Freedom of Movement
Contemplations on BDSM
I knew a man once who had been kidnapped by criminals in Mexico and kept in a box smaller than he was tall, for an entire year. Tortured, beaten, barely kept alive while the evil-doers tried unsuccessfully to extort millions of dollars from his family. This misfortune befell them because: Mexico. More specifically because they appeared to be rich by sending their children to private school. This tragic tale justifiably deeply shocked me; it was the stuff of newsreels and horror movies. I immediately imagined myself in such a situation, shut up cramped in a box and beaten, my freedom stolen. Captivity. A true nightmare.
And yet, in the first world, the world of privileges and freedoms, options and endless possibilities, people freely and willingly engage in bondage, restraint, servitude, and submission. There are BDSM torture dungeons with cages where people get locked up, in fact there are innumerable ways of being restricted and bound in a BDSM context. We go to rope jams and find people to tie us into knots and suspend us from bamboo. But not for a year. Intention, consent and duration are decisive. But nonetheless, what is this deep urge within us that must be lived out, even for a small amount of time? For me rope bondage makes me appreciate my freedom of movement, makes me experience my body in a different way. A completely different way.
