CraigJustCraig

Tag: mindfulness

  • Bondage as an act

    Rope engages both the body and mind in profound and fascinating ways, triggering a range of physiological and psychological responses. The sensation of rope on the skin activates the somatosensory system—especially the nerve endings in the skin and fascia that process touch and pressure. This stimulation begins to shift the brain out of scattered mental activity and into the parasympathetic “rest and digest” state, where healing, integration, and deep sensory presence become more accessible.

    Depending on intention and context, rope can evoke responses ranging from soothing comfort to cathartic intensity. Beyond the physical sensation, it quiets the noise of external distractions and draws awareness inward. This inward turn becomes a somatic anchor—a tether to the present moment that opens pathways for emotional release, spiritual attunement, and energetic transformation.

    By intentionally engaging the nervous system through rope, we invite a kind of sacred surrender—a state in which the body, mind, and spirit align in vulnerability, presence, and connection.

    Rope is more than physical restraint—it is a catalyst for powerful internal shifts. The combination of pressure, controlled stress, vulnerability, and deep trust initiates a cascade of neurochemical and physiological responses that reshape not only the body’s state, but also the emotional and spiritual experience of the scene.

    At the heart of this transformation is the release of endorphins, the body’s natural painkillers. Intense or restrictive ties stimulate these neurochemicals, which reduces pain and induces sensations of euphoria, relaxation.

    Oxytocin, often called the “love hormone” or “cuddle chemical,” plays a crucial role in the emotional and spiritual bonding that can occur during rope play. Released through touch, trust-building, and co-regulation, oxytocin promotes feelings of safety, intimacy, and attachment. It is especially active during aftercare, where grounding, cuddling, and affirming presence help partners integrate the experience. oxytocin supports “cathexis”—the investment of psychic energy,  process of attaching emotional significance to something.

    The experience engages the sympathetic nervous system, triggering adrenaline and cortisol. While often linked to danger, in a safe and consensual context, these chemicals heighten awareness, sensation, and excitement. increasing heart rate, sharpens focus, and flooding the body with energy. When experienced mindfully, cortisol can help release stored emotional tension, facilitating a cathartic, and spiritual, release.

    Following the scene, the body often shifts into parasympathetic regulation, producing serotonin, this feels like peace, safety, and completeness

  • On Somatic Resonance

    Ive talked about this before but i have learned alot more about after research and reading and practicing Stephen Porges, Peter Levine, and *Bessel van der Kolk in rope session. if your not familiar these are the authors Polyvagal Theory which essentially is how our nervous system responds and how that is influencing our social behavior and emotional regulation, Waking the Tiger which is how to encourage and recuit the body own systems for healing, and the body keep the score which is which show how you how your body and your mind actively reshape on another. This creates a Language to communicate with. while this is not strictly rope related it has help me craft session with more intention and precision.

    When I begin a scene, I’m not thinking about the restraint—I’m thinking about architecture. How the body folds or opens, how tension is built or released, how position speaks to you.

    Closed shapes like fetal, curled, knees tucked inward—often inspire feelings of safety, introspection, and containment. They activate the parasympathetic nervous system, inviting rest, digestion, and co-regulation.

    In contrast, open positions—arms wide, heart exposed, pelvis elevated, or exposed—evoke vulnerability, surrender, power, or display. These shapes carry both somatic charge and symbolic weight. To expose the belly is to show trust. To lift the chest is to offer the heart. to offer the neck is a sign of submission.

    “The way shapes we hold changes the way we feel.” A tied body is a speaking body. The body speaking is the psyche speaking.

    I have noticed a Listening Beneath the Skin. The body is more than a vehicle—it is an archive.
    Our fascia holds memory, our **nervous system catalogs our experience , and our posture encodes and outputs both our past and our reality.

    Have you noticed how different ties evoke different emotional states—regardless of physical intensity? For example, How a chest harness make someone feel held?

