“Welcome home.”
Those were the words that greeted me as I checked in at South Plains Leatherfest in Dallas this past weekend. I’m still processing all of the related emotions. Much of the conference was highly personal for me, as I reconnected with my kink and leather friends in ways that I didn’t know I needed. I’m sure there will be several posts in the coming weeks based on lessons I learned there in classes, keynotes, and just plain conversations with other educators (thanks
) and new friends. There is so much love in this community, and it reaffirmed and re-ignited a spark in me for teaching and bringing the deeper parts of myself to this community. For that I am so grateful.One class in particular set the tone for the rest of the weekend – and it was the first class I attended at the conference, hitting me in my feels at 9am on a Friday morning. It turned out to be the first domino to fall in bringing me back to myself. It was Daddy Crone Leenie’s “Are you Willing: Left Side of the Slash.” The description of the class, which was geared toward D-types, mentioned “moments of surrender” and that it could be a path toward embracing “strength in vulnerability.” Whips would be involved: she would be taking volunteers, who would “dance” with Leenie and her single-tail whip, hopefully to release some of the burdens they might be carrying.
Some spoilers: I did not feel called to dance with Leenie, but I was called to bear witness to those who did … and I witnessed some moving and inspiring moments.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say that I’ve never practiced with a single-tail whip, preferring floggers, which I — quite mistakenly — thought were more versatile. But lesson learned … especially after after what I witnessed on Friday. But I will say that I have facilitated several cathartic flogging scenes, with casual play partners, past partners, and with my own slave, and I know how powerful they can be for all involved. I know what it feels like to bring forward a partner’s deepest emotions through the falls of a flogger, and I’ve let their emotions pass through me during the process. I’ve also had several opportunities to watch cathartic flogging scenes, seeing both Top and bottom access profoundly deep emotional spaces, and in that process, let go of the weight that burdened them.
There was a lot of energy coursing through that room on Friday morning, and several of us – including myself – were visibly moved by the various scenes Leenie facilitated. I am not going to go into detail about each, or what transpired in verbal exchanges between Leenie and those who volunteered. Each was highly personal, and we were in a protected, sacred space. Even anonymously detailing people’s responses would seem wrong and disrespectful to the profound intimacy and trust that was established there.
All I can discuss with a sense of accuracy and respect for all involved are the emotions that the scenes brought forward in me, and how that class became the first step toward a deeper and more personal homecoming. Watching Daddy Crone work, I was humbled by her expertise – both technical and emotional – as she threw her whip with equal parts grace, accuracy, and artistry. I have experienced first-hand the power that comes with cathartic flogging; I know what it is to receive and move energy through the handle of a flogger, to chase it through the bottom’s body, to coax it, to partner with it, tease it, and sometimes rend it from a body, heart, and soul that have become so attached to it that to release it is to alter the very fabric of self. But there was something different about how Leenie threw. I was witnessing a priesthood in action – a “priesthood of the whip” ministering through a liturgical dance.
Daddy Crone Leenie reminded me that a Top in a cathartic flogging scene is truly in service – literally ‘ministering’ – to their bottom. This does not mean that they are submissive to their bottom, but that they are obedient to the scene – the catharsis – itself. Never once did Leenie try to force or manipulate energies; instead, she partnered with them, followed them, shadowed them, and truly danced with them. In so doing, she was shepherding the bottoms involved – who were all D-types or switches – into spaces where they themselves could release whatever it was they were carrying. Liberation did not come from the business end of the whip, or from the lashes it left, but from the individuals’ choices to let go.
It was as if she were always acknowledging the sacredness of the moment, and showing deep gratitude to the stories that only she could receive through the scene, and for her part in helping move the energy along and providing a space for the person to whom she was ministering.
And this process truly and literally was a dance. Leenie’s physical movements were holistic, in that it was not just a question of the kinesthetics of throwing her whip; those were only part of a much more complex dance. I watched Leenie’s feet very carefully, as she kept a constant rhythm of small steps or shuffles, seamlessly alternating her weight from foot to foot. From my point of view, it seemed as if it were a means to keep the energy flowing, like she was pumping it from whip to her feet (or vice-versa), and alternately releasing spikes of energy like a pressure valve through her non-throwing hand, through her voice, and through the fall and finally the cracker/popper of the whip itself. Different levels of energy seemed to require different avenues through which to be moved along: the deepest and slowest through the legs and feet, the more agile and forceful through the hands, the most vocal through the throat, and the most intense and white-hot faster than the speed of sound through the cracker.
Again, this is just how I was reading the energy myself.
But what really struck me was the intensity in Daddy Crone Leenie’s eyes as she worked. Leenie has intense eyes that are preceptive, yet kind; and what she conveyed through her eyes during those scenes was openness, curiosity, and most importantly, kindness and compassion. It was as if she was always acknowledging the sacredness of the moment, and showing deep gratitude to the stories that only she could receive through the scene, and for her part in helping move the energy along and providing a space for the person to whom she was ministering.
I had the privilege of speaking to her after the class and spending some time with her at the event’s cigar lounge. There is a palpable energy to her that feels shamanic and deeply rooted in a lineage of healers and teachers. It’s a wisdom that commands respect and reverence, and I felt proud to be able to speak with her and not have to hold back emotions as I told her what I had experienced – and what I had let go of – during her presentation.
I remember when I first picked up a flogger all those years ago, there was something about it that felt natural. Even though my first flogger was by no means fancy or expensive, It felt archetypal … as if there was significance to the basic form of it, and how it functioned. Yes, as I acquired higher quality floggers, each had a different kind of grace, movement, and nuance to them, but overall, the energy transfer that can occur (in the right hands), regardless of how fancy the flogger might be, is something that is undeniable. And I’ve been able to move some deep energies in people and facilitate their catharses. In many ways, that’s what Leenie’s presentation did for me (as did much of the conference): it reminded me of the work that I do and the responsibility I have. I don’t know if I have any direct blood lineage to any shamans (although I’m sure there were a more than a few streghe – witches – in my Italian ancestry), but when I pick up a flogger, I feel that I am partaking in a deeper – chosen – lineage … one of teaching, of leading, of facilitating journeys.
I had forgotten that. I had been holding onto deep guilt and shame for actions and behaviors based in ego and fear. When that spark seemed to go out, I felt I had lost something that could not be recovered. I had shut down the part of me that teaches and leads. Through other work that weekend (something I will discuss in an upcoming entry), I was brought back – directly – to my higher purpose in this community. And it re-ignited a deeper passion, and brought forward the need for obedience to a higher purpose than simply something in my ego. I had known that for a while, but it wasn’t until SPLF that I was reminded of what my higher purpose was, after briefly pushing it away and willfully forgetting it.
But, again, more on that in an upcoming post.
I think it’s fitting that the first post in what will probably be a series based on lessons learned at SPLF is based on the first class I attended, and being reminded so viscerally of the power that we, as kinksters, hold. The priesthoods of our whips, our floggers, our canes, our cuffs, our leather, our latex, our stuffies, our needles, and our collars mean that we lead ourselves and others. We do so through our experiences and the lessons we’ve learned through those experiences. The liturgies of our scenes reenact, reinforce, and rearticulate those lessons to create a community that supports us.
It’s good to be home.
Dearest Quill,
So grateful you have reconnected to your healer within. I am honored deeply by your vision of that Friday morning transformation dance. Thank you for sharing your exquisite energy as a caring witness and throughout the weekend.
In Leather Heart and Spirit,
Daddy Crone Leenie