Bruise. Stab. Tickle.

Yesterday I had acupuncture for the first time. Unless of course you count a kinky fuck I know who likes to play with needles, electricity and 'spleen 6'. Maybe it's best to just call this my first 'non-orgasmic acupuncture'. Yes. That's what it is.

The RMT is sweet. She's been hurting me a lot lately. I started to see her due to the world's most annoying headache. Ok, MY world's most annoying headache. I don't typically get headaches, so when one shows up and sticks around for over four weeks, I get a little tired of the ill company. Apparently it's tension. My neck, shoulders & back were like a cement wall and on a scale of 1-10, the pain reaches an 11 when J squeezes the hell out of knots and bubbles and creepy, gross feeling bits inside my back. I get squicked out just thinking about the feeling. *shudder* 

Let's just say, she puts the sadists I know to shame. (even you, Suz the Bruise) 

So while laying on a table with barely a breath to recover from the abuse and needles getting shoved in loads of weird places, J decides to massage my feet. (I had mentioned planter fasciitis). There I was. Sore and terrified to move with random needles all over and feeling unable to kick my ticklish feet. On the plus side, she told me I "make the most adorable noises" ... And I tell her "that's not the first time I've heard that" ... 

In happy news, I've been pain free the entire day. No drugs. No tension. No stress. (well, I refuse to think about the stressful bits of my life right now)

J suggests I hang upside down to reealllllly stretch out my back. 

hmm

I don't suppose I can find someone willing to string up a fat gal?

Upside down lion

and another thing...

My life is full of happy. 
The sad/hard things are just obstacles I'll conquer. 
I really am a blessed lion. 
My heart giggles and is full. 

Protecting the Pride

A lion has more than one kind of pride to look out for.

The pride I'm contemplating right now, is not dignity nor is it satisfaction in something. It's the big giant family that a lion belongs to.

Often we hear talk of 'chosen family' versus 'blood or birth family' and today I'm rather concerned for my blood 'pride'... the one I was born into.

I've done well to separate myself from much of my family's troubles. I love my family, I really do. I just don't love the drama and the trauma and so I keep a safe distance.


Today I learned some very unsettling news about a family member. Someone who, although I love her, I have long given up on. Maybe that's mean or wrong, or whatever it is... but I chose long ago to live a life that's happy and healthy for ME and that means not dragging this person's horrible, unhealthy and sad life into mine. Maybe it's just further indication that leaving the 'born into' pride was the best thing for me, but I'm sad.


I'm also incredibly and unbelievably aware in this moment of how blessed I am. I hate for anyone to struggle. I hate for someone that I love to be so down and out. I've been hoping and waiting for a 'rock bottom' day to happen, and even with what I've learned today I'm not convinced that rock bottom was found. I don't know if she'll ever be well, safe, happy or able to take proper care of herself.

Despite the yucky feeling that this news gave me, I choose to allow life's little let downs be a lesson or a moment of reflective truth whenever possible. I just hope that the answers I need come magically from no where so I can feel even more at peace.

Mean Lions

Mean lions aren't cute.

Now, I'm not talking about ferocity here. I'm meaning mean. Whether deliberate or unintentional, sometimes lions are just plain mean.

Today, I was caused to think about being mean. A couple of times in fact. Hence the post.

First, I am having a difficult time at work. See, I have this somewhat newish boss who I have zero confidence in. I'm feeling bored and not heard. She's a lovely enough lady. Comes from a very stiff, corporate environment and stands out like a sore thumb in our super chill tech world environment.

I'm baffled honestly. And in all of my baffled-ness, I think mean things. I say them, too. To friends and stuff. I talk about how incompetent I feel she is. How out of her element. How in over her head. How not connected to our reality. And in all of my mean thoughts, no matter how true it may be that I don't get why she is in the position she's in.... I'm simply becoming angry. Angry is kinda ugly. I don't like ugly.

So much of my day, I played it over and over in my head. My sanity is not even close to being jeopardized, but it's what I put at the forefront of my mind. Before it eats at me (or causes tension headaches!?) I need to move on, not be angry and play like a nice lion. Gentle lion. Kind lion. The kind of creature I really am.

