The ritual of death is about celebrating life. One day we will all die; that’s the one thing to be sure about, so the fundamental question becomes, what do you do with your life before death? If we will someday (sooner than we think) be asked to give up everything that we are and know, what in the realm of being and doing do we value above all else that we’d wish to fill our last hours of existence with? This ritual invites the participants into a dream-like world with several symbolic landmarks. Fate decides how long they may stay and with whom on this journey, just like in everyday life, and it’s up to them to find meaning in these encounters. We are invited to do this in more intimate situations in sadomasochistic play, and so this ritual is a poignant preparation for that. We are constantly being invited to bring meaning into our everyday lives, and nothing brings meaning into better focus than death.

Preparations

Careful preparation of the space is vital in this ritual. First, I place mattresses in a spiral shape from the room’s entrance towards the centre. It serves two purposes; it acts as a guided path when the participants enter, filling the room with a sense of mystique because a geometrical structure is more comprehensible than the seemingly random chaos of everyday life. The world is filled with hidden patterns, but while the human brain is adept at recognising them, something strikes us as awe-inspiring when it is apparent and obvious, like the pyramids in their god-like grandeur.

At the spiral’s centre is the altar, and its beauty contrasts with the simplicity of the rest of the room. The altar should contain items that can be removed, for example, to be gifted or stolen, like the Eden apple, flowers or fabrics, and space for things to be added in sacrifice or letting go. The second landmark is the mirror with a chair in front of it. It’s a place to see oneself in loneliness or with others reflected in the symbolic landscape. Preferably the mirror should be full body sized with an ornate frame. The chair mustn’t be like a throne, which may introduce a sense of unwanted hierarchy in the room. 

The third landmark is the writing station; as the ritual is a non-verbal space, the participants can write paper notes to themselves and others. I always try to find beautiful handmade paper and raw charcoal for drawing and writing. The care for materials encourages the participants to place extra effort into their communication, as their words will waste a valuable resource. Besides the three landmarks (altar, mirror, and paper), I put a few chairs and meditation pillows around the room to provide comfortable resting places. Finally, at the room’s entrance, I place two chairs for the guardian angels, which will help me ensure that people enter in silence and leave in peace, but more about this later.

Numbers play an important role in the ritual of death. Each participant must be assigned one and I’ll explain more later how they will be used. As entering the ritual space is a formal stage of its own, I hand out the numbers beforehand, either when people are waiting to enter or at a morning gathering. By the time people enter the ritual, they have their number with them. I’ve even tried to send them out ahead of time in sealed envelopes. It’s essential not to spoil what the numbers will be used for, so instead, I give a vague description like “Remember this number as if your life depended on it.” and “Make sure that you bring this to the ritual tonight.”. At the same time, I tell the participants that they will need to always carry around anything they bring to the ritual (clothes, water bottles, bags), so as to avoid unnecessary stuff.

The minimum number of participants is somewhere around twenty. When there are fewer than a hundred participants, I will have pre-prepared a few extra numbers, just to be on the safe side, in case extra people arrive at the last minute (in which case they receive their numbers before entering the ritual space). For example, if 45 numbers had already been distributed, I will prepare an extra, say, five numbers (ready to be distributed at the last moment if needed) and mark down 50 numbers on my personal list. When I know that there will be more than a hundred participants, I will have made two sets of numbers up to one hundred and distributed those sets. This is because I know that I cannot, for example, have enough time to read out 200 numbers in two hours. This way, sometimes it happens that two persons will have the same number and leave at the same time, and also sometimes a number is called which no one has. Each time I call out a number, I cross it off on my god-master list.

Entering is the transmutation from one world to another. I allow people to enter one by one and, as in meditation, follow the spiralling mattresses towards the altar in the middle. I instruct them to walk slowly with awareness of how their balance shifts from foot to foot. Ignore the people around you, I remind them. Once the first person reaches the altar in the middle, they sit down, and the next person sits beside them. This keeps going until the entire space is filled with people. Hopefully, all participants will fit sitting in a spiral formation, but if they don’t, I allow for the rest to spread out in the room.

This stage brings the symbolism of the spiral to life with human flesh. Life spiralling towards an end point. As the ritual is slow and wordless, the goal of this stage is to aid the participants to slow down, ground themselves, shut up and submit to the overall choreography. Anyone breaking the rules while filling up the spiral, such as whispering to their neighbour or trying to make contact while walking, should be told because it makes the group feel unsafe when someone signals that the rules don’t apply to them. 

Once the room is filled and everyone sits silently, I explain the rules.

First Rule: Numbers will be called out randomly during the ritual. When your number is called, you must stand up and leave, say no goodbyes or last wishes and no finishing up. This is why you must carry your things around, as you can’t go and look for them when you are dead. Your ritual may only be five minutes if your number is the first or several hours if you are the last one alive.

Second Rule: No talking. The ritual is a wordless time and space. If you need to communicate, compose a note at the writing station, and deliver it gracefully. This rule may be broken for safety reasons, like expressing a boundary.

Third Rule: You can leave whenever you want to by pretending that the number read is your number. Suppose the ritual is too much or intense for you. If you are simply bored, I would encourage you to stay with your boredom, as it’s also part of life before death.

Fourth Rule: Interaction with others is initiated with the following choreography. Eye contact, hand contact, and body contact – in that order. Never touch anyone before meeting their eyes, and never touch anyone’s body before touching their hands.

Fifth Rule: Make eye contact and give the angels at the door a nod to show that you are okay when leaving the ritual. If you don’t, one of them will follow you out to check in with you.

Within the rules above, you may do anything you want with your last time before death. You may play, dance, meditate, cry or make love. You may meet new people, you may share a goodbye with your loved ones, or you may stay all alone. You decide how your life before death will be.

Once the rules are explained, I’ll play music and observe how life before death unfolds. I’ll divide available numbers with the total time of the ritual and simply pull the numbers one by one from the bowl, read them out using a microphone and cross them off the tracking list.

At this point, there is not much I can do to influence how the ritual unfolds. However, I can alternate the tempo of how I read the numbers, like going faster when little happens—or slowing down when there is a meaningful atmosphere in the room. I can hush people who speak and remind people to leave quickly without saying goodbye. And if the energy gets very intense, I’ll remind the participants about the choreography for making contact and that they can actually leave whenever they want by pretending that a number is theirs.

Sometimes I’ll prearrange some special happenings with musicians, dancers or performers to make an improvised appearance during the ritual. One of the most beautiful moments was when a friend brought her violin and played the theme song from Schindler’s List when only a handful were left alive. Once only one person or number remains, I’ll read that out and let them take their time to say goodbye to the space.

Integration

As there is no communal ending to the ritual, the angels at the door must provide the opportunity to ground when participants leave. I also recommend ensuring that other activities are available once a person dies, like going to the sauna, having a cup of tea, sitting in a meditation circle, or having a cuddle puddle. Just letting people die out on the streets is cruel. Sometimes I also organise a post-mortem the following day to allow the participants to share their experiences. And I also make myself available for feedback in the following days and weeks.

History

I heard about this approach to the subject of death at a festival called Xplore at the beginning of the 2000s. If I recall correctly, a university teacher was educating doctors on how to talk about death, and he created this experiment to run with his students. Unfortunately, this was only mentioned briefly over lunch with many people talking, so I don’t know the background exactly. But the idea stayed with me until I got the urge to develop it into my own ritual in 2022.

40 

Standard Edition. Paperback. 499 pages.


20 

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!

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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.