Hooks!

So as you can probably guess from the silence on this blog, things have continued being not very exciting for me.  That's going to change in a few months; we've grown jack of the suburbs and we're going to downsize and move back into the city.  It'll be good for both of us for a lot of reasons, one of which being we'll be able to get back out to community events more often again.

But that's not what I'm here to write about today.

A couple of days ago I did a hook pull!

I did a quick google to try and find an easy page to link you to if you're not familiar with it, but I'm coming up pretty dry so I'll say this:  on sunday, I had 6g hooks shoved through my back flesh that I then pulled against, for fun.  Want to see a picture?

I'm not a masochist.  I didn't do it for the pain rush or anything like that.  I mostly did it "because I can", because it's something extraordinary, because I like having extraordinary experiences.

What went on in my head during it is mine and mine alone so I won't be going into that here.  But it was a very interesting experience and nothing like I expected.  I also came out of it thinking I might do it again, which surprised me - I thought I'd come out of it with a kind of "well it's off the bucket list now I'm never doing it again" attitude, but actually, I think I might.

Taking the sticky dressing off a very hair back the next day was infinitely more painful than anything involving the hooks, by the way.  :p

Hooked Up #6

Hooked Up was yesterday. My friends and I repeated our performance from last time, with big energy work and big awesomeness. I'll post pictures from it when I have them, because I am absolutely certain there will be some great ones.

It was a lovely few hours, I always feel amazing at hook events. They're like church for me. A lot of people coming together and FEELING things together, pushing themselves, caring for each other, loving... our little corner was full of people hugging, not just hello and goodbye but hugs because we wanted to, because we were a part of something and wanted to feel it physically, feel each other's touch and skin to ground us and remind us why we were there.

It was so much. It was so wonderful.

I was going to write more about it but I've just started remembering it all and it's savouring away in my mind. Perhaps I'll come back and write more about it some other time, when it's a little further away and easier to use actual words to think about the experience.

Thoughts, Mostly about Hooked Up

Forgive a blathery sort of entry, I feel the need to think into text, but have little idea about the actual direction I'm heading.

My mind was drifting back to Hooked Up a few weeks ago. I've already written about how I find hook events to be profoundly spiritual, a place of connectedness and community that is just delicious and warm in sensation.

I was pondering about the pull I took part in, and what the others involved in it have said of it. Particularly the puller, and the heavy spiritual things that pull meant for him, what it meant for him to succeed and what it meant to even take part in it at all. Now that it is some time later, I am finally in a place to truly consider what it all meant to me, as well.

It's not that I don't know these things when and directly after they happen, simply that I am someone who likes to move slowly. I like to think about things a lot before deciding on how I feel about something. I was heady and ecstatic after the event, euphoric even, and continued to feel a strange fuzzy joy and elatedness for weeks after it.

I am extremely susceptible to my own brain chemistry. While my body has a resistance to most drugs (something which can be very annoying in a hospital, let me tell you!), when shifts come from within my own biology and chemistry I am more very vulnerable to them.

I actually enjoy this; it means that when I have a crush, I can spend weeks floating on a cloud of euphoria (as I did when I first began seeing Princess). It means that when I love someone, I love them with a fiery, painful passion. And while, yes, it means that heartbreak and depression also hit me harder than they might otherwise, they are valuable experiences that I try to appreciate.

Being so vulnerable to my own chemistry means that my tendency to move slowly serves me well. It gives me time to let the chemistry return to normal before I go making decisions or shooting my mouth off.

So in this vein, I have finally settled enough to think about Hooked Up in a meaningful way, that is not coloured by euphoria.

Oh, where to begin.

When I was a child, I fancied (like many children do) that I would grow up to be a rock star sort of person. In the spotlight, the centre of attention. A brilliant thing that others would behold. As I began to grow up and become the person that would become who I am today, I began to accept that this was not actually where I was headed.

No, I seem to do best a little behind the scenes. Not in the shadows, by any means, but not in the spotlight either. I am the supporting character, so to speak, or even perhaps the stage manager in some cases.

It's been a strangely difficult journey coming to accept that. Part of me still wants to be a rock star.

But, the show doesn't go on without the stage manager. The story cannot continue without the supporting characters. I would never feel satisfied feeling like a cog in the machine, but then again, that's what I am best at. A large, sparkly cog, perhaps, but a cog nonetheless.

