At one esoteric festival, we sit in a big circle. Someone holding the microphone shouts.

Who is the most crucial person here?

Me! Me! Me!

The crowd responds in unison. Another memory: I’m observing a ritual from behind my mask. I see intimate couples in THEIR invisible bubbles fulfilling THEIR desires. Earlier at the opening of the same ritual, an inquiry is given: What do YOU want tonight? What are your dreams?

It happens often in the course of a festival that someone will ask me, “How are you doing?” I often feel perplexed at that. I’m not hungry, I slept well, and I have no pain in my body. I just don’t care that much about myself in those environments because I’m more curious about what the group can become together and how I can contribute to that.

Many individual dreams are being expressed and explored, but ultimately, I believe we all share a single dream: to be a part of a tribe and let go of the control that our ego-focused, hierarchical society is pushing upon us. So I get confused in these kinds of situations: why is the focus still so individualistic? I remember a time, ten years ago, when I felt there was less of a ‘me, me, me’ mentality in spiritual circles. I remember standing in an ending ceremony and screaming: “We are love! We are LOVE! WE ARE LOVE!”

How To Practically Join The ‘We’

Something was different back then. It was more ‘we’ and less ‘me’. I think it may be due to the current state of crisis we find ourselves in, with pandemics, economic collapse, political polarisation, and global warming. There is a feeling that now we have to take care of ourselves to survive, but that this is not what people need to feel truly alive. People need to learn how to care for their needs while also focusing on the tribe, because participating in something larger than the small me is where true pleasure and meaning is found.

To join the ‘we’ in a ritual, it’s not enough to just be there physically. One must shift their focus away from the individual self, first towards a partner, and eventually towards the shared space of the group. But how to interact with what is happening outside the intimate bubble with my partner? How can I initiate or support what is happening on a group level?

This can be hugely challenging because people who are focused on themselves do not want to be pulled into a ‘we’ because they are busy ensuring their own experience. It’s a catch-22: for the group to come together, enough people must be willing to shift their focus together into a ‘we’. But for this to happen, people need to develop the skills and intimacy to interact with a wide variety of people.

The We Is Scary For Good Reasons

When talking about this with a stranger in my sauna club, he said it all sounded very flower-power hippie to abandon the ‘me’ for the ‘we’, almost like a religious cult. I can understand the general fear of leaving the ‘me’ because it has gone wrong in the past when tried on a large scale. Just look at fascism and communism. But maybe it could work on a small scale. My theatre teacher taught me that ensemble life is different from everyday life. It’s collective, and the story is always in focus. During the second year of my studies, I went to a village in Tanzania’s poor and religious countryside. I was to teach an acting methodology without words, and I encountered a place where God comes first. Second is the village elders, followed by the parents and older siblings. If there was any time left, we would play football.

I remember reading a book about a young girl growing up in a religious cult. When she was kidnapped away from her church (or should I say rescued), she first needed to re-learn that she had her own feelings. Before, she thought emotions were only something communal – If the group was happy, then she must be satisfied. And if the group was sad, then she was unhappy. So I can see how it can go horribly wrong on smaller scales as well. Nowadays, I feel that many events I attend are on the opposite extreme where it is only about me, me, me. And maybe I’m crazy, but ME alone gets pretty dull in sexual and creative spheres; it’s a bit like masturbating. If I am co-creating with only one other person, it’s like having a lover in the invisible bubble I mentioned before. But something more significant is reaching for the ‘we’ outside that bubble. Like, watching intensely and mirroring someone else’s movements, leading a stranger in a new direction with the touch of a fingertip, lending a skilled hand in an interaction, or moving a piece of furniture around to change the room. But none of it works if it comes from a greedy me, me, me because the ‘me’ scares people in the ‘we’ – just like the other way around.

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Standard Edition. Paperback. 499 pages.


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80Mb 7-day digital download. 499 pages.

It took forever, but my book is finally available—either as a printed paperback or a downloadable PDF. Watch the trailer on the left!

Dear unknown friend, to access the adult-rated material you must create a free account and log in. This is due to social media and their algorithms. Sorry for the inconvenience.

FIRST PARADOX

BEING AND DOING

SECOND PARADOX

SELF-SACRIFICE

AND SELFISHNESS

THIRD PARADOX

SELFISHNESS AND

HOLDING SPACE

FOURTH PARADOX

UNITY AND POLARITY

FIFTH PARADOX

SYMBOLS AND REALITY

FIRST RITUAL

SUBMISSION

SECOND RITUAL

DEVOTION

THIRD RITUAL

REJECTION

FOURTH RITUAL

DESIRE

FIFTH RITUAL

DEATH

“M”

Rituals and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism by Andy Buru.

