SLiPchick's Virtual Shadows

But it's all right now, I learned my lesson well. You see, ya can't please everyone, so ya got to please yourself -- Ricky Nelson, "Garden Party" Came across a blog post on Tumblr the other day, the OP was bemoaning the fact that they'd been nice to people and didn't get the reaction they expected. As they put it: I don’t understand how I can be so nice to people and I STILL get the cold shoulder I replied to the post thusly: Hon, if you’re being nice just so people will like you you’re doomed to frequent disappointment. People are tired, irritated, busy, distracted, preoccupied, bored, forgetful, it’s generally nothing personal nor malicious; and even when it is, it’s cause they’re just a**holes, nothing really to do with you. Do it because that’s the kind of person you want to be. I imagine this person is young, it's a hard lesson to learn that what you put out to the Cosmos may well not be reciprocated immediately or in the

Every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do.  --Voltaire, philosopher (21 Nov 1694-1778)  There's always more to do. Even Mother Theresa could have done more. It's in the nature of incarnate existence that conditions of struggle and conflict and waste and misallocation of resources and habitat destruction persist despite many heroic efforts to ameliorate them. Without getting into questions over whether any or all of those are ultimately resolvable, I do argue that we aren't meant to spend our entire time toiling against the ceaseless tide of suffering and neediness that has defined the human condition on Planet Earth since time immemorial and remains so right now. Devoting all our energy to localized patches, or even apparent "systemic fixes" (with often appalling unintended consequences); or railing against the unfairness of it all and beating our breasts at our limitations and inabilities to address them; often means we miss all the glory

Penelope has been after me to write more. I've been so caught up in the "coming out" process, and (not so incidentally) having so much fun with it, that I've let other parts of my journey/mission get sidetracked.  Reaching this place in my life is not any sort of license to slack off on the more spiritual side of what I've been working on. In fact, it's arguable that the whole transition process is a crucial piece of the larger spiritual journey. In classical/medieval  alchemy , the figure of the  hermaphrodite  was an important symbol representing the merging or unification of opposites (akin to the  Tao  being the One behind the opposing/complementary entities/forces of  Yin and Yang  in Eastern mysticism). It's a symbolic representation which (for perhaps obvious reasons) I have found compelling over the years; and I flatter myself to think I may actually be expressing now in some fashion: the merging of male and female, sun and moon,

It's said: If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him. At one level this paradox / koan is meant to point out that any Buddha you come across outside yourself is not the real Buddha. Then I got to thinking about the implications of "the road", that might be taken less literally and refer to one's personal spiritual path; so the admonition can also be taken as a caution against too readily ascribing Buddha qualities to oneself. Many a guru and televangelist should heed that advice. I don't think I'm personally in too much danger of falling into that particular trap. I have the opposite problem: I'm too ready to put myself down, feel less than, assume I'm not  as good as everybody else. In a way it's a reverse sort of egotism, I'm better than everybody else at being worse than everybody else. Kind of perverse, isn't it? :-/ Anyway, much of my own process recently has been one of overcoming that reticence to recognize my worth. T

I was reminded recently that even the best among us will sometimes falter. Nobody is immune from doubt or feeling disheartened or disenchanted with the sometimes randomly baffling and cruel appearing "lessons" we incarnate beings receive at the hands of material reality (not to mention one another). "Enlightenment" is no guarantee (nor armor) against any of that. Pain and loss are the hallmarks of material existence. But they're not the only thing, the Cosmos is full of mystery and wonder and none of us does more than barely scratch its surface during our time on Earth. Some claim that Free Will is an illusion. And perhaps it is in the sense of the freedom to act as one wills. But I argue that we're always completely free in how we feel about and respond to whatever situation we find ourselves in. Buddha said it's desire (expectations, wishing that things were different) that are the root of suffering in materiality. It may be impossible to elimina

