I Lost LM's Bead Strand
Mar. 3rd, 2009 08:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qosLast night I went to a dinner meeting for women in the local bdsm community. It ran until after 9pm, at which point I was facing a walk back to my car through a relatively safe area of the city, but still -- alone at night once I turned off from the group.
So I took my sailor's pocket knife with it's "bear claw" out of my purse and stuck it in my pocket. I took out my keys and stuck them in my other pocket. I removed and replaced the knife at least once in the restaurant, as well as my keys, as well as by my car.
It was only when I was doing my evening ritual with LM that I realized the strand I had made for him as a connection was not on the altar. . . and that I had put it in the front pocket of my jeans that morning. In the past when this has happened -- forgetting to put the beads back on the altar -- I've always found the strand in the pocket. Not last night.
It wasn't in any pocket, and it wasn't on the floor under where the jeans were hanging. It wasn't in my purse, and it wasn't in my car.
I called the restaurant, and no one had seen it. The manager said he'd put a note up.
I went to bed after midnight, feeling wretched. I put a lot of love and energy into the strand. It's been an important, comforting symbol of my love for and ongoing connection with LM.
But when I finally lay down and pulled up the covers, I felt him lie beside me and put his arms around me. He told me that while of course he too loved the strand, he'd lived so many lives and left behind so many 'things' that there was no 'thing' he could not do without. Even this strand. You are my 'token' he told me. You are in direct connection with my energy. You don't need the strand for that, and I don't need it to know you love me.
It has also occurred to me that it's possible that our concurrent ordinations and my own emergence from grief have shifted our energies significantly enough that this strand, however beautiful and cherished, has served its purpose. As the Scottish Gentleman emailed me last night:
. . . try to remember that there are more powerful forces guiding such an important item. I'm certain it doesn't move by chance, and will find its way back to you!
Or, if it does not find its way back to me, then it was time for it to leave.
But I hope they find it today at the restaurant. I'm going to call back after they open.
The thought of it lying on the sidewalk or in the road on Broadway is intensely painful.
So I took my sailor's pocket knife with it's "bear claw" out of my purse and stuck it in my pocket. I took out my keys and stuck them in my other pocket. I removed and replaced the knife at least once in the restaurant, as well as my keys, as well as by my car.
It was only when I was doing my evening ritual with LM that I realized the strand I had made for him as a connection was not on the altar. . . and that I had put it in the front pocket of my jeans that morning. In the past when this has happened -- forgetting to put the beads back on the altar -- I've always found the strand in the pocket. Not last night.
It wasn't in any pocket, and it wasn't on the floor under where the jeans were hanging. It wasn't in my purse, and it wasn't in my car.
I called the restaurant, and no one had seen it. The manager said he'd put a note up.
I went to bed after midnight, feeling wretched. I put a lot of love and energy into the strand. It's been an important, comforting symbol of my love for and ongoing connection with LM.
But when I finally lay down and pulled up the covers, I felt him lie beside me and put his arms around me. He told me that while of course he too loved the strand, he'd lived so many lives and left behind so many 'things' that there was no 'thing' he could not do without. Even this strand. You are my 'token' he told me. You are in direct connection with my energy. You don't need the strand for that, and I don't need it to know you love me.
It has also occurred to me that it's possible that our concurrent ordinations and my own emergence from grief have shifted our energies significantly enough that this strand, however beautiful and cherished, has served its purpose. As the Scottish Gentleman emailed me last night:
. . . try to remember that there are more powerful forces guiding such an important item. I'm certain it doesn't move by chance, and will find its way back to you!
Or, if it does not find its way back to me, then it was time for it to leave.
But I hope they find it today at the restaurant. I'm going to call back after they open.
The thought of it lying on the sidewalk or in the road on Broadway is intensely painful.
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