Why is self-sacrifice sexy? Incestuous fantasy, daydream of abuse, a hero’s journey – those are some crazy connections, I think to myself while reading a summary of the psychoanalytic view on masochism. There are many wild ideas about why people are attracted to sadomasochism, and the truth is that no one really knows, but one thing is for sure: it happens mainly in the head, in the dream-like narratives that play out between the conscious and the subconscious. Bodies bound, skins impacted, nipples clamped, and orders uttered. They are all trip-wires into the mind, or perhaps even soul. In sadomasochistic play, both parties participate in a shared belief that elevates mechanical sex into a mythical expression of eros.

Many esoteric practices may differ in methodology, but they share fundamental similarities that make them compatible. Of course some people enjoy spanking simply the feeling of palm against buttock and intercourse primarily to procreate. But my experience has shown that most people are fascinated by the journey and the deeper meaning it holds. And the questions it awakens us about our eros are; What does it mean, what is the meaning, and why it feels meaningful. Sadomasochism offers the answers with pain, pleasure, exhibitionism, voyeurism, control and surrender.

It is a controlled exploration of taboos that is both safe and brave simultaneously. Most people don’t really want to hurt or get hurt, and consent is crucial to maintaining control. That line in the sand is what separates sadomasochism from abusive and self-destructive behaviour, as Sigmund Freud himself acknowledged. In his essay, The Economic Problem of Masochism (1924), Freud distinguishes between conscious erotogenic masochism and pathological masochism, which is not a conscious choice.

The Masochistic Stories Of Eros

I am a big believer in the importance of the fantasies we weave for ourselves. My focus lies in exploring the stories that our eros tells and the deeper meaning that they hold. Details and chronology are hard to piece together in the stories we tell about our shared experiences. Life is always new and fresh for the conscious mind, and dynamic interaction continuously fosters co-creation. Yet to the subconscious, what we do together speaks a symbolic language as old as time. I’ve seen thousands of people claiming to know nothing about the subconscious and yet in retreats and festivals be able to get immediately in connection with something far deeper than their everyday minds. To consciously be aware of these more mysterious aspects of our eros is essential because we are losing the symbolic relationship with the world, increasingly becoming more fractured beings expressed in their 280-character-long Twitter truths.

In the essay Beating Fantasies and Daydreams (1922), Sigmund Freud’s daughter Anna wrote about common sadomasochistic fantasies of the subconscious. They usually involve a process wherein someone is being ‘forced’ into submission but ultimately filled with pleasure and excitement through it. How exciting to be given this thrilling path in a world overwhelmed by dullness and sameness. I might add that this reflects a longing for belonging.

As a kid, we would play a game called the ‘Vita Stenen’, where we challenged each other with dangerous but exciting dares to temporarily claim the ownership of a white stone. The symbol of power. The girls hunted the boys, capturing and kissing us to spread the girl flu. My kindergarten teacher would tease us with ‘efter bråk blir det barnbidrag’, roughly translating to ‘after fighting, there will be birth’. Years later, someone would be locked in a closet, pretending to be the mailman delivering hugs, kisses and handshakes to random victims in a ritualised game. After growing up, we would find that life had transitioned from a colourful fantasy world full of potential into a grey, harsh reality.

These were and still are controlled fantasies of danger and excitement. As kids, the play was innocent. In the daydream, the dreamer plays all the roles simultaneously. In a sadomasochistic play, the surrounding frame is consent, which makes it safer. Anna Freud described these beating fantasies in her psychoanalysis as disciplinary school institutions, knights and princesses captured and tortured, adoption by evil step-parents, etc. There are tons of shame and taboos around eroticizing such fantasies, even as adults interact with other adults.

Stepping Away From Danger

The stories of our eros are retold in movies, books and theatres, actually, in every single artistic expression you can think of like art, sculpture, music, dance, pottery. The erotic element is transformed into general excitement, and the story is acted out by someone else, with us safely in the audience. Most of the time, it is some variation of a hero’s journey. The protagonist temporarily loses control of all sorts of hardships but eventually wins through some insight, endurance, or transformation. The end is the climax.

There is a vast longing to reclaim the stories of our eros, which started as innocent games, turned into taboo daydreams, and finally ended up as safe heroes’ journeys on the silver screen. It is a thing of profound beauty to allow sadomasochistic play to operate on several levels at once, from the personal to the symbolic, weaving and connecting our common taboo fantasies in a way that both transgresses and embraces the personal.

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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!

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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.