Scarlet's Real Magic

I only found the hidden mystery and adventure in my marriage when I gave up the fight for control. This is my journey to the wild place in my heart, and to His. ***

NSFW. 18+. If you're under 18, know that there is a time and a place for everything, and this is not your time ***

To all would be plagiarists: if you're tempted to copy something here and claim it as your own, if the space inside you is so empty that you want to steal something to fill it up, then do this: go outside, fall to your knees on God's green earth, and beseech the angels of creation to bless you with your own words. Then get up, go back inside, and do the work. Your own work. Nothing else will ever fill you up.
protectedbythelionsmane:
I see the world in two different ways: magical and miraculous on the one hand, and—wait, magical and mystical on the other. 
I think I might see the world only one way.

protectedbythelionsmane:

I see the world in two different ways: magical and miraculous on the one hand, and—wait, magical and mystical on the other. 

I think I might see the world only one way.

My story isn’t sweet and harmonious like invented stories. It tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.

—Hermann Hesse  (via iloverainandcoffee)

(Source: stxxz.us, via quixotic-order)

antidote

Yesterday was a no-good, terrible, really bad day. The energy from people (a person) near me became toxic, and as a result, by day’s end I felt poisoned.

Then Roman came home.

He told me in no uncertain terms what I was and was not to do relative to this person. I listened to him with a furrow between my brows, unable to stop frowning. As he talked, my face uncrinkled. I was so relieved to not think anymore. I’d been thinking in circles all day long, and making ruts in my brain. Anxiety was making me ill.

He even told me to stop crying. And made me say, “yes, sir,” through my tears.

I stopped thinking. I stopped crying. I went to sleep.

This moment brought to you by the D/s for Mental Health Society.

My Sexy D/s Blog

Here’s the problem with writing a sexy D/s blog.

Sometimes we aren’t all that sexy. Or all that D/s-ey.

See, we’re in that in between space. We’re in between being parents and still being someone’s children. That’s not a sexy place to be, frankly, when both parents and children are in your house. Surrounded by people, most of whom I am related to by blood and DNA makes me—well—

Vanilla.

Really, really vanilla. Like more vanilla than vanilla ice cream. More vanilla than Laura Bush. More vanilla than Pope Francis. 

So in this summery house-full-of-offspring and prespring and oldspring and God knows who else, we are NOT very much into this whole power exchange idea.

Except Roman.

Roman isn’t bothered by any of the offspring/old prespring people at all. I have to say that. He isn’t. He shrugs and takes me into the bedroom by my hair and spanks me as hard as he likes when I give him that look or get mouthy because —let’s face it—I’m safe, aren’t I? I mean, there are people here.

I mean—

 What?

Hold on, he’s calling me.

He wants to see me privately, so just wait a sec—

Okay, so that’s how I end up in the bedroom, being held by my hair.

There’s only one thing that keeps Roman from being all D to my s. And that’s work. Travel, and work.

So sometimes that happens, too.

But then there’s less to talk about.

Except everything else I’m thinking of. 

image

My Scattered Mind
With apologies to my followers:
I never really know what I’m doing here. What happens is that I wake up (in the morning, after sleeping, or suddenly my mind awakens, after working, or I’m on a walk, and my brain sits upright all at once) and I realize there’s something I want to (need to/have to) say.
So I scurry (or wander or trip over) to my laptop, and write down the words that are plinking against the inside of my head. And then all at once every photo I see here becomes pertinent, and things feel kind of theme-ish. At least to me.
But some days (like today), I am everywhere at once. I am up and down and back and forth and I reblog things and then another thing and I think my mind is settling down to something but then no no no it isn’t.
So this is just my thank you for following along, in spite of whatever I am, whatever this is. I feel like I know each of you as individuals, at least those of you who respond to me with likes or comments or reblogs, so I wonder sometimes if you’re out there shaking your heads and thinking, “what a mess.”
Yes. Yes, I am. 
When my brain is disorganized, so is my house, so I feel like you’re the friends who ring my doorbell and I invite right in, saying, “Watch it—don’t trip over those shoes,” as I clear a spot at the kitchen table for tea. You watch me stack one thing on top of another, emptying the pantry onto the table as I search for that peppermint tea I know you like, that —damn it, where IS it? oh, wait, there—but you’re patient and eventually, you get a mug of something.
And I sit down beside you, and whew. It helps to see you smiling at me.
xo, Scarlet

My Scattered Mind

With apologies to my followers:

I never really know what I’m doing here. What happens is that I wake up (in the morning, after sleeping, or suddenly my mind awakens, after working, or I’m on a walk, and my brain sits upright all at once) and I realize there’s something I want to (need to/have to) say.

So I scurry (or wander or trip over) to my laptop, and write down the words that are plinking against the inside of my head. And then all at once every photo I see here becomes pertinent, and things feel kind of theme-ish. At least to me.

But some days (like today), I am everywhere at once. I am up and down and back and forth and I reblog things and then another thing and I think my mind is settling down to something but then no no no it isn’t.

So this is just my thank you for following along, in spite of whatever I am, whatever this is. I feel like I know each of you as individuals, at least those of you who respond to me with likes or comments or reblogs, so I wonder sometimes if you’re out there shaking your heads and thinking, “what a mess.”

Yes. Yes, I am. 

When my brain is disorganized, so is my house, so I feel like you’re the friends who ring my doorbell and I invite right in, saying, “Watch it—don’t trip over those shoes,” as I clear a spot at the kitchen table for tea. You watch me stack one thing on top of another, emptying the pantry onto the table as I search for that peppermint tea I know you like, that —damn it, where IS it? oh, wait, there—but you’re patient and eventually, you get a mug of something.

And I sit down beside you, and whew. It helps to see you smiling at me.

xo, Scarlet

Broom Cleansing Spell

pisceswitch:

image

  1. Use and broom to sweep the dust from the west to the east.
  2. Burn the dust and toss the ashes outside.
  3. Complete the ritual by mopping the floors with a magical floor wash and follow by a protective incense fumigation.

via Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells

I must do this!

(via kitchen-in-the-cottage)

goddesswithinyou:

“Our bodies have five senses: touch, smell, taste, sight, hearing. But not to be overlooked are the senses of our souls: intuition, peace, foresight, trust, empathy. The differences between people lie in their use of these senses; most people don’t know anything about the inner senses while a few people rely on them just as they rely on their physical senses, and in fact probably even more.”~ C. JoyBell C.

goddesswithinyou:

“Our bodies have five senses: touch, smell, taste, sight, hearing. But not to be overlooked are the senses of our souls: intuition, peace, foresight, trust, empathy. The differences between people lie in their use of these senses; most people don’t know anything about the inner senses while a few people rely on them just as they rely on their physical senses, and in fact probably even more.”

~ C. JoyBell C.