Doors of the Soul

It was a small enclosure, erected in one day that housed an audience and a stage. I sat and watched each play act out, each person searching for the same thing, but not really knowing how to obtain it. Endless cries of pain, as the whip would lift and fall, the people no more then marionettes, moving to the dance of pain. If your eyes fell on each face, each participant of the show, if you delved into their minds you would know what they all sought, the same thing. That one moment, the release of the soul, of the mind in which you feel an ethereal peace, a sanctuary of freedom, to totally surrender, to submit, to dominate, to control, unexplainable contentment.

Imagine watching a man standing on a cliff, and within a moment he lifts into the air, time almost stands still as he slowly moves towards the water. His body enters, the water enveloping him as he disappears. We sit back and see the beauty, we want to feel the experience but fear stops us, an uncertainty, though we would like nothing than feel the surge that must race through him. A thousand times we may dive with only feet between us and the water, and never will we know how that man felt.

The final act, a naked woman is slowly lead to a chair, her eyes covered, and her world darkness. The executioner’s chair, the interrogators chair, her chair, in the search for her inner freedom. As a warning is expressed to the audience about the nature of what we will see, the straps are tightly buckled around the woman’s frame. A tool case was set to the floor and as it was opened, my eyes riveted, he slowly and methodically worked on her body to get to her mind. To capture her submission, her surrender, he violated, marked and humiliated, to bring her to that one point of freedom.

Sobs were heard as a person slowly slipped out, gasps and eyes averted. My attention did not flicker for a moment. People made it a game, a scene, enduring endless hours of pain to feel one moment of freedom, as they feel themselves floating, lost in a world where there are no walls, nor barriers, where you can soar and lift like butterfly, until no energy is left, mentally the time has come to rest.

Every time I see the world of bondage, domination, sado-masochism I imagine it as a person trying to break down a door. With everything he has at hand, in frustration, pounding and beating, prying as he tries to get in. Slowly splinters break apart, as he centers in the area that has given away, his hands reaching in, trying to force himself through. All of a sudden he gains entry, as he bursts within, without thought of the damage he has done. His time there is limited; he must hurry, because by natural instinct a new door is being built.

Many failed to see the key that was hanging by the door, in their excitement, in their fury to reach within. Maybe they did see the key, but thought their way more efficient; maybe they just didn’t know how to use it. Maybe they don’t know, with that key it will open any door within, nothing is locked, nothing is closed, it all becomes ones playground.

I watched the girl on the stage finally break, the moment of release, she gave up everything, she no longer had a choice, and it was no longer her decision. She was unbound and slid to her knees, weak, exhausted, her lips searching out his feet in gratitude for setting her free.

My eyes did fill with tears, not because of what I had seen, but because she found what she was searching for. I knew what she felt at the moment, I knew the emotions, and I knew how it had consumed her. Maybe I felt envy, I am not really sure. It saddened me because as I moved to my feet to leave, I knew there was another way, someone had once taken the key, and I was waiting for someone, anyone to be able to find it again. No pain, no fear, no humiliation, just a freedom that lasts every moment, with each and every breath, with each waking second of the day.