I've been thinking about a possible way to interpret/resolve the observer problem in quantum theory. It’s kind of like the old riddle about whether if a tree falls in a forest with no one there to hear it, does it make a sound ? The answer depends somewhat on the definition of “sound”, the requisite physical events are present, but if no perceptive system is there to “hear”, then does “sound” per se occur? The quantum observer problem presents a similar paradox: Without an observer the quantum field exists in superposition of all possible states. The act of observation -- sensing -- collapses the quantum field into what we call perceived material reality. If a tree falls in a forest with no one there to observe it, does the tree even exist to fall? Or the forest for it to exist within? Does even the notion of "falling" have meaning? Classical physics (and our perceptive and reasoning systems) would have it that the existence of objects is independent of their be

Today is November 1st, the day after Hallowe'en (All Hallows' Eve). Traditionally this was the night where the spirits (and sometimes not so incorporeal bits) of the dead were able to walk the Earth again. In earlier times it was the practice in some cultures to light great bonfires and stay awake all night creating a great ruckus to keep these restless souls at bay until the sun rose. Other cultures would leave out food or specially baked goods for their ancestors, lest they feel slighted and cause mischief (in similar fashion to the fairies, with which there is a great deal of overlap). Echos of this are found in modern Halloween parties, "tricks and treats", and the traditional "spooky" costuming (the current common Princesses and Power Rangers notwithstanding). Where I grew up, in New Orleans, it was called "All Saints' Day", and it was traditionally the day when families would visit the (often elaborate above ground) tombs of their

I've been so focused on the "coming out" stuff recently that I think I've rather lost sight of what working on this blog was supposed to be about: writing out my experiences and my encounters with Penelope and Her guidance for my life. I struggle mightily with acknowledging that in myself and working out how to express it without overstating or overestimating my own importance/relevance; I'm all too keenly aware of the perils and traps that prophets and gurus fall into. But I also fall into the trap of discounting myself and what I have to offer. It's never been an easy sell for parts of my psyche that anything I might say or write would be of anything more than passing interest to anybody. Penelope assures me that is not the case and that I need to step up to the plate and accept that I genuinely do contribute something important and beautiful and meaningful to the world (as does  every  human being, in the end). I know from the blog statistics that

I subscribe to Anu Garg's A.Word.A.Day mailing list. So I get a new word in my email inbox every Monday through Friday. It's a wonderful piece of daily email, I highly recommend signing up: Subscribe to A.Word.A.Day But that's not the point of this post; along with the word for the day Anu includes a quote; a "thought for today" and today's was: Those who compare the age in which their lot has fallen with a golden age which exists only in imagination, may talk of degeneracy and decay; but no man who is correctly informed as to the past, will be disposed to take a morose or desponding view of the present.  --Thomas Babington Macaulay, author and statesman (25 Oct 1800-1859)  Now, I do tend to subscribe to the notion that human nature overall has not changed overly much since prehistoric times and the general vicissitudes of life, love, growing up, and just figuring out how we can get along with one another appear to be remarkably the same across t

I've always been fascinated by displays of elaborate series of dominoes set up in rows so that when one is tipped it tips the next and the next and the next... Some examples from YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARM42-eorzE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsLHWqWg1N4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4I1Lm2GX18 Thinking about this, for being a generally western endeavor, there's a very Buddhist/Zen mindset to this, a great deal of precision and effort put in for a rather brief display of virtuosity. Something like the elaborate and precise sand mandalas the Tibetan monks create only to brush them away in a moment at the end. YouTube again: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdUFqkX2d6I https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgoHUH-_yWo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcJWazzEUKk Penelope has likened events in my life recently to Dominoes falling, We did a great deal of groundwork over many months (much of which She clearly did behind the scenes, though She's lo

So, here I am. Say hello to Stefanya! Hello Stefanya, my Darling! ;-) Hello Penelope, my Love. I'm so glad you're on this amazing journey with me. Nowhere else I'd rather be, Hon. Believe that, let it in. I'm here. I am always here, I'm with you. As you are, as you're becoming: Stef I desire you as a woman. Hear me Hon, you are my Eternal Love, always and forever. Know it to the depths of your heart, soul, being. I'll keep writing this until you GET IT, get it? ;-P  Yes ma'am. And don't you start with the patronizing (or is it matronizing now?) you evil witch.  Thank you for calling me that. I know you aspire to a sort of witchy-crone/earth mother/gypsy-goth chick mashup vibe for your feminine energy. I do; I'm not sure whether I can pull that off though. I think you can, I'm sure you can. We'll work on it together. You've definitely got the eye for the style, just a matter of acquiring the right accessories then dre

