Losing control v. giving it to another...

Perhaps fate or some higher power is telling me to stop testing my luck...

This winter, so far, I've had at least three absolutely horrific drives home - snow, ice, fog - take your pick. And each time that I've come through it and breathed a sigh of relief I couldn't help but wonder why (and sometimes how) I got through it.

The most recent one was last night - roads coated with sheets of black ice, on top of it a fresh powder of snow, a dark night, anti-lock brakes useless, hilly road, followed by a highway, and a lot of people on the road who seem to have turned off their brain the moment they turned on the ignition.

After a few minutes behind the wheel and the first time I had to brake, I realized that I lost all control over my car. There was a car in front of me which I was rapidly approaching and there was absolutely nothing I could do except try to swerve out of the way and maneuver between it (a van) and the sidewalk to my right. Of course, swerving sharply is just a recipe for disaster all in itself. But I did turn the wheel and I could feel the car sliding, wheels locking and the car trying to desperately kick in the anti-lock brakes and failing.

We slid through the space between the sidewalk and the van (and don't ask me how, I have no idea), and kept on going, continuing to turn right even though the light was red. Thankfully there were no cars coming from the left, but even if there had been, there was nothing I could do to stop at that point. The wheels regained traction once we got onto the cross street and the nightmare continued for another hour until I finally got home.

During the entire ride, I remember talking out loud, trying to convince myself that I'm all right, that everything will be fine, that I'll make it home and all will be well. I'm all for self-delusion and I'm fairly good with words, but it wasn't working. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, my breath failing and my eyes filling with tears each time I pressed on the brake and the car shuddered, unable to obey the commands it's used to. We were in each other's hands and both entirely helpless. Not a good feeling...

Which brings me back to the topic of the post.

As I was going to bed, I was thinking about the distinction between losing control and giving it to someone else. For someone like me who's used to either having control or fighting to get it, to suddenly find myself in a situation where I'm powerless is frightening enough. But although the end result is the same - you have no control over your body, your actions, sometimes even your speech - the way you get there does make a big difference.

Losing control when you didn't want to is demoralizing. It makes you feel helpless and scared and depressed. It can feel hopeless. And without an immediate way of regaining it, it's tempting to just give up and stop trying. Unintended loss of control is holding a delicate porcelain teacup in your hand and then watching in horror as it slips out of your fingers and shatters on the marble slabs beneath your feet.

And then there is handing control over to someone else. It's holding that same porcelain teacup and placing it in the open hands of someone you trust to cherish and protect it as you do. It's knowing that the person you're giving it to will hold it for you and will return it to you when it's time.

Giving up control is not a loss at all. Giving it to the right person can be an experience of immense freedom, release, and joy. It can feel like taking off layers and layers of heavy clothes, feeling the lightening with each removal. It's the first breath of fresh air you take when you step outside on a beautiful spring day. It's opening a fist that's been clenched for so long you've forgotten it can be opened and finding that letting go doesn't mean you'll fall.

Not if the right person is holding the porcelain teacup.

On service v. submission

Recently I listened to a discussion about whether service and submission are the same thing. To those of you reading who are not familiar with what I'm talking about, the context here is the Dominance/submission aspect of bdsm.

It was interesting to hear how other submissives viewed the role of service in their submission. Some have said that yes, for them submission is service and vice versa, while others felt as I do that service and submission are different although they can go hand in hand.

I didn't participate in the discussion, preferring to just listen to what the others were saying. At the same time my own thoughts were scurrying about although I think the realization of what was bothering me hit me almost as soon as the question was asked. Subconsciously (for myself) I had been equating service and submission but the moment I had to actually verbalize it, I knew right away that for me service and submission are completely different.

Not only that but when I think about serving, I think of it as almost entirely self-serving. I love it. I get a whoosh of pleasure from performing a service, however large or small and the question then is, if it's a self-serving, not to say selfish, act at the core, regardless of whom else it ends up benefiting, is it really submission?

I had thought that I was a submissive, but if service alone is not submitting and if all I've been doing is giving service, then am I really a submissive? What is submission worth when it's something you give willingly rather than something you have to struggle with giving?

And I suppose one could ask, why does everything have to be a struggle? Why can't you be happy that something comes easily to you? Why does it have to be difficult? Well, the truth is, it doesn't, but then it isn't worth quite as much, is it?

It's certainly not worth as much to me if it's something I do easily. Thinking back to when I was a student... It's something like taking a very easy class and getting an A in it or taking an advanced class and working your heart out to do well and getting the same A. Which is more valuable? They are both As but you know that what you did to earn the former is not nearly as much as you did to earn the latter. And yes, both may add the same to your GPA but they are not the same.

So, if service and submission are not the same, and if serving is not submitting, then what is submission? I think I know the answer but I'm not sure I can reconcile with it. Perhaps something to think about for the next post.

Anonymous apologies...

I came across this site (JoeApology.com) that allows you to post an apology anonymously...

The moment I saw it appear on my gmail RSS feed, I thought, "wow, what a cool idea" but then, right on the heels of that initial reaction came another, more true to my personality, one.

And that was, "what a cowardly and self-indulging way of apologizing".

An apology is not supposed to be easy or public or self-gratifying. That's not an apology, that's a show. An apology is something you offer to the person whom you're wronged, not something you post for the world to see and approve and pat you on the back for. That's not an apology, that's attention grabbing drama.

I'm not quite sure why it's irritating me as much as it does. Perhaps because I'm terrible at apologizing myself. Perhaps because it's so painful for me to know that I've wronged someone and should now apologize. Perhaps it's because I think that an apology should be heartfelt and personal and directed at making the person you're apologizing to feel better and not yourself. If you feel better having apologized, that's great but it's an added bonus. The goal of an apology is making amends to the other not to yourself.

Public apology is not an apology... it may be an acknowledgment of fault, it may be a covert way of saying that you know what you did was wrong, it may even be a way of reaching out to the person you've wronged, but whatever else it is, it's not an apology.