Or when does sadomasochism become destructive? I often face this question about my work. It’s a question which hangs in the air, sometimes as a faint echo of an odour, other times thick as a syrupy fog. It’s something I ask of myself often enough too, after a session perhaps, wondering whether it or even me myself were really ‘good’.  There are several ways to approach answering this crucial question. The worlds of consent, addiction and esoterica each offer pathways to answer this question. I wish here to break these three answers down and then submit another option.

The answer from the world of consent would be something along the lines of: ‘whatever happens between two consenting adults is okay.’ There are two issues with the consent answer. Firstly, the word ‘adult’. What kind of definitive age limits are we talking about here? In order to have an understanding of eros and its consequences, one needs to experience its different aspects, like falling madly in love, having a one-night stand, having a stable relationship, finding a lover, getting burnt, letting go of regrets and jealousies, etc. This is because the emotional journey into sadomasochistic play works with such deep fundamental inner workings of what it means to be human (for example the longing to belong, ego exposure to shame and offering the self to devotion that we have discussed in previous chapters). Sadly some people never get to experience this in their lives (or don’t even want to go there). Does that mean they are excluded from sadomasochistic play and esoteric eroticism? Obviously not, but at the same time, it’s essential to know that it hinders them from predicting and evaluating what is good for them.

Life is Learnt

What about younger people who haven’t time to have the experience yet, but probably will get there one day? I read in a wide variety of sources that an adult’s awareness of consequences takes about twenty-five years to fully develop.

Just for a moment, let’s jump over to the flip side of this issue. Personally, I discovered my sadomasochistic desires in my teens, so what was I supposed to do – ideally – back then? Know that I should wait another ten years until I had properly experienced and deeply processed an ever-deepening series of love- and relationship-related life events before beginning to pursue these interests? Or before I let someone who might not be responsible touch me? Furthermore, what of the irresponsible adults out there who drool over innocent flesh? In the best case, they will not wait to satisfy their hunger, and in the worst case, they will traumatise a teenager for life. Yet again, on the other hand, I did many stupid things growing up, and I still survived. Maybe I even learned and grew as a result of these ‘mistakes’. To do the things, regret them, get over the regret and expand my understanding. The one thing I can do as a responsible adult is to be extra careful when playing with people under the age of about twenty-five, more we’ll look at this in the next chapter.

The second problem with the ‘whatever two consenting adults decide together is okay’ line of thought is with the ‘whatever’ bit. Do we really mean ‘whatever’? Or is there actually a hidden spectrum and some kind of red line? We need to be honest with ourselves. Some people involve illegal recreational drugs in their play. Yet others, tools and techniques that might leave physical and emotional scars that last a lifetime. Are we ok with any kind of whatever? Similarly to the argument about who is allowed to participate in sadomasochistic play, it comes down to balancing risk. Also, this is covered in more depth in the coming chapter.

Everything Is Addiction

An alternative to the consent answer is the addiction answer that pretty much states: ‘whatever isn’t causing addiction is okay’. Well, I depend on many things, including basic needs like air, food, sleep, and social interactions. Some would even claim that I’m dependent on meaningfulness. So when does dependency become an addiction? Focusing on the cause makes evaluating it easier.

Addiction is a normal response to an abnormal circumstance.

Gabor Maté 

But are coping mechanisms enough to prevent sadomasochism from being destructive? Is needing coffee to get up in the morning harmful? I believe life is complicated enough that we need a few coping mechanisms. Many people use sadomasochistic play as a mindfulness practice to deal with stress or an adrenaline rush from boredom, as a spark of excitement when life feels meaningless and grey. Understanding one’s addictions and coping mechanisms are invaluable in understanding oneself. If one notices that they slowly take up more and more space and prevent living everyday life, like having a job, completing studies, maintaining friendships, and so on, then it’s time to worry, no matter if it’s sadomasochism, alcohol, or computer gaming.

