Elements of Rope Processing

So, I've finally gotten through all of the stages to hand process my first batch of hemp rope, with imperfect but mostly satisfying results. It's definitely not the lovely treated stuff I get from Twisted Monk or Erotic Hemp. Perhaps with time my own work will get there - or possibly not. But as a magickal person, I'm intrigued by the idea of making and consecrating my own tools, and that enough is worth further exploration.

For those who don't know, raw hemp rope like you might find at a marine supply or good hardware store (or, in my case, hippie Eco-friendly department store) is not something you want to put on human bodies, probably not even if they're serious masochists. The stuff is scratchy in a bad way, full of stems and other things you don't want on your bottoms' bottoms. I find it very itchy to the skin. The weave may also not be terribly even. And so, you need to process it to make it worth playing with.

The steps are simple, if a bit tedious. Here's what I did, based on reading Bridgett Harrington's very informative Shibari You Can Use, talking with local riggers, and adding a bit of magickal tech.

Pre-step 1: If you have such luxuries, pass these instructions on to a service submissive and have them make the ropes you'll be tying on them. Sadly, I skipped this step . . .

1. Cut the rope into the lengths you want, and finish the ends to prevent unravelling. You can finish the ends by whipping them (basically, sewing a fancy knot onto them with thread, which you can learn in your favorite knot book), or using an overhand knot or wall knot. I happen to like overhand knots at the ends of my ropes for holding larkshead additions to the ends, so I cut my rope into three 30-foot lengths and finished them with overhand knots.

The blade is an element of discernment, distinction making, and (in this working) air. In cutting, consider: what does it mean to take measure? As you tie: What loose ends do you gather? To what end?

2. Find the midway point of the rope, and bight it so that you have two strands side by side. At the end of both, begin to loosely hand-crochet the rope until you have a manageable hand-crocheted bundle. Repeat with other ropes.

3. Set the biggest stockpot you have to boil with water. Put in your ropes. Pretend they are spaghetti -- really nauseating smelling spaghetti. Set them to boil for an hour, stirring occasionally. Warning: this will make your house smell like bongwater. This step helps to boil out some of the loose bits, and to even up the weave.

Purification is traditionally done with water. As you set the pot to boil, what is your intention for this purification? As you pour out the (by now nauseating smelling) water, what do you release?

4. Uncrochet the ropes and hang them up to dry somewhere for 1-2 days, very loosely coiled. I recommend not drying these in the sun, as sunlight can be damaging to fibers, but probably drying them outside for just a day or two isn't enough to cause damage.

5. When you are ready to consecrate the rope, get a tealight or other safe small candle, and set up a place you can safely work without setting your house on fire should something go wrong. I used a small table in my temple for this, but an uncarpeted space would have been safer. Following Bridgett Harrington's advise, I put on good music - in this case Nurse With Wound's Rock and Roll Station, which I've long used for magickal and scene work.

Run the rope slowly, but not too slowly, through the fire, singing off any loose and scratchy fibers. Slowly turn the rope as you go to ensure that you are burnishing all of the rope evenly. Feel the rope as you go: I worked about a foot at a time, and then used my hands to smooth the rope down, putting out any little embers in the process and feeling if the rope needed to go back through again for more burnishing.

Fire is used to burnish, to consecrate, to dedicate. This step feels on a visceral level like a transformation. I passed the rope from left (if you're a qabalist: severity) to right (mildness) and could feel the stiff rope from the left not only lose its scratchy fibers passing to the right, but also loosen considerably. The very stiff scratchy coils to the left became very supple coils of softer rope on the right. At this stage, as questions of transformation: What am I transforming in this process? How can I use this rope as a tool of transformation, to create forms that could not otherwise occur?

I feel like this stage will see the most improvement as I do more rope processing. My first batch turned sooty in spots, and today smells of camp fire.

6. Check the rope again by running it through your hands. Any scratchy bits? Re-burnish as needed.

7. Because my rope was sooty in spots, I added a step. First, I washed my (also sooty) hands thoroughly to cleanse them magickally and physically. Then I took a white cloth, and ran the ropes through it a couple of times to remove as much soot as possible before oiling them. As I did, I tried to run the rope through in a way that would also work with the weave of the rope.

8. At this stage, the rope should be fairly even and no longer actively scratchy, but it's probably very dry. Take some oil -- I use hemp oil from the health food store, others use mink oil -- and use a cloth or your hands to rub some bit into the ropes to keep them flexible and supple.

The oil has been a source of much debate! My coven brother wants to assign it to air, and Crowley assigns his holy oil to fire. After sitting with this a couple of days, I still want to assign the oil to earth. This is the final step, the grounding, setting the firm foundation for the work. This is making the rope ready to meet the corporeal body. And so, I say that oiling is a dedication of earth. As you oil, ask yourself questions of manifestation: What will be the use of this rope? How can I remain grounded in my practice? How can I bring delight into being with this new tool?

9. If you ever need to wash or decontaminate ropes - which should hopefully be rare - you can repeat the boiling and oiling, or throw them in a pillowcase in the washing machine and reoil them. You don't typically need to wash ropes between play sessions - human oils will just make the rope softer over time. And, Jay Wiseman (who really knows his medical stuff as well as rope stuff) says that any other fluids' potential as a carrier would be lost with a couple of day's drying.

That said, I tend to wash my ropes if they come in contact with saliva or other fluids. If on some happy day they come in contact with someone's blood (consensually, of course) I'll happily gift that bottom with his or her own rope afterward. But for most play, I don't wash the ropes - it will just break them down faster, and work against the natural conditioning process.

And there you have it: the four elements of processing rope. Now, there is only to play at the center - enjoy!