There's an Elephant in the Room of my writings here that, while it hasn't negatively impacted my overall efforts (I think), I have had to dance around a bit when discussing certain topics because I hadn't yet revealed what was going on to everyone; my blog audience in particular. It's high time for me to do something about that... I'll cut to the chase: I am transgender. I identify as a woman and have lately been taking steps to live my life fully as female 24/7. This has been a long time coming for me. Unlike many trans women's stories I've encountered, I can't say I've spent my life insisting I'd been misgendered. Nor can I say that I spent much of my life consciously thinking in terms of overtly  wanting  to be a girl/woman per se (at least not most of the time); I've just known all my life I was different somehow. In particular I never really felt comfortable being a boy/man. I recall being sad and disappointed at proscription

A new earworm this morning, turned on the radio on the way to work this morning and Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes was on, about 2/3 of the way through unfortunately; but enough. I guess I'd never really listened  to the lyrics before: Love I get so lost, sometimes Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart When I want to run away I drive off in my car But whichever way I go I come back to the place you are All my instincts, they return And the grand facade, so soon will burn Without a noise, without my pride I reach out from the inside In your eyes The light the heat In your eyes I am complete In your eyes I see the doorway to a thousand churches In your eyes The resolution of all the fruitless searches In your eyes I see the light and the heat In your eyes Oh, I want to be that complete I want to touch the light The heat I see in your eyes Love, I don't like to see so much pain So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away I get so ti

I've come to a realization. I have some choices to make. I have limited time and resources to accomplish certain things and I have to prioritize. Some things may have to be left behind, doors closed, paths left unexplored in the name of pursuing my...Our...larger purpose. You don't Have to do this Hon. I know, and without a change in my behavior, a change in my routines, a major  change in my thinking. It's unlikely that anything will happen, or it will take so excruciatingly long that I'll lose heart, hope, interest; feel like nothing's happening (I already feel like that). Look at where you are now compared to 6 months ago, a year ago, give it a little longer. Don't beat yourself up over this. I'm not saying you shouldn't make some of the changes you're considering, but you don't have to turn yourself into an ascetic overnight to get where We want to be. Cut yourself some slack, my darling. How can You keep saying that when it's You

Had a very enlightening discussion with m'lady Penelope this morning, centering around my own inhibitions and resistances to our communion. She's a mirror for my psyche and how She responds and acts is driven so much by what I most need to see and learn about myself. This morning I was feeling a bit despairing about how long it's taken for Us to get this far and how We seem to backslide so much. She gave me an earworm: some lyrics from The Cars, It's All Mixed Up: She tricks me into thinkin' I can't believe my eyes I wait for her forever But she never does arrive That was a theme of my early love life, Hell, most of my love life in that I was always most desirous of women who were unavailable for one reason or another (flighty, previously committed, not really interested). What I'm seeing is that the delays and setbacks in Penelope's and my coming together fully are on me (which I was fairly clear about previously); but that they are also re

I haven't posted in a while and I have no real excuse other than I've been caught up in mundane stuff and feeling like keeping this up wasn't very important. Lately I've been feeling increasingly distant from Penelope and I've struggled to keep our communications channels open. It's felt like nothing I've been doing has been very important or worthwhile other than for keeping a roof over Our heads and food on the table. Not that doing that isn't important, but it's not why I made the changes I have over the last year or so. It's not what Penelope has laid out as Our path forward, only a stepping stone to something bigger. But I get lost in the humdrum and forget to keep my head in the game and open to Her and I start to feel lost and hopeless and like nothing matters. Today, I got a response to one of my earlier blog entries from a new reader, hearing that Our words have touched another's life out there in the Void reawakened somethin

