There is nothing quite like having an axe hanging over your head. Nothing quite like facing the possibility, no matter how small the probability, that you may be looking your own death square in the face.

Now, I know that this particular axe is suspended from some serious rope and I know that in all likelihood they will move me out from under the axe. But you know what? It’s still a nauseating feeling. I just feel fucking sick.  It’s funny for someone who thrives on power exchange, I’m not really liking being out of control.  Yeah, I know, it’s not the same.

It’s not to often one gets to take a more objective look at oneself either. Tonight, walking the dogs and watching them play I thought about what defines me, who am I. I am probably first and foremost defined by being a parent. After that though I would say my animals define me. They make me smile and I feel connected to them.  They fill my soul with a light that is unique. I understand them. 

There is nothing quite like facing your own mortality to make you stop and think.