I work at My desk, and My eyes are glued to My work, as I listen to your confession. I dont look up from My work, I dont get tense visibly to you. I give you that very impression, that you are a radio, playing a song I may have heard before. I listen very closely to the words you say, but I do not validate your anguish by looking up to you or giving away I actually do listen.
I let you do all the talking, sniffling and crying, knowing that you are standing a few feet away from both tables, the one with restrains to My left (and your right) being even a little further away from you. I know how much you detest and fear that table, even if it is much less massive than My work desk, but its metal rings for the restraints speak in such a loud volume about inevitable painful punishment, where as the work desk, can be just that: furniture to work at
Right now, it is used for that very purpose, and yet you feel the sting of punishment. You came to confess, but you also came to cleanse your slate. And you came for recognition. Recognition of your failing. Recognition of your feelings, Recognition of what you had done or didnt do. Recognition of your story. But also recognition of how you were trying and how maybe this isnt just about being bad.
And now that desk, that wooden monument, over which your body has been bent over for discipline, correction and education many times over, that very desk that doesnt just harbour pens and pencils and other stationary utensils: letters, envelopes, paper pads, the lap top and tablet, the telephone, as well as the sealing equipment you have been made acquaintance with before, the report card forms, it thrones before you, unsurmountable like a fortress. You also are very well aware there is this one drawer, in My desk, under neath the little table for a snack, that tablet like drawer, and the one with the stationary equipment. That third drawer from the top.
That third drawer from the top, still above the files drawer at the bottom. To My left, closer to that dreaded table with the restraint over there. That third drawer, that harbors the rulers and a few, handy paddles, as well as one rolled up leather belt. You know that slightly shrieking swoosh that third drawer from the top makes, that unique sound, peculiar and if it were not opened for such sinister reasons, maybe even slightly amusing. But it is the third drawer from the top, the one where the bars of soap live, and the icy hot, the tiger balm, the thermometer, the vaseline, the medical gloves and the dried rice and dried peas, as well as the sealing equipment in its rosewood little chest.
Oh dont you know that third drawer from the top, and that is where your eyes stare into nothingness, every time you do dare lifting them from your feet. Oh #SpankieMonster is very aware, how you are even avoiding reading My bodylanguage, young lady. How every thought beyond the very moment sends shivers down your spine and erupts cramps in your tummy, of apprehension and that deep rooted wish to be anywhere but here and anytime but now.
I let you stand there, finishing My work. I dont speak a word. I dont give you any recognition for all of the minutes that are endless now. They dont fly by using the inernet or texting with freinds. They dont go unnoticed not one single of them. They are felt with all the heaviness they could possibly muster. All those minutes you had recklessly pushed your bedtime, like it was your choice. They drag their leaded feet in that desserted space, that is not even the comfy corner.
Yes, the corner would be horrible, but it would also be a recognition of your failing. While it is intimidating and dull, and making you feel vulnerable with your backside exposed to whatever may come, it also keeps your vital front side very protected. It allows you to focus and forces you to look ahead, or close your eyes and be present in the moment. That dreaded yet useful corner, with its dullness still would be so much better than standing here, with no cover, no-where to run and your face exposed with its every expression. It will like a traitor give away your true state of intimidation, discomfort or any left over defiance or arrogance. It will be like a work-sheet presentation producing all the data #SpankieMonster might need, without you even saying a word.
There is no corner to cradle your facial expressions, now that you stand exposed, in the middle of the Study, you stand like on a platter, before Me sitting behind My desk, My lap top screen, with My books and My note book and pad, and pens. I am seemingly sunk into My work using all those things that you had deemed more important than My rules and guidelines created and maintained to help you being well. The kindle, the cell phone, the social media now seem to have all My attention, while you stand there, exposed, tensed up, feeling the full weight of the time tab you had run up.
Now that the time has finally expired, now that you have been made to be still – even though admittedly not as comfortable as a bed would have been, we are ready to move on. Your defiance toward being comfy for the designated rest up time, on a soft, warm bed with blankets, pillows and sheets, possibly all your stuffed animal friends you had exchanged by your very failing to meet the bed time for this, much stricter rest up time. Maybe when presented with your bedtime you will start seeing it like the privilege it is and not like some punishment, since you have a better comparison now. To make sure you feel the discomfort you had brought upon yourself you are about to learn a lesson and learn it thoroughly you will.
I look up over My glasses. I look at you, young lady. My eyes are like diamond-covered drills that will not take any resistance from you. I clear My voice and it is thunder to your ears. I lift My left hand use My arm to rest My heavy head on it, the hand playing with My short beard, like I am sunken in a dream.
I start the lecture, to you, My girl and explain to you how much your well being means to Me. I let you know how much attentiveness, care and wisdom goes into the making and maintaining of the rules I am giving you to help you keeping yourself safe, and more to empower you to become successful in your life. I take all the time, and use the lengthy lecture to remind you that I dont do this as a pass time or to get my jollies out, but that I am in fact investing energy, time and effort into your well being, because I respect you very much more, than you do yourself, when you allow yourself to deviate from the path laid out for you.
I remind you with very choice words, that I have weighed carefully as so they convey exactly My sentiment and do not cause any undue harm, words selected to provide you with guidance and structure and help you shape the thoughts as well as resonate with those very emotions that are going to ease your betterment and enduce your (self) improvement in the future long after everything we have to deal with at this time is said and done. I let you know about that structure that now seems like binding and taking away some freedom but isnt nothing different than a safety rope, a parachute or seat-belt – and that the little discomfort will pass once you get used to their existance – but how much they will be a saving grace in case of challenge and adversity.
I am speaking calmly , and I need not raise My voice other but to emphasize the key words I want to be stuck with you after this lecture is over. I dont just deliver a speech. I also conjvey to you how your short coming is not just your personal problem. We are in this together. I have taken you under My wings, and am not just some coach at the side line, more so I am the warrior helping you with the fight in the war zone. I am on the battle ground with you, getting dirty, and your short-comings arent just painful and potentially crippling to you, it pains Me to see you suffer needlessly, when the cure to whatever tripedation you are fighting is at arms reach. Every time you ignore My guidelines, My guidance and are in defiance with My genuine love, care and attention, you are not just putting yourself in harms way, but at the same time one of My protected ones. And I will not be standing idly by, when you harm one of Mine.
I lean back into My heavy office leather chair, but My lips do not smile. My hand in that same maze of a dream like state grabs the pull handle of the third drawer from the top and slides it open, with that slightly shrieky swoosh the thing makes. That peculiar almost amusing estranged sound that now resembles more a sirene. That has you alert and tensed up, even trembling. Had you wished to be elsewhere before you are praying the earth would swallow you whole about right now, but evidently earth wont do you that favor.
My left hand dives into the drawer and produces 4 implements all of which you are not fond of. I walk over the few steps to that less massive, more dreaded punishment table, and arrange it, setting the table and mood for the thorough repentance to come.
(to be continued)
#SpankieMonster #StrictMotivation (c)2017 StrictMotivation@yahoo.com