And then, a wonderful friend created a conversation (one that needs to be discussed further and by more people) that got me to thinkin' about my attitude and level of mean. I'm guilty of judging people by their grammar, the way the spell (or misspell, rather), and even the way they speak or put words together. To consider someone 'less than' because of anything at all, is not who I thought I was. Funny how little moments cause a little lion to dig deep and deal.

Of course, the wheels in my little head turned non-stop. That's how I roll roar.

To Be A Lion

Fierce. 
Strong. 
Majestic. 
Protector. 
Respected. 
Courageous. 


That's just what first came to mind when I began seriously considering what has me so wrapped up in all things lion. At first, it was just goofy fun. A handful of people who met me first as that girl in a crazy tutu still call me 'little lion', and it still makes me giddy and happy to hear it. 


All giddiness aside, I eventually began to curiously question why the 'lion' in me was lingering. What is it about 'being a lion' that I couldn't shake? Why would I want to shake it? 


I really wondered how less-than-charming it would quickly become to remain this 'lion'. I'm a person, after all. A girl or something. I never really know how to describe who I am. I only know who I am. Maybe it's easier to be a lion. 


But how does one 'be' a lion?


A tutu doesn't make me a lion. 


A tail can't help me roar. 


My courage will never be dependent upon the size of my mane. 


I was not able to explain it. Not to others and not to myself. It just seemed right. It seemed silly and right. I fell asleep at night with the goofiest smile on my face and in my mind, I saw the lion me. The lion me was smiling too, and napping happily. Sleep followed easily. Being a lion felt warm and peace-filled somehow. 

Then I started to scratch my head in deeper wonder and contemplate the origins of my lion self. Where did this really come from? Could there be a bigger meaning underneath what was once just a costume? 


I started reading about the symbolism of a lion, about a lion as a totem animal, and more generally about the nature and life of a lion. But before I share some of the thoughts that most closely evoked a greater need to 'be' a lion, let me set it up for you a bit. 


In the period between what was simply supposed to 'just' be a fun weekend away and coming to seek the lion within, I had already begun a lot of serious contemplation and soul searching. My time at Unholy Harvest sparked a newfound desire to be serious about the life I wanted to be living. I felt a rekindled urge to find Community. I was compelled to form friendships and relationships and attempt to dig away at the buried bits of me that I had ignored. A simple weekend away caused quite the stir! 


So how wonderful it was when I connected my need for community and a lion's dedication and dependance upon its pride. A lion knows when to fight, and when it's not worth fighting. A lesson I've found difficult at best. Lions spend their energy wisely - something else I've needed to adjust in my life as I have given so much of myself and spread myself so thin, that I'm eventually good to no one and that's hardly healthy. 


As loud as a lion may be with that scary roar, he is also gentle and quiet and peaceful. I talk too much. Ok, way too much. (even this post is way too long and most people will never read this far) 


Learning to be quiet, be still and breathe in the quiet is a difficult thing for me. But I get it. I get why I need to. And if 'being lion' helps me achieve that, then I am blessed. When I am calm and still and quiet, I see more clearly. 'Calm clarity' is apparently true of a lion according to some. 


Lion: Courage


I loved what I read here. Most specifically: "The French word for heart is coeur, the root word for courage. Courage comes from the heart and from one's deep sense of personal authority. When we have the courage to be true to ourselves, we have the power to act in ways that are in accord with our own spirit."


And this made so much sense to me. It really resonated. 

When Lion Spirit begins to make his presence known in your life (and you WILL know when he arrives), a new and brighter you will leap to the surface. Will-power, new strength, and a flurry of optimism will begin to flow. Intuition, creativity, and devotion will grow. You will begin to feel safe and secure in your own majestic powers, and opportunities will abound and be as self-evident as a bright sunbeam lighting your path (source) 

So, funny how that works. The very things that I've shone a light on in my life. The things I have worked on improving or changing. And the parts of 'me' that hid beneath the surface waiting to bubble up.... all of it suddenly became clearer. 


All because of what was once just a costume.  