When I guide, this is also my strength. I do not often simply tell people things. I instead ask them questions, and let them find the answers themselves.

At Hooked Up, this was definitely my place. The ground, to hold everyone steady. The one who keeps an eye on the others. Protector. Nurturer. A few steps back from the spotlight, making sure there was enough room for those who are supposed to be there.

And I didn't mind, at all. I felt that I was happily in my place.

There was a moment at the beginning where it was revealed (to me, perhaps it was obvious to everyone else) that I would be rigging pretty much the whole show. Even the cord that went from the hooks to the rope to the pulley system to the woman in rope was my responsibility. It was me that directed those around us to keep back or come forward.

And in my hands, two people. The literal life of one in one hand (the woman being suspended) and the health if not life of the other (the puller, with steel through his flesh, who could be jarred or injured by a wrong move).

I spent most of the pull squatting or kneeling on the floor, just between them both. One hand up to steady the suspendee, so she could watch and feed energy forwards as was her role. My eyes flicking between her and the beast pulling her up, watching for signs of fatigue, weakness, or just a general vibe of "I'm done".

Giving off as much of my love and calm and care for them both as I could. Keeping my senses alert and sharp. Watching. Waiting. Letting them have their moments.

Being the first one to start, examining the rig and preparing my gear before hooks even went near flesh. To say, yes, I can do this. Being the last one to leave, still coiling my rope and watching others talk and smile and congratulate and cheer.

And I was so terribly, terribly happy.

I feel that this is very much a large part of my role in my life, not just in D/s, but in everything. I have written before that I am very much a nurturer. Always that has had a certain innocence, or simpleness to it. Nurture is affection and food and somewhere to sleep.

But at Hooked Up it took on a much, much more powerful tone. To assist in a journey, to help make it possible. To literally guard over people's lives and the health of their bodies. To lubricate a challenge, an experience, to make it just that little more possible, that little bit more enjoyable.

And in return for all this, I received such joy and beauty and euphoria, the likes of which many people spend their whole lives chasing. To be part of something so great, so incredible. Truly, I am the one who got the better end of the deal.

When I was younger, I was convinced that my gentleness would somehow make me less excellent as a dominant. The more I grow and learn, the more I realize that that gentleness is part of what makes me an excellent dominant, and person besides.

One of the most important things any man does is decide what kind of man he will be. It is clear that I am a gentle man, one who loves and nurtures. I could not be more pleased by this. Not only do I consider them good traits for a man to have; but in a society where masculinity is so frequently measured by aggression, I have the opportunity to present a different kind of masculinity. Neither more nor less legitimate, but merely an example that there are as many kinds of masculinity as there are men.

What a weekend.

Where to even begin?

I was doing demonstrations at the Kinky Fetish Demonstration stall at Sexpo all day on Friday and Saturday - I was supposed to go back on Sunday but I pulled a muscle and couldn't do so. It was fantastic - it was basically just like a long play party, I got to hang out with people I adore and do lots of fun things. It was just so much fun.

It made me realize that while I have very little showmanship, I do enjoy having people view my work and watch me do things. There's a line between "performance" and "demonstration" and I definitely fall on the demonstration side - but I still feel greatly energized by an audience and I enjoy having them there. A little nervous too, but in a good way - that kind of nervous you get when you know you're doing something awesome, and that people are enjoying you in return.

Sunday was Hooked Up, a hook suspension event. I was honoured to be a part of a spiritual pull, the ground for some energy work and the rigger for the rope suspension side of the pull. I rigged a lovely woman to a pulley system, and then our minotaur for the hour, with hooks through his back, pulled her up into the air. It was a very beautiful thing that I was just so pleased to be a part of.

Hook suspension events are the closest thing I have to a church, I think. The energy and the emotion that flies around at those things is so intense, it's incredible. I feel connected to everything and everyone at them, a truly spiritual experience just by sharing a space with so many brilliant people pushing themselves to the edge. Just wonderful.

I feel like I should have more to say about my weekend considering how intense and huge it was, but that's all the basics, and it's pretty difficult to put feelings into words when that's all they are and they're not anchored to much else. This weekend was fantastic, and it's everything I want and love my life to be.