Honourifics and the Codification of Desire

Last Monday night, I sat across the table from a friend with whom I have chatted for years, at a restaurant by the Hudson River. A late April breeze blew over the water, with just enough chill to warrant ordering soup. I sat over a bowl of beef barley soup, complimented by my friend's chicken noodle. Two handsome, older men meeting face-to-face for the very first time.

After half an hour of cordial conversation, my friend said, "Hugh, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course," I replied. I found my friend's directness refreshing after living for years in the consciously courteous society of Vancouver, British Columbia.

"You are a respected LeatherSIR, but you have never asked me to call you that. Why have you never asked me to address you as 'SIR?'"

This was not the first time that I had fielded this question; I never introduce myself as "SIR Hugh" to anyone in the Leather Community. I responded to my friend with the same answer that I have always used. "SIR is a title of respect, and respect is given, not demanded. If a person decides that I am worthy of respect, that person will use the honourific "SIR.'"

I went on to explain that my spiritual path has been Buddhist, and that upon entering that path I accepted precepts that guide me. "One of those precepts says, 'I vow to abstain from taking things not given.' To demand that someone address me as 'SIR' is a violation of my vow. When someone calls me 'SIR Hugh,' I accept that as a sign of respect. It is a gift."

My friend sat for a moment, thoughtfully looking down at his chicken noodle soup. He then raised his eyes and looked directly at me. We sat almost motionless, silent. After a long pause, my friend said, "SIR, thank you for explaining that, SIR."

I sat overwhelmed, and, continued to gaze into the eyes of this man, now transfixed before Me. "Thank you, boy! I am honoured by boy's gift." I smiled. For those versed in Zen lore, the transmission of respect to the SIR was not founded in words. Rather, the transmission was a flower held aloft by a boy, received by the SIR. (The seeming reversal of roles in this seminal story is intentional.)

Over the last few decades, many in the Leather and Fetish community have made an attempt to codify the roles of SIR, boy, Master, slave, dominant, submissive. Numerous classes and workshops have been presented, defining these roles of desire together with the standardization of these roles. Such attempts are contrary to my experience in Leather, and even run contrary to their institutional definitions.

A boy cannot be defined. For some, a boy is a temporary role that is assumed during fetish play. For others, a boy is an apprentice, a student learning the ropes, that follows a pedagogy leading eventually to the bestowal of the laureat, SIR. For a rare few, a boy is a life long identification, an integral part of the person's identity aligned with sexuality. For many people, definitions are simply not possible; their hearts dictate fulfillment both as dominant and submissive individuals. At best, the word "boy" is an approximation of desire, a suggestion of a primal drive.

I am a SIR. My self-identification acknowledges dominant traits that extend outside the confines of sexual expression, traits that find their fulfillment beside a man with complimentary submissive traits. And, even here, definitions fail; the words "dominant" and "submissive" are only approximations.

In the movie "Enter the Dragon," Bruce Lee paraphrases a sutra commonly used in Zen (Chan) training. "It is like the finger pointing at the moon." The intent of his words is simple: do not mistake the finger pointing at the moom for the radiance of the moon itself. In a similar fashion, definitions are often mistaken for the actual objects being defined. As a result, the true nature of those objects is lost in semantics.

I owned a slave for years who could intuit what I wanted. the slave knew what I wanted, and ministered to my desires. At times, the slave would provide protection. If the slave knew I was tired at a public event, the slave ensured that I had the space necessary to relax while continuing to be present. One friend in the community remarked at an event that the slave was part-watch German Shepherd. I laughed. When Master and slave, or SIR and boy, are in tune, the terms "dominance" and "submission" fade.

Essentially, desire has no definition, and the expression of desire varies from person to person. The manifestation of desire is personal, and the fulfillment of that desire falls outside institutional recognition and imposed rituals. While definitions have their place in discussing what we do as Leather and Fetish folk, definitions have pragmatic boundaries. I am a SIR, not because I seemingly mirror the definition of "SIR." I am a SIR because it is at the core of my primal self.