Rope as a tool for opening up one’s heart

Lately, I haven't been tied that much. For a number of reasons.

Not that much means once every two weeks when it used to be twice every week. That means a fourfold decrease in frequency. A couple of months ago, it would be devastating to me. Right now, it's interesting.
It's interesting because it allows me to observe my reactions to these new circumstances and learn more about myself and my relation to rope bondage. As it turns out, the opportunities to learn and deepen your practice are abundant if your mind is open to it.

It started in ropes

Recently, after two weeks without being tied, I finally had a date with one of my regular riggers. I was looking forward to it not only because I was rope-deprived but also because I really like to get tied by him. What I like the most about our tying are the dynamics of objectification that we usually end up in. I also like his sense of aesthetics in rope. I like to be a part of his creations.

Usually, when he ties me, I get into a victim mindset very quickly, where I feel like a poor objectified girl used by him to create what he envisioned, her responses to his actions completely ignored. But this time, I didn't become a victim when he started to bind me. This time, being in his ropes made me feel secure and familiar.

The moment the first rope of the gote started to take away my freedom, strange warmth descended upon me, I felt safe and understood as if coming back home.

Why this change?

It felt unusual for me to feel that good in bondage because I'm used to treating rope as a tool of abuse, a tool for other people to violate me with, to take away my freedom. But this time it was nothing like that. This time it was giving me back my freedom.

I think that the reasons why it was different now are the fact that I haven’t been tied for a while and my growing experience. I don't think that it was my partner who was doing something out of the ordinary, but rather that my attitude has changed.

The scarcity of rope in my life combined with my familiarity with it made me refocus and go deeper right from the start of our scene. Doing that, I discovered freedom, openness and vulnerability waiting for me right there. They didn't have to be forced out of me the way it usually happens. They were right on the surface, ready to be tapped into.

Only retrospectively I realized what had happened that night, though. And only because another, even more curious thing took place the evening after.

It continued outside of ropes

Every evening, I perform a somatic practice devised by Michaela Boehm called Moving what you're feeling. It's a very simple practice in which each day you put on the same song, close your eyes and start to move, allowing your feelings and emotions to guide the movements of your body. I do it as a form of checking up with myself as well as a way to sensitize myself and for emotional release. One song is the minimum length of the practice, but when you feel like it, you can go on longer, exploring broader and deeper what's within.

That evening, I went longer and deeper. I was moving for a couple of minutes, shifting between an upward powerful posture and a lower more submissive one when at some point my wrists crossed themselves behind my back. It happened without much thinking and led to a revelation.

The moment I felt as if my hands were tied behind my back, blissful fuzziness entered my body. It felt like the shield around my heart started melting and I became totally open and receptive. Then my hands have woven themselves into a high hands TK position, and the feeling of openness became even stronger. It felt almost as if the entire front of my chest disappeared and my feelings were spilling out of me untamed.

At the same time, I felt calm and good. The usual violence that accompanies my opening up was not there. I was willing and eager, light in my chest and connected. It felt so good that I ended up kneeling with my hands in a TK position swaying in the middle of the room for quite a while. The openness and safe vulnerability that I felt were so amazing that I didn't want it to stop.

Can rope really be a tool in achieving heart openness?

I believe that what happened to me that night was so intense because I was alone. I allowed myself to be so open because there was nobody to be afraid of, nobody to hurt me in that vulnerable state. At the same time, the position that brought me to that place was the position that I am often in when in ropes.

Therefore, I see the potential for rope to put me in that space of openness and vulnerability. More so, I expect that rope actually does bring me there, that's why getting into a gote-like position evoked such intense reaction. Only usually, this openness is preceeded with a struggle and a fight. But as it turns out, it doesn't have to be so.

I think that because being tied up leaves one so hopeless and powerless, it makes it easier to let go, to stop fighting because you can’t win this fight anyway. It makes one feel so helpless that one begins to feel safe in that position. Like a newly born child, so vulnerable and weak, but at the same time so open. It allows one to shed all the barriers because there is no reason not to. So much power has been taken away from you already that the small step of giving up, even more, is as easy as ever.

Let's not get too spiritual

It’s not like from now on, I want to always end up in the position that I've just described when in ropes. I like my scenes to be different depending on the mood that I am in, the partner that I am interacting with and the circumstances. I don't necessarily want my rope scenes to be moments of deep emotional release. Sometimes, I want sexy abuse. Sometimes, I want to create something beautiful. And sometimes, I just want to get into the physicality of it without the mental aspect altogether.

I don't see rope as a spiritual activity. I want my tying to be hot and beautiful and intense, but not necessarily spiritual. That's not very sexy. At the same time, I do see rope as something very intimate. And there might be a space for the heart opening in that intimacy.

One has to remember, however, that it's not always appropriate to go that deep, both with regard to your partner as well as the circumstances. Reaching these levels of openness and vulnerability at a rope jam with a person who you usually tie with casually would be like getting naked during a date in a coffee shop. Sure, maybe you felt free and unrestrained at this moment and you just wanted to get rid of all the clothing that was unnecessarily shielding you. But maybe the other clients of the place didn’t want to witness that. Maybe your partner just wanted to have a coffee with you. And maybe, after thinking twice, you didn't want all these people around you to see you naked either. You just wanted to be free. There are often moments, though, when it's better to stay restrained.

Still, I find this newly discovered potential of rope to open up my heart truly fascinating. And the depth that seems to be reachable through its means extraordinary. I can see all the reasons why it is possible. I can see how the restraint paradoxically makes it easier to let your guard down. You've been captured, you've lost, there is no reason to fight anymore, no reason to try to keep up appearances. Just let go and allow yourself to open up. You are being vulnerable already.

And even though I don't think that I'll look for such depth in ropes often, the sheer possibility of getting there is thrilling. The emotional catharsis that I suspected to be possible through rope now proved to be reachable. I just need to allow myself to go there when the opportunity arises. And I think that I will, now that I know how it feels.