    Resonance teaches us to listen to the echoes of sensation. A tight waist line may feel like a good back stretch—or a trigger. A ascendion may feel like flying—or floating away .

    The I think the key is intention, presence and purpose. The body responds to our invitation sympathetic (arousal) and parasympathetic (release) systems creates a dances with transition. We charge, then we discharge. We constrict, then we soften.we bind and we release.

    Some of the studies presented show what the mystics have been saying: _Change your posture, and you change your consciousness._

    “Power poses” increase testosterone and lower cortisol. Upright postures increase confidence and social presence. Slouched shoulders invite withdrawal. These postures are chemical**.

    Have you noticed your baseline. I have build the structure with the natural shape; but in doing invite them to inhabit new shapes which corresponds to new states of minds. That is where the invocation comes in. When I tie someone into an open shape, I’m not just putting them on display—I’m summoning a version of them that may not always get space to speak. When I collapse their posture into a fetal fold, I’m not making them small—I’m offering sanctuary. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can offer someone is a shape they forgot they were allowed to inhabit.
    I feel like we are braidingourselves into the nervous system.** We attune with our bottom with communication, with check ins, but on a deeper level im watching the way the breathe, where in the body is holding energy, where pain or sensitivity might be coming from. I looking for signs to tell me whether we are moving into regulation or dyregulation. so that kinda the language that is being spoken. The rope carries a current we activate with compression, with rhythm, with co-regulation. You create this kind of resonance and type of coherence. I think this is why sometime the rope session feels like therapy. or going to the chiropractor. its a kind of realign with self.

    The body plays “game” to survive.
    When threat is perceived, energy mobilizes: fight, flight, freeze.
    But rope invites new games.     a kind of ritualized renegotiion helping the body discover a new strategy, a new story.

    By intentionally altering state through posture, sensation, and presence—we give the nervous system a chance to complete unfinished survival loops or unfinished business. To release what was held. To try on a different possibility. This is why a session may end with tears. Or laughter. Or silence.
    Because something moved. the body finally had space to speak its own language—and be heard.

    I guess im trying to say the body is not passive—it is alive, intelligent, and aware.

    To tie well is to listen deeply.
    To be tied well is to trust fiercely.
    And to witness both is to remember what it means to feel whole.

  • reflections of the bald one

    Today, I had a fascinating conversation about why I use tantra and energy work in my rope practice and how I started down this path. It was such an insightful reflection that I wanted to share it here.

    When I first began tying, it was simply to learn a new skill. But as I practiced and studied—reading books, taking classes—it quickly became something I loved. The shift happened when I learned about somatics and tantra. I started seeing rope as a spiritual practice. Somatics taught me that we are connected beings, not only to each other but also to ourselves. Our bodies reflect our emotions, and unless we embrace all emotions, even the difficult ones, we remain influenced by invisible forces. It reminded me of the saying, ‘Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will rule your life, and you will call it fate.’

    Exploring tantra was initially challenging; I struggled to connect it with somatics. But when I began to see energy as a force that can be directed with intention, I gained clarity. This led me to explore intentionality, lifestyle mastery, and the art of loving, eventually guiding me to sacred kink, paganism, sex magick, and erotic hypnosis. Sacred sexuality became a path toward carnal alchemy, transmutation, and even entheogenics.

    I now seek a coven that embraces mysticism, ritual, and ordeal. I want to build a community with those who don’t avoid shadow but embrace it, who revel in wicked desires, and who see ordeal as a crucible for transformation. I seek those who view intimacy and the erotic as a powerful, expansive force—one that isn’t about control or reduction but about embracing the uncontrolled and the limitless.

    Reflecting on this journey reminded me of how much my rope practice has evolved. I’m still learning and growing, but it’s beautiful to see how far I’ve come and where I hope to go.

