Surrender is to trust, to let go and to fall — trusting that one will be caught by life, by love, by wonder, by another. Surrendering brings great pleasure when one learns to let go of controlling the body, the emotions, and the ego and devote oneself to something greater. It’s as applicable in lovemaking as well as in life in general. But unfortunately, there is an overvaluation of power in today’s society, and everyone is fighting for it, while surrender is undervalued.

Moreover, surrender touches upon masochism, physically enjoying endorphins rushing through the body and emotionally letting go of shameful limiting beliefs. The most basic idea I learnt from Zen Buddhism is that bliss emerges when we stop fighting and accept life as it is, and then there is no suffering. Before psychology considered masochism a disease, religion thought it to be the cure. And I think there is something to that when it’s conscious and consensual. In my experience, anyone can enjoy or at least find this exploration meaningful when it’s slow enough and well-balanced between safety and bravery.

Surrender traditionally belongs to the feminine aspect of the esoteric erotic polarity, but I’m convinced that it’s essential for everyone of any (and no) gender. Incorporating it into oneself can simply tickle one’s curious approach to life or become a life-long artistic endeavour, critical self-development, or passion for lovemaking. While teaching surrender, I also indirectly teach how to hold space for another’s process of letting go. Participants describe it as intimate, vulnerable and trusting. And it makes them more resilient to the hardships of life.

Sky and earth

As rope bondage is the primary modality for my way of teaching surrender, I offer it in two different variations, earth and sky. The difference is in the technicalities of patterns and positions. The sky variation always works with an external anchoring point, like a pillar, beam or piece of furniture, and more closely mimics the aesthetics of the late 20th-century Japanese masters. It invites the intensity of gravity and the exploration of physical distance with emotional intimacy, where the rope, as a material, becomes the third lover in this ménage à trois. In the earth variation, on the other hand, the rope is the cord tying two hearts together, philosophically speaking. There is no use of external anchoring points, and every movement is solely a power play, a reenactment of the eros between two beings, so instead, the aesthetics are more that of tango meets butoh meets aikido. It uses body weight and pressure for intensity and emphasises physical intimacy. Both variations are available to beginners after a short, free online course, but of course, knowing how to tie beforehand will unravel more subtle details and advanced interpretations.

Power, as a dominant, is vulnerable, as one has to expose their desire. The more deviant and taboo, the scarier it is, but still, both mainstream media and the sadomasochistic subculture overflow with caricatures of emotionless masters and mistresses hiding behind their cruelty. Instead, I think one should blossom in their raw self-expression. Power is an opportunity to explore new avenues of esoteric intimacy that are profoundly energetic and sensual. Far beyond plain and mundane fucking. Learning to wield and surrender to power consciously and consensually requires a great understanding of one’s boundaries and being safe and brave enough to reject anyone overstepping them. At the same time, one should be humble and have humour; anyone that has to assert their power with violence doesn’t own it.

Power is given to someone that deserves it because of their deviant creativity, rocksteady presence, and ability to create magical spaces. Discovering one’s very personal dominant persona is a journey which will significantly affect what kind of submissives they will attract. Luckily sadomasochism overflows with expressions of power, and there are several rituals to practice and embody. And learning the symbolism of fetish items is a priceless tool for this transformation. Being dominant is a paradoxical balance between holding space and being selfish. Holding space is learning how to create a safe container for oneself and others to play with power while being selfish is expressing desire.

But eventually, one realizes that the real key is to stop ‘the doing’ and simply be dominant and do as one pleases as if it is the most natural thing in the world. As dominance belongs to the masculine aspects of the esoteric erotic polarity, mastering it beyond gender becomes a way to simultaneously make a parody of existing power structures while reclaiming a more healthy relationship to masculinity. Playing with hierarchies in the ‘bedroom’ makes one more resilient to them in everyday life. And, of course, as in any play with polarity, there is also space to plunge into the other end – the submission and surrender – to learn, challenge, and worship. In old-school leather culture, no one would ever be allowed step into the boots of the dominant before wearing the collar of a slave. But I promise I’ll be both more flexible and gentle.

Desires, the most nightly deviant ones, are often precisely the same things we rebel against during the day. Yes and no is closer to each other than feeling nothing. This is why we need contained rituals and conscious and consensual play parties. I believe that desire is like a seed buried deep in the subconscious; while it grows, it shapes our creativity and eros. If desire remains repressed, it will manifest itself in the most unexpected places. That’s why most people feel safer in a sadomasochistic dungeon than in a nightclub or even at the office.

Playing with desire borrows a lot of modalities from theatre, like mask possession, character creation, and ritualized scenes. And it teaches how one person’s desires can co-exist and even enhance the desires of another or a group of others in a sort of wordless negotiation. Play parties are often the arena of these fantasies, birthing endless, dream-like explorations into experiences that would be unimaginable in everyday life. The following morning, everything is slow; it’s like the world is readjusting itself back to normal again while the tribe is celebrating and integrating their wounds and victories, knowing that the results will revibrate far into the outside world.

Exploring desire is a layered process. When one layer peels away, another one appears. And there is an opportunity to deconstruct almost anything, like sexual orientation, gender, fetishes and kinks. It’s an empowering process of rediscovering oneself. However, desires are rarely a solo activity; if they were, they are likely to have been explored already. So exploring desire is a group process through interactions and witnessing. Seeing each other’s desires validates them, giving them life, and that makes us all both braver and safer because the shadows are out in the open.

Shame more than laws govern the world. A monopoly of external violence enforces the law, while shame is internally self-regulating based on what we believe is right and wrong. And very often, we are harsh judges and deem ourselves unlovable. Playing with shame is paradoxical because we consciously and consensually invite another into this internal process. May it be a loved one or a witnessing audience. And hopefully, their violently harsh and caretakingly sweet judgements are more loveable than our self-sabotaging and limiting beliefs. Kill it with love, and marvel at the process. Closely related are humiliation and degradation, to be put below something, abandoning all pride, being made one with the earth’s dirt. Descending this abyss makes us humble towards who deserves it. Or perhaps life itself.

Playing with shame requires elegance, as it is an emotionally masochistic journey. Too much physical hardship scares the shy shame away, so one must master their bondage and whip to a level where they become keys to the subconscious. Just as physical masochism, shame raises arousal, blood rushing to reddening cheeks, and therefore marries well with esoteric eroticism. But if it’s too much, we shut down, disassociate, and freeze. It’s a tender balancing act. Many are often also ashamed of their sexuality for being too much, too sluty, or not being enough, too prude. The madonna and the whore. Temporarily leaving these intimate judgements to another allows one to indulge, submit and surrender.

Shame is also at the heart of erotic rope bondage; by exposing, shaping and presenting the body, we touch the mind and soul. Physically challenging ties partially suspended in the air may serve to wither down the protective walls that we so desperately try to lower by ourselves. To let others in, to be vulnerable. Did I say that consent is key? And so is the face because it is how we present ourselves to the world, in language and gestures; it wears the duality crown of beauty and intellect. Expect clamped tounges, devious seductive words, drips of drool, and rope-leased necks beckoned to follow along. But, most foremost, expect to be seen in your shame, vulnerability and beauty.