Creature of the Sun Lord, beloved of the Lady,
Reveal to me the ancient methods of magic.
Walk beside me as I grow in strength and courage.
Show me when to keep ties strong
and when to break them.
Help me to understand the times for work
and the times for rest.
Mighty lion, lend me your energies.
(from source)

What says 'lion' to you? 






.

Lion Pride

Where did we leave off? Oh yes! I was sharing about the costume!

I was hell-bent on having a tutu, no matter what I finally arrived on 'being'... So I had decided in the end to 'be a lion'. A lion in tutu!

Not only did I make the tutu in the picture below, but I made a smaller one to be my 'mane' and on my wrists were little 'tufts' of 'fur' all made of tulle. Seeing how I had both a tutu and a mane, I decided I was undoubtedly a gender-variant lion. I was certainly colourful and cheerful! I was also very shy, however.

Lion in a tutu - Ottawa

Before leaving my quaint little 'town' for this fun event and new horizons, I had decided to push my boundaries as much as possible. I tend to be a shy human, and learned that even as a lion I was still rather shy. Aside from running loose a time or two and having strange and sudden bursts of courage where I would entertain the thought of talking to a hot stranger, I mostly hid behind my mane whenever any form of attention was directed my way. Kind of funny really. Wear a giant puff of in-your-face tulle and try to go unnoticed. C'mon. Do it. 

I truly didn't want to be a wallflower, but neither was I skilled in flirting or making my desires known. BUT, I kept reminding myself that I wanted to make the most out of this awesome opportunity. 

I learned a lot about myself that weekend. 

To steal quotes from a previous writing of mine when I was freshly home from that trip:

I could write an entire book on personal discoveries, growth and self-awareness as they unfold, but this is not about my journey as much as it is about finding an oasis. A resting place. Somewhere where everything felt 'normal' and fine.

I have never witnessed such a beautifully woven tapestry of women. Size, shape, stature, age, experiences, orientation, gender identity, play style, love style, personality - all meshed harmoniously like a giant leather glove that fits whoever dares try it on. 

One of the greatest bits of new found knowledge I left Ottawa with, was a need for community. Community is something I plan to explore further in a future post.

Let me leave you with this teaser: Lions live and thrive in prides. They understand and need community. I'm very thankful for the extended, scattered-about community that I've been introduced to and very warmly received in.

Do you believe in magic?

The hood I ordered from www.hoodsforthawoods.com came today! I just need a sunbeam to curl up in.

It's more than just a costume.

This little spot on the interwebs will serve as a home for the many thoughts and contemplations I should have been writing down as they occurred. My journeys through this jungle called life. I have many happy, thoughtful and thought-filled light-bulb style moments as of late, and I want to be able to go back to them and see how they've added to my life.

First, if you have yet to really meet me, or are not too familiar with my recent obsession with 'being lion', let me explain the transformation. Possibly I'll understand it even better for myself by sharing it here.

I was getting ready to travel to Ottawa for an event. Not just an event, but a leather event. Ok, even better than that.. it was a leather dyke event. Where I come from, there really is no leather community at large, and certainly what exists is heteronorm and not my cup of tea so much. Unholy Harvest was going to be a great time. Like in the years before, there was a theme and this past October the theme was Cirque du Sade.

That shouldn't be a problem for many a dyke, but for a girl who can barely manage to choose clothes for work (I mean, what tank top will I wear with my jeans tomorrow?), choosing a themed costume to wear to an event that promised beautiful, wonderful people I had never met? Yikes.

I had it figured out really. I was going to be a clown. I had it sketched out, and the clown was going to be incredible, hot and dark. And then someone I care about, like a lot, reminded me of her hate/fear of clowns. Oh yeah, there's that. What if there are people at Unholy Harvest who hate clowns? I was back to square one.

I'm thankful for that moment of 'oh-no' because it is what led me to the lion. And, despite the fact that I was once hell bent on attending the Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Clown College, I have since grown to realize how much 'being a lion' suits me. In the coming days, I plan to better articulate just how it is that 'lion' makes me purr.

It's more than just a costume.