  • Last Night’s Scene: The Awakening

    I’ve noticed the changes our scenes have caused already. You’re more aware of your boundaries now. You defend them better. You advocate for them with ease. When we started, you knew no fear. That was admirable, but also dangerous—a blindness to the wisdom fear provides. We must have fear; it gives us information we’d otherwise miss. Fearlessness is not the goal; courage is. To be courageous, you must first know fear. Feel it. Confront it.

    I wonder what deadened your fear before. What shock or loss buried it deep? In time, I’m sure I’ll learn, as all truths reveal themselves. For now, we continue this process of awakening. Tonight, we honor the intentions you’ve set for yourself, the path you’ve chosen, no matter how difficult it may be.

    Your intention is clear: to stay true to yourself, to walk the path meant for you. My intention is equally resolute—to help you manifest that.

    We set the table, laying out the tools one by one. You watch, nervous yet curious, asking questions in a soft, wavering voice: “What’s that for? Are we using that too?” I see you trying to piece it all together, but tonight isn’t about certainty. It’s about trust—trust in your resilience and in the path you’ve chosen. Doubt and hesitation are killers of magick, and we won’t let them take root.

    I smile as I move slowly, methodically, setting everything in its place. I see the tie settle into your body, and I feel your nervousness climb to new heights. Life, like a sadist, waits for consent—neutral until given direction and purpose.

    When I lay you on the table, I ask for a mantra, a truth you want to make real. Your words are beautiful, full of power, and I tell you to hold them close as we begin. You’re secured now. I ask you to move, and you laugh nervously: “Wow, I really can’t move.”

    “You only know the half of it,” I reply, securing my favorite cuffs to ensure your helplessness. Tonight, you must endure.

    Small bites along your body tease the reality of your immobility. I let the helplessness settle over you like a weighted blanket. My aura expands, filling the sanctuary, feeding off the pain and pleasure you radiate. I return to the rack and carefully select the next tool.

    Your nipples, so sensitive, now house my clamps. A bear claw rakes your flesh, drawing out gasps and shivers. Tucked securely in your bonds, I let the knife skitter across your skin, leaving surface-level nicks and cuts—just enough to imply the danger.

    You’re slipping now, retreating into the world we’ve created together. I hear your mantra echo in the space, grounding you as I step through the door you’ve opened. Your subconscious is waiting for me, beautiful and raw.

    “Lovely what you’ve done with the place,” I tease, as the ritual begins.

    I take the wax and trace the rune we prescribed. Tonight, it’s leadership—a heavy burden, but one you’re ready to bear. The wax drips slowly, deliberately, searing its purpose into your skin. Your screams shift to moans as the heat transforms into acceptance.

    You slip further into the trance—not quite as deep as during the Table Challenge, but deeper than before. Your consciousness takes a back seat, and your subconscious takes the wheel, repeating the mantra like a sacred hymn.

    By the time we finish, you’re utterly still, the ritual’s purpose etched into your body and soul. I pour the same care into aftercare as I did the scene, cleaning and soothing with precision. We read together, grounding ourselves in the mindset needed for this work—the awareness, the responsibility, the magick.

    You’re more receptive tonight, still unfolding from within yourself. That’s okay. Your journals will help guide you until next week, when we’ll take the next step in this journey.

  • The Three Steps to Effective Conversation

    1.Lead with presence.

    2.Come from curiosity and care.

    3.Focus on what matters.

    The First Foundation: Presence

    Effective communication requires presence.

    •Given the complexity of communication, transformation occurs most readily through small shifts sustained over time.

    •Presence lays the ground for connection.

    •Lead with presence; begin conversation with awareness, return to and strive to maintain that awareness, and be honest with oneself about what’s happening.

    •The more aware we are, the more choice we have.

    •Leading with presence includes mutuality, seeing the other person as an autonomous individual, and uncertainty, acknowledging and accepting the unknown, both of which create new possibilities in dialogue.

    The Second Foundation: Intention

    Intention determines direction.

