Yesterday, Sunday, I attended a meeting of the Gay Men's SM and Spirituality Discussion Group in NYC.
For confidentiality reasons, I can't say what everybody else talked about, but rest assured, it was pretty powerful stuff.
I hit on a few points. And those I can talk about.
I talked about my tattoo journey (next session is this Friday night), and my boyhood. Two verrrry profound journeys.
And I talked about Delta. Here's the gist of it. Pre-Delta, I was listless and out of sorts. Whiney. No energy. Most disturbingly, I could not get enough sleep. At all. A couple of nights, I slept eleven hours. And I was sleeping right through my blaring alarm. Like nodding at a Stones concert.
The sleep thing was the real red flag. I resent the fact that I have to sleep. "Time enough to sleep when you're dead," my saintly hoar-headed grandmother used to say, and I took this to heart.
I was, plainly, depressed.
And then I went to Delta. I come back, and I'm full of energy. I'm getting so much done. This is no longer the house of a depressed person. I'm whistling while I work.
So what brought that about?
Pretty obvious, I think.
I need SM in my life. It's like a vitamin deficiency. I don't get enough of it, and I'm outta whack. (Huh. "No SM" = "outta whack." That pun was unintentional, I swear
It's not like being horny. Not like it at all. It's not a thing I notice, or even, particularly, long for.
But without SM, life just fades to gray. I forget who I am. SM is my Red Path in life. I get off it, and I'm lost. I still may be following a perfectly fine path, but it's not mine.
Okay. Now I've got to figure out a way of getting my minimum requirements met before next September.
Perhaps some lucky boy out there would like to make of his back a birthday present for me?