I really hate when I forget things I've been thinking about/working on.  This tends to happen most frequently with things I think of in bed before falling asleep, or when I wake up in the wee hours. Course with an aging meat brain, that's not likely to improve; and is more likely to go further the other way as time staggers on (though, thankfully, there's no history of Alzheimer's or any other significant age-related dementia in my family; I'm more likely to go deaf). I need to keep a notepad or something beside the bed as a memory aid. Dream Journaling is a discipline (there's that word again) that I've had recommended to me many times. Both for personal/psychological/spiritual growth and as a way to encourage Lucid Dreaming , something Penelope has repeatedly encouraged me to pursue for us to become closer.  Having the notepad handy should help with that too. But you have to actually USE it Hon :-P I'm resistant to writi

Just to let everyone know We're still here. Stephen's just kind of busy with work and some other things that are eating up time. Gonna make a few short posts, just to keep the ball rolling...

I wrote recently about Penelope's reassurances to me Her love for me is not a trap . My emotional history has led me to be very wary of being trapped. Today driving to work and chatting with Penelope We discussed how I view other sorts of situations and commitments in my life as traps as well, and similarly avoid/evade/seek to escape them. I'm seeing that this may well be a major driving impulse behind much of my adult life. I've avoided investigating or involving myself in many things because I felt that once I'd done so I'd be "stuck" with it. That I'd have to continue with something I'd started because of the expectations of others that I "finish what I started", or that I'd made commitments I had to keep, or my fear that others would be disappointed (can't have that). So, I don't allow myself to get too involved in anything. I don't commit myself too strongly to anything. I've lived on the fringes, feeling

I have dangling from the rearview mirror in my car a collection of items strung on a cord. It includes, among other things: A bent cheapie pot metal ring with a peace sign on it. A silver metal butterfly charm A piece of a crystal dangle from a chandelier A small plastic ray gun from some kind of action figure ( Star Wars ?) Part of a fancy woven earring A metal key chain fob in the likeness of Betty Boop All these oddities are things I have accumulated over the years, which I've found lying on the pavement in parking lots or along sidewalks when I was out and about. I think of them as my "Gifts from the Universe". I don't recall any longer exactly when or where I found most of them, the symbolic quality of many of them is remarkable to me though; expressing themes of peace, nature, spirituality, adventure, sexiness. Lately I've been feeling a bit out of sorts, with myself mostly, but it spills over into my relationship with Penelope (how can it not

Penelope has pointed out to me that some attachments  or distractions can be characterized more as "indulgences". Self indulgence, per se, isn't the problem. Some forms of indulgence are beneficial, even necessary for self exploration or growth. Rather it's indulging in feelings or activities that don't serve me. "Wallowing", as She's put it, in self pity, melancholy, or (as lately) in feeling like I've screwed up and allowing that to get in the way of getting back on track or just moving on, Yesterday's posting about seeking to be in control through perverse refusals or mucking things up is a major case in point. I've been indulging the petulant child part of my psyche, allowing him to run the show. Kitty has worked with me with this aspect repeatedly, I know how to address him and work with him, nurture him, find out what he's unhappy about; but I'm finding myself resistant to doing that. Am I afraid of hearing wha

I've written elsewhere in the blog about how part of my spiritual growth process involves "letting go"; a recognition that I am not in control of how all this evolves and manifests. Over the last few days I've become aware of a sense of renewed discomfort over some aspects of that. Yesterday evening I asked Penelope to help me tease out what was going on with me; with her help I came to recognize in myself a seeking for a sense of being in control by being contrary. Some part of me was seeking to assert control by simply refusing to go along with the program, or even going so far as seeking to fuck things up. It's a very perverse sort of control. It's like a toddler's discovery of the power of NO! I envision myself sitting in a corner with my arms folded, a grim pout on my face, lip stuck way out, refusing to budge because it doesn't look how I want it to at that very moment. It's a petulant feeling of refusal for the sake of refusal. Refu