    •Our intentions, views, and experiences reinforce each other: views determine intentions, intentions shape experiences, and experiences confirm our views. Shifting our view therefore can change our intentions and our experience.

    •Being aware of our habitual conflict styles allows us to transform the underlying beliefs and emotions that hold them in place and to make different choices.

    •The less blame and criticism, the easier it is for others to hear us.

    •Everything we do, we do to meet a need.

    •People are more likely to listen when they feel heard. To build understanding, reflect before you respond.

    The Third Foundation: Attention

    Attention shapes experience.

    •The more we are able to differentiate between our strategies and needs, the more clarity and choice we have.

    •The more we understand one another, the easier it is to find solutions that work for everyone. Therefore, establish as much mutual understanding as possible before problem solving.

    •Being aware of our emotions supports our ability to choose consciously how we participate in a conversation.

    •The more we take responsibility for our feelings, connecting them to our own needs rather than to others’ actions, the easier it is for others to hear us.

    •The more we hear others’ feelings as a reflection of their needs, the easier it is to understand them without hearing blame, needing to agree, or feeling responsible for their emotions.

    •Having empathy for ourselves increases our capacity to listen to others, whether or not they have the space to listen to us.

    •Stating clearly what happened, without judgment or evaluation, makes it easier for someone to hear us and to work toward a solution.

    •Translating judgments into observations, feelings, and needs can yield valuable information about what is and isn’t working and provide clues for how to move forward.

    •When giving feedback, be specific about what is and isn’t working and why, which makes it easier to learn.

    •The clearer we are about what we want and why, the more creative we can be about how to make it happen.

    •Have ideas for strategies that meet as many needs as possible, which invites others to look for creative solutions.

    •Stating how a conversation can contribute to both of us helps create buy-in and willingness.

    •Whenever possible, check if the other person feels understood before moving on to a new topic or shifting the center of attention to your own experience.

    •We have more clarity and power when we use fewer words with more sincerity. Speaking in short, succinct chunks makes it easier for others to understand us.

    •Attending to our own reactivity, noticing the rise of activation and supporting the calm of deactivation, can help us make wiser choices about what to say and when.

    •When in conflict, if we aim to listen to the other person first it increases the chances that they will be willing to listen to us.

  • What is Remembered, is Restored

    In a recent session, we focused on decompression and fascia release.

    In a world that trains us to split, divide, and dominate,
    this work moves us gently: allowing tension to soften and giving space for something deeper to emerge.

    An undoing of all the ways we’ve been trained, controlled, and fragmented.

    This is woven into our everyday experience. It lives in the body, pressed into the breath, curled around the spine, locked into the tissues. Unintegrated it becomes part of us.

    We are taught this is normal; to see the world in split pieces. Strong vs weak. Good vs bad. Mind vs body. Spirit vs reason. These splits are reinforced again and again, until the natural unity of self is broken and compete. This shapes our behavior. It shapes our beliefs, our imagination, and our body itself.

    In rope, we begin to reverse the fragmentation. We invite the Self to slow.
    That slowing creates an opening to shift.

    Seekers come to this work carrying chronic pain and a long history of discomfort, often managed through medication, endurance, and bracing.

    They’ve learned to survive it.

    But, many experience significant relief even after the first session. The pain doesn’t vanish: it moves, shifts, softens.

    With each session, The pain lessens.
    And slowly, the body begins to feel like home again.
    This kind of healing moves beyond treating symptoms. It invites the body to participate in its own restoration. Through intentional effort, we help the body learn safety from the inside.

    Rope offers a return, a experience, felt beyond the skin. The body is fully present. And within that learns that safety is possible. That holding does not have to hurt. That surrender can be healing. That rest is spiritual.

    The goal is not to conquer or control. It is to listen, and to reconnect with what’s been split. To allow meaning again, not another problem to solve, but a story to be told.

    When we treat with rope, we step out of logic. We return to knowing—that knowledge comes from immersion, and not distance.

    This is sacred .