The Way Things Are.

When we last left our heroine she was in the throws of some major life upheavals…

What’s happened in the intervening months?

Did she, in fact, leave Lover, as she stated she would? Has she, at last, or at least, stumbled onto a new path, thru personal, and financial, turbulence?

Let’s rejoin our heroine… And see what’s up, or maybe what went down.

The intense grayness of hopelessness has lifted.

The beautiful thing about life coming to a screeching halt, is that there’s a sudden emptiness that leaves room for the most amazing changes. From the bleakest of environments come the sweetest smelling flowers. Likewise, it takes a lot of shit to make a garden.

What have I been up to? Gardening mostly. Both literally and figuratively.

Literally: the winter pruned peach tree won’t bare fruit this year. The poppy I planted three years ago is finally flowering, towering four feet high, deep scarlet with black piping, a dusty and heavily pollenated, dark lavender heart. Worth the wait. Breath taking. And the veggie garden in the back has been planted, including six artichokes, (I don’t think they’ll survive here in salt city but I’m not letting that stop me). You never know until you try.

Figuratively: my personal and financial life has taken a turn at budding, hard work and personal growth rewarded with flowers and promise of future produce. What more can I ask for?

Owl and I are still eliminating the bugs of running a joint household. The greeks used to debate a great deal on the hows and whys of managing one’s household. The importance of having one’s affairs in order, as the most basic of civic duties. A good citizen of a health democracy would not dream of neglecting their household responsibilities. And not least, they believed a healthy household has greater income than outgo. I tend to agree with them; I believe our household well on the way to good health and cheer.

My boundaries with Lover have been firmly reestablished. He is back to being a client, rather than lover. I’m not grieved at the change, to my astonishment. I’m back to practicing safe sex with him, which vexes him, but makes me feel better. Logical, rational, and applicable repercussions suck like that.

I came out of retirement, though not in the same fashion as previously. I’m trying my hand at being a pro dom. Quite natural if you ask Me. I feel as though I’ve suddenly stumbled upon the most obvious of conclusions, after making a thorough mess trying to solve things the hard way: if it ain’t broke don’t fix it. In zen fashion I had an enlightenment.

What have I trained for all my life, what do I know inside and out, where do my passions lie, when I dream of the best of all possible futures, what do they include? Kink, Sex, Human Behavior. I’ve found my calling. It sounds a little corny maybe, but I’m so much more comfortable with life than I ever have been. More balanced and grounded. I love what I’m doing. I can’t wait to tell you more about it, but I think I’m done writing for the day.

P.S. I’m processing some hemp rope and am planning on blogging about it in a future post.

Best regards,
Miss Grey.