The third answer, from the world of esoterica: ‘When it disrupts life’s natural drive towards creation’. Relating to addiction and coping mechanisms as well as consent and abuse is part of the human experience, and what matters in the end is how you contributed to life’s creation. Independently if your practice is sadomasochistic or not. This works both ways – when evaluating one’s action towards oneself, in the sense of self-destructive behaviour, and relationship with others, in the case of abusive or other destructive behaviour. Is play creative or destructive? That is a tricky question because it’s so subjective. One way of getting to the truth has always been through self inquiry. One may ask oneself: ‘Does it serve in the creation of life? Is it fair to myself, the people I care about, and our environment?’ And what if it doesn’t – most people are already happily wasting much of their life away anyway. Doing useless things is part of being human. 

What Comes Up Must Come Down

As a final option, I would like to propose an alternative answer to this question of whether or not sadomasochism is destructive, and that’s one from what I would call the bodyworker’s point of view. I could call destructive cases where the body had not been allowed enough time to heal between two sessions, for example, where bruises were formed atop each other or when physical pain lingered. 

One could assess if there had been sufficient healing time on for the emotional body as well as the physical. Has the nervous system had enough time to land, integrate, process? Has the soul had time to settle? This expands the territory before attempting to place a ‘destructive’ stamp on a sadomasochistic play experience. There are many factors to consider, and asking oneself such helpful questions is one way to stay on course.

I remember bringing a submissive partner to a ritual, she was to wear a fully covering black tailored leather hood blocking out all sight, muffling most sound, and preventing her from speaking. Otherwise she was fully naked, underneath an open fur coat, in a cold mansion cellar with around fifty strangers. Desperately clinging to my arm for the evening, while others sipped fine wine and conversed casually. Her heart raced, and my empathy followed along. We left that night early, both exhausted from the intensity. At home, we floated away into surrealistic dreams after a long steamy bath. The next morning was euphoric, as our nervous systems balanced back towards ordinary. Would we do it again, maybe in five years, we agreed before parting.

Growth Pains

I feel safest in sadomasochistic play when engaged with people who have suffered hardships and come through them successfully. These people tend to understand mental and physical pain, and also how to resolve them. A number of people I met over the years had developed addictions as coping mechanisms to deal with trauma. For example, some experienced sexual abuse by caregivers, which lead to drug use in their early teens, and others, bullied at school, resorted to self-harm as a way of coping with emotional stress. However, these individuals eventually emerged from their struggles and often by happenstance found sadomasochistic play. Unlike drugs and knives, sadomasochistic play is conscious, consensual and empowering, creating intimacy. For those survivors of addiction and self-harm, knives and drugs will always be there, tempting them with their temporary, illusory solutions. Sadomasochism can be fundamentally different, they say. It brings me a sense of safety to play with those who have experienced such rough times. To deeply feel the good one must have gone through the bad.

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

“Gianina”

This book changed my life. A collection of Andy’s reflections, instruction, photography diaries, stories and lived experiences, it’s a patchwork quilt masterpiece constructed with beautiful, calm, honest prose – yet sharp and questioning, on the paradoxes one encounters in sadomasochistic practice but may not have interrogated fully before. Also his teaching manifesto, complete with practical steps for his core rituals.

To me, Rituals & Paradoxes is the very essence of Andy’s teaching but also a gift; upon reading personally, it changed my life by not only giving me the language and conceptual framework to reorientate and redefine my own expression of sexuality and sadomasochistic practice, but also through gifting me a new view of this world through Andy’s eyes. For a long time I felt like I had hit a barrier in my play. I now realise I was stuck in modalities. Now I know what I want, that it’s ok for desires and practices to contradict themselves, that paradoxes are welcome and navigating them is all part of the fun. Besides, Andy’s lens on it all invites you to share in an artist’s heart.

Buy this book if you’ve found yourself questioning ‘why’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ in your play and partner relationships. If you’ve found yourself falling through these paradoxes Andy examines. Whether you’ve completed a ritual of his before or not, discover these same rituals, or their variations, within different contexts. Regardless, buy this book for the beauty overflowing from its pages; the ache of emotion, the rapture of pleasure and the luscious nature of pain. It’s all here, in your very hands.

“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.