I’m trying out. We chatted and I extended myself a bit by asking her if she’d like to get a glass of wine sometime after one of our practices. Funny that I never went out with any of them socially when we were coworkers, but asking her out after class just seemed natural. (That’s what normal people do, right?) Perhaps that “opening up” affected other things as well, like my reluctance to socialize. ;-)
As long as I am talking about body image and such, I wanted to share a couple of pics of a recent scene W and I had, and share a short anecdote along with them.
After W’s play party, the one I wasn’t able to attend, I went over to his house for some impromptu play. Of course, having written all that, I was curious about how he would react and how he would play with me.
We had a great play session, with the rope tie above being a large part of it (four metal chime balls, some major finger-fucking and a wonderful whipping session being the other part.) The tie (to my mind) was not too intense (you can’t see it, but I am anchored to a bolt in the ceiling above.) He would whip me, and I would spin this way and that to avoid it, or he would hold me as he shoved chime balls into me and then finger-fucked them deeper inside me. Sometimes while he was whipping me. We both ended up a sweaty, satisfied mess, and at no time did the rope feel painful (sometimes uncomfortable, but that’s part of its charm.) ;-) The thing I noticed as he tied me, though, was that it wasn’t as strict as it usually is on my wrists and upper arms. I wasn’t unhappy about this…it meant that I could take a lot more of the other things he wanted to do to me…but I did have a vague feeling of…I don’t know. Disappointment? Because this is what I thought in those moments before we started playing and thought fled:
“He’s read my ‘Vulnerability’ post and he’s taking it easy on me. Just what I feared would happen has happened.”
Much later, when we were sitting next to each doing computer stuff, I found out that he hadn’t read the post at all yet. His internet had been down before I got there. He had adjusted the way he tied me, but it was to account for a nerve issue I had told him about in my upper arm. Not to “take it easy” on me. In fact, he said, the tie (in his opinion) was a pretty stressful one, especially when I had been in it for over an hour, moving, spinning and nearly suspending myself a time or two to escape him.
There’s a lesson there about the games one’s mind plays on itself, I think.
In yet more body/self-image news, Hyacinth’s “Friday is Boobday” meme has returned!
As I have done with Kink of the Week (possibly for similar reasons) she has cut back the theme from a weekly post to a monthly one. I am going to try biweekly posts for KOTW, but I totally get why she has made the change to monthly for Boobday. I’m so glad to see it return, and you should totally go check out the lovely ladies who participated this month by clicking the link or the image.
As for my own return to Boobday, I will have to try again next month. I so wanted to participate, but when I looked through my picture files, all I could find were images of my titties being tortured – the way W likes them, and likes to photograph them. She has said it’s about the beauty of the breast, not the crazy-ass kinky shit that gets done to them, focusing on the breasts themselves (whether clothed or unclothed) rather that the act, and…none of the images I could find really qualified. I do believe I have some, but, feeling as unlovely as I have lately, it only seemed to confirm that opinion: “I have no pretty boobie pics!” And worse, its sister-thought: “My breasts are not pretty!”
I am trying to combat that negative self-talk, but, ya know, there it is.
As a follow-on to that, however, let me share a blog by someone I’ve recently started to follow. In this series, called Body Positivity Project, she is actively taking measures to combat her own negative self-image issues. I really admire that, and probably need to take a page out of her
book blog, and do some positive self-talk myself. Maybe even, I don’t know, take and post some “pretty” pictures of my breasts for Hy’s next Boobday?