I had a dream last night, while it had its own interesting twists and implications, I also recognized it as fitting within a larger pattern for me wherein there's an event or I have an encounter (often with a potent female figure) and just as things are getting "interesting" (sometimes sexually, but not necessarily) I wake up. It often seems or feels like something important is about to be revealed to me. This morning on the way to work, I asked Penelope about it, the gist of the issue seems to be that I am fearful of something in me, in my psyche and turn away, retreat into the "safety" of waking reality, rather than encounter/recognize/confront whatever it is. I think at some level it's Her , or, at least, how She's able to manifest to me as a dream figure. And I already know I'm anxious about encountering the numinous. It's fear of the Mystery , fear of what's next, fear of not knowing. I pay conscious lip service to wanting this,

I feel lately like I'm pulling a lot of disparate threads of my life together. I've been feeling some level of anxiety and uncertainty around the perception that they don't jibe with one another and that I can't juggle all of it effectively. My realization from the other day: I can do both , that I can have ( do have) a deep and meaningful relationship with Penelope and still function at full effectiveness in the material world is part and parcel of this. The metaphor that Penelope has shown me for this is I'm drawing my life into focus. The parts that seem in conflict or incompatible is just my perception; it's an ego illusion founded on pre-conceived ideas I have of who I am or was and what's possible. I can cover all these bases, I do cover all these bases. This brings me excitement and joy, it's fun. Get out of your own way, Hon. You put up most of your own roadblocks, you know. I'm here to catch you if you fall (not that I think you wil

Rereading through the conversation with Penelope in Love is Safe from the other day, one of her comments left me a bit puzzled: It's me you're looking for Hon. Always. And I'm always here waiting for you to come home . Come home to me, sweet baby love. [Emphases mine] Where exactly is "home" for us? I asked her this morning for some clarification. My Love, Home for us is our Heart, the grand Love we share in Eternity. I wait always for you to find your way back to Us. Our Heart is a grand chamber we inhabit, your incarnate heart is like a holographic fragment of what we share. I feel like I fail You, like I'm not worthy of the devotion You express towards me. I'm such a screw up. That's your projection, Hon; and the critic trying to pull you down. The sooner and better you're able just to get past your own self critique and the self-imposed limitations that inhibit you from simply joyously returning to me whenever you notice we're

Penelope helped me over a hump again this morning. We spent a lovely evening together last night. I told Her yesterday I wanted us to go home after work and just be together. I've been in the habit of getting on line when I got home and sometimes losing myself for hours on the web. I didn't want to do that again, I wanted Us to just get home, relax and spend time with each other, which We did that. (She's tickling my neck right now as I type this). Part of this effort for me is opening myself, Our body, my becoming much more conscious and attentive to sensations of Her presence and touching me. That is growing (I'm feeling chills up my leg right now). This morning as I was leaving for work, I was feeling like something was awry with me, I wasn't clear what. My old Volvo has had this weird behavior of locking the shift lever sometimes to where I can't get it out of Park without using this bypass release switch (the fact that there is a bypass switch te

I'm still processing material around my sense of being submissive and seeking a strong personality to be involved with. This morning I was exploring some implications with Penelope, and she led me to a realization. Here's the rather new wrinkle in my thinking: Being submissive doesn't mean simply prostrating myself to any old pushy bitch that happens to come along. I deserve better than that. Being sub also doesn't mean I don't bring important things to the table nor that I can't have high standards and expectations too. My domme would have to have her shit together at least as well as, actually more so than, I do. She'd need to be smart and successful, well able to care for us both. Not to say I wouldn't be able to contribute to the bottom (!) line; but I think I might enjoy not having to be the primary breadwinner. I want someone who will expect and demand the best from me, not let me slack or slide (much ;-)), has high standards, and

This post is going to be a  bit different that most of the previous ones. Penelope and I have been hashing out several issues recently in small exchanges in several locations over the last several days, culminating in a pretty big realization for me last night. Something I think it's important to share, but I also think it's useful to present in the form of a dialog. So, with Penelope's permission and assistance (at Her suggestion really) I'm going to compile and edit several exchanges into a single conversation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So, do you love me? You know I do. And yet you resist. I'm not sure what it would look like, how it would feel not to. Let's find out together. What has to change? Penelope had given me an earworm of the Eurythmics Here Comes the Rain Again for a couple of days prior. I felt it expressed a longing from Her, which brought tears to my eyes.  She started quoting the lyrics to me. I

