Submission Is Solar, Dominance Lunar, and the Light of the World Shuts the Black Hole

Orshee: Yesterday, writing in my journal - and before realizing it was the solstice that day - I followed a long stony trail of logic to arrive at the thought that submission is solar. I wrote, writing to the Netta figure (from this dream): "Her process is fueled by mine, my love moves her in beauty through all directions of time, I am the center - I am a sun. I am a center, but she is also a center. She gives moonlight as my orbiter. By restraining me, she restores me to myself."

My thought that submission is solar leads then to that the other – domination -- is lunar.

And the root I keep coming back to is Reflective. By this I mean that if submission is about aligning with self through giving, being the gift, a solar act – the dominant partner, rather than giving of herself, would act as a reflection of what the sub needs, or act as a reflection of the sub's unconscious. It seems to me that the sub would indeed be the center of the dynamic, and the domme is the pretend center of attention, because she’s really about the sub.

Yet I've heard girls talk about playing domme to work out their own issues, and of course both roles are gifts in a sense.

A corollary of this is the unsettling thought that, if submission is solar, is there a facet of submission that is self-consuming – like the sun becoming a black hole?

Amy: Sure, but the sun is only one element with a whole universe to give it balance. Suddenly becoming the fully-embodied soul whom you were in the Netta dream would be self-consuming. In practice, we always have time to integrate these things. Playing the submissive role from the dream in waking-life would consume some identity, some ego; and then you & your partner would call it a day or night, and you would process it; acting in a lunar mode toward your own sun-self.

I see an amazing parallel between your unsettled feeling and what I endured as I first identified as female; submitting my entire being to a wholly other being in self-consuming light. The result was a crazy out-of-control figure wanting to snatch my body away from me. When this was happening I was lost in light, and oblivious to my water aspect, which is even in my/her name: Pillowwater, flowing eternally. There’s no possibility for self-consumption on the river. You just keep flowing endlessly from one place to the next. But standing nude in the light of pure consciousness is annihilating. We take breaks from it. We assert our observing ego and cool the heat, and shade the light, with perspective, with the waters of earthly consciousness. Light is rather divine consciousness. Zeus warned people not to look at him.

In our lifetimes, we are like water in that as infants we melt into awareness at the top of the mountain, and through our lives we run out to the sea. Then we die and evaporate into Heaven, and then snow back down onto tender peaks in a new life.

I was thinking about the solar principle as self-consuming; seeing the end result of self-consumption as a black hole. If the masculine is phallic and solar, then my male self disappeared into a vulvic black hole, balancing my former, phallic nature.

Orshee: I read once -- I think in The Seven Mysteries of Life, an awesome massive science book -- that black holes actually emit matter/energy too. For everything it consumes it emits some equivalent particle, something like that.

Amy: This adds to my thesis. Also, maybe it could add more comfort to your fear of the solar being self-consuming.

Orshee: I guess it's comforting, in the sense that death is comforting.

Amy: What?! Isn’t Death a positive card in the Tarot?

Orshee: It is, although I meant that the part of me that's afraid of the self-consumption is the same that's afraid of death.

Amy: Say, each of our lives is a sun with a finite amount of light to give before we become black holes that disappear, in death. My sense is that we are reborn into light that we gave as suns, and we did not become the hole (so scratch what I said about my phallic male self becoming a vulvic black hole). The black hole is not us: it’s our absence in the world; it is the absence we feel when a person dies, and even that fades with time. Eventually, we all die and are reborn into the new world that we started with our light from the old world, and the black holes are all gone.

Or take Jesus, the light of the world that men tried to snuff out: the light he emitted still lives today – in my countenance even. The black hole he left behind is still around, too, in the minds of the religious. But the theory would go that someday the black hole he left behind would vanish and he would step back into the world of light he left behind. I have dreamed him with Rose Mary in the future.

On Monday, Wednesday and Friday updates are posted to Amy George’s other blog Ask the Dream Queen, for which she interprets reader-submitted dreams.