“Take my hand, follow me, be not scared, I got you”

“You do not need another guru, do not follow the man with a beard”- the words echoe in my mind when I start reading “Ritual and paradoxes- the intimacy of belonging in sadomasochism and esoteric eroticism” by Andy Buru, professional Japanese rope bondage practionner/teacher: besides almost being named guru, he indubitably takes a position of authority by publishing himself, and considering the subject matter and that I do in fact have some first hand experience of Andy (double-entendre intended) – should I not be a bit scared and keep distance?

Drawing from his extensive experience as teacher, body worker and personal life, Andy approaches the subject through a set of paradoxes that are defining sadomasochism, or “eroticization of pain and power”. These paradoxes create polarities which sadomasochism explores through careful and compassionate play with the inherent tensions that varies between individuals and the power dynamics of ”dominant/submissive”. The resulting book, a solid block of nearly 500 pages, reaches however far beyond an introduction into bdsm, a guidebook, or a collection of personal reflections.

Instead, the aim is to bring attention on esoteric qualities of sadomasochism, as in the ritualization of sexuality towards enlightenment or union with God/Divine. Sadomasochism, with its inherent polarities, has according to the author a high potentiality to address deeper needs usually associated with spirituality, such as belonging, submission, self-sacrifice, and devotion, which according to the narrative are not promoted in our pleasure-seeking western societies (“joy joy lala land”) that mostly focus on achievement and selfishness, on “doing”. The sadomasochism that Andy presents and cultivates provide thus as a contrast a safe playground to discover or further dive into meaningful and transformational states of being.

So what am I holding in my hands? First of all I cannot hinder to be seduced by the format and structure. After all, the presentation is significant when your topic is rituals, and the writing project in itself is introduced as mystic for the author: a compact volume beautifully segmented all in black and white by the paradoxes that define sadomasochism, visually chaptering the thought in numbered lemmas/verses, accompanying poetic lines followed by a clear, straightforward prose, occasionally punctuated by Andy Buru’s warm humour, at the rhythm of sneak peaks into his very intimate (at times thick and sick) diary. Abstract concepts are both cleverly illustrated and made tangible through illustrations and a selection of tastefully curated photographies taken by the author himself during his sessions, seducing with their raw beauty and display authentic vulnerability.

“Rituals and Paradoxes” is a companion to anyone’s own paths of self-/collective exploration- practical or intellectual. Andy Buru acts as a Virgilius, not taking down seven levels of hell as one might associate sadomasochism to, but truly accompanying the reader on a journey. His written edifice is a temple where the dark meanders of eros find light and love, in which the paradoxes are pillars and a room for rituals are formed/performed, and where the self is absorbed in the community. Pushing the comparison further, one might find that the fragments of experience that Andy Buru shares, at moment heavy and intense as incense, are counterparts of the vibrant paintings hanging in the side-choirs of a baroque church. (The dramatic lives of saints and martyrs, full of suffering and self-sacrifice, are after all early tangents to the world of bdsm).

The Reading of “Rituals and Paradoxes” could be an invitation into a sacred place with many shrines and as such be decisive or it may stay at the level of a mere tour, an exotic sight-seeing of deviancy and perversion, depending on maturity and receptiveness of the reader. One anecdote from the book (or should I qualify it as a votive picture in adoration for the Japanese culture and to which the author is so indebted?) may provide some evidence of the author’s expectations on the reader: a flower arrangement school in Japan, where everyone gets the degree, but you would, by paying proper attention, be aware of if you actually got to the deeper sense or not.

I think that the strength of the book comes from this sensible approach, where the mystery, despite being unfold for us and made available in words, by the end of the day needs to be “felt” as well, or to paraphrase the first paradox, “to be”. Regardless of your previous experience in bdsm or more generally within sex, or your degree of self-knowledge, the book has nonetheless something essential to offer as an invitation to discover or further explore the vast inner universe that is yourself and your sexuality, but also, by making you sensible to the esoteric dimensions involved in bdsm and thus to elevate your practice to a profoundly metaphysical act.

Yes, Andy, maybe I will take your hand, and follow you, I am not scared, you got me.