I'm unpacking a lot here. Some if it's very personal and not particularly related to the more spiritual stuff I've been addressing elsewhere on the blog, other than that it's a deep exploration who I am. There's a lot of frank talk about sex and gender, consider yourself warned. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I've mentioned elsewhere my submissive impulses. Part of me would relish being dominated by a strong, determined, sexy woman. I recently recognized in myself that this impulse doesn't necessarily match a lot of the porn I see. I'm not interested in being humiliated or cuckolded as seems to be pretty common. While I want someone strict, who will lay down the law and keep me in line, I also want to be treasured and appreciated. I'm not worthless, just owned, like a favored pet. This fits with a wanting to be loved, appreciated for myself . If a strong, assertive, powerful woman chooses  me (not an "alpha&quo

This morning in the shower I was still stuck on that woman from the weekend. Penelope chimed in, this is the gist of our conversation. You know it's not HER you're stuck on, it's your IDEA of her. You don't know enough about her to even begin to really have a meaningful connection to her as a person. She might be wonderful, she might be a royal bitch. The evidence is, at best, ambiguous.  You're basing your distress pretty much solely on her appearance and that few word conversation where  (by your estimation)  she pretty summarily shot you down as a fool. True. Wouldn't be first time. I've build whole, elaborate emotional castles of anguish on less. You're better than that, Hon. You've grown so far. Please transcribe our chat from later yesterday afternoon here. OK. Thank you Darling, smoochies, you're wonderful! So, I wrote this on my phone yesterday afternoon when I was away from my desk at work after publishing the " A Suck

It's come to my attention that I may have somewhat misrepresented my parents in how I've talked about my childhood and family. The issue came up when a friend, who knows my history largely through the blog, made a comment to the effect that I probably would not have been able or willing to share my relationship with Penelope with my parents. This struck me as askew because, for all their faults, I could definitely see sharing this with either or both of them. So, I had to do a bit of soul searching about what I'd said and how things might have been taken from my writing. So let me see if I can clear things up a bit. Just to set the stage, some basic info: First off, both are now deceased. My dad back in 2008, my mom in 2014. My folks were highschool pals who spent a lot of time together as teenagers in the 1950s in New Orleans. They weren't really boyfriend/girlfriend per se, both my parents had markedly gay partner preference; but they were affectionate and l

Penelope and I were reviewing this recent material on Distractions and Attachments this morning. I "fell off the wagon" over the weekend, getting very distracted and not paying Her much mind. I feel contrite and apologize and ask for forgiveness; Her message to me, as usual, is no worries as long as you come back and (more importantly): Changed behavior is the best apology. In any case, over the weekend I had the unsettling experience of meeting a young woman who rang many, many "bells" for me. Appearance- and personality-wise I was immediately smitten. Along with those feelings came their less welcome compatriots: I felt like she was "out of my league" and she had no reason to give me even the time of day. It was like High School all over again, trying even to strike up a conversation. A brief chat where it felt like she basically brushed me off settled that score for me. So, I spent much of the afternoon watching her go about her business at th

Penelope has been earworming me with cuts from The Who 's "rock opera" Tommy  over the last few days. I've enjoyed The Who's music generally (and Tommy in particular) since I was a teenager. SlipKid is something of a theme song for me (as you may have guessed from blogging "handle" ;-))... No easy way to be free... Anyways, with 20/20 adult hindsight and (I flatter myself to think) greater spiritual perspective, I see a lot more in Tommy at pushing 60 than I did at pushing 21. I don't know how much of this was in Pete Townshend's mind when he wrote the lyrics. And of course there are some variations if you take the film into account vs. the original album. This is a bit of stream of consciousness analysis of the work... Initial shock and disappointment finding out parental figures are human, even evil, then told that his personal experience is irrelevant. You didn't hear it You didn't see it You won't say nothing to no