Taking the Temple to Unearthed Festival — Shibari, Community and Why I Keep Showing Up
I almost did not write this post.
Not because that weekend was not worth writing about — it was. Profoundly so. But because what happened at Unearthed Festival touched something in me that I have been carefully protecting for a long time. And writing about that honestly means letting you in further than I usually allow.
But that is exactly what rope has always asked of me. Presence. Honesty. Showing up fully — even when it is uncomfortable.
So here we go.
The Honest Truth About This Past Year
When I immigrated to the UK I thought I was just changing countries.
I did not realise I was also changing everything else.
I left South Africa after five years of building Shibari South Africa from nothing — a community, a client base, consistent workshops, a space where people felt genuinely held and genuinely seen. I left people I loved. I left a practice that had shaped every part of who I was. I got on a plane with my rope and my belief that I could build it again somewhere new.
What I did not anticipate was how long it would take to find myself on the other side of that decision.
This past year I have been in what I can only describe as the questioning phase of becoming. The space between who you were and who you are still figuring out how to be. It is profound and it is necessary and it is also — if I am being completely honest — one of the loneliest and most disorienting experiences of my life.
I lost myself somewhere in the crossing. Not completely. But enough to make showing up feel hard. Enough to make me question whether the gift I believed I had was real or whether I had simply left it behind somewhere over the Atlantic.
That weekend at Unearthed Festival reminded me that I had not left it behind at all.
It had been waiting for me.
Walking Into the Space
There is a particular kind of energy at Unearthed. It is one of those festivals that attracts people who are already leaning toward something different — something more intentional, more embodied, more real. People who are curious in the truest sense of the word.
When I set up my Shibari workshop space I did not know who was going to walk through the door. I never do. That uncertainty used to feel like excitement. This past year it has sometimes felt like fear.
But something shifted the moment people started arriving.
They came in all different ways. Some with open faces and big energy, already leaning forward before I had said a word. Some more quietly — hovering at the edge of the space, carrying their curiosity carefully like something breakable. Some who looked like they had been talking themselves into this moment for a long time and had finally decided that this weekend was the weekend.
I know that feeling. I have lived in it for a year.
And something about seeing it on their faces cracked something open in me.
What Happens in a Shibari Workshop
For those who have never experienced a Shibari workshop — let me try to explain what actually happens in that room.
It is not what most people expect.
Yes, there is rope. Yes, there are knots and ties and the beginnings of a physical practice. But the thing that consistently surprises people — the thing I watch happen in almost every workshop I have ever taught in Bristol, in Wiltshire, in South Africa and now at festivals across the UK — is how quickly rope strips away the performance.
Most of us spend enormous amounts of energy presenting a version of ourselves that feels safe. Competent. In control. Unaffected.
Rope asks you to put that down.
It asks you to be present — not the curated version of present but the real kind. Where your hands are working and your mind has to follow because the rope demands your full attention. Where you have to communicate with another person at a level most of us rarely reach in ordinary life. Where something genuinely true happens between two people who might have been strangers twenty minutes ago.
I watched that happen again and again at Unearthed. I watched walls come down. I watched people surprise themselves. I watched the particular expression that crosses someone’s face when they pick up rope for the very first time and feel something click into place that they did not even know was missing.
That expression. That moment.
That is why I do this.
That is why I got on the plane.
What the Weekend Gave Me Back
I have spent months questioning whether I still have this gift.
Whether the thing I built in South Africa was particular to that place, those people, that version of me. Whether I could do it again here. Whether the years of experience and the genuine depth of care I bring to this practice would translate across a continent — or whether I had simply been lucky, and now my luck had run out.
Unearthed answered that question.
Not loudly. Not with fanfare. But in the quiet accumulation of moments across a weekend. In a look of genuine surprise on someone’s face. In the conversations that happened after the rope came off. In the people who came back to find me later and said something that I will carry with me for a long time.
Being seen in your craft — truly seen, by people who have just experienced something real through your hands — is one of the most grounding feelings in the world.
I had forgotten how much I needed that.
The Unearthed Festival weekend reminded me.
On Being in the Questioning Phase of Becoming
I want to sit with this for a moment because I think it matters.
The questioning phase of becoming is not a failure state. It is not a sign that you were wrong about yourself or wrong about your path. It is what happens when you are in genuine transition — when the old version of your life has ended and the new one has not yet fully arrived.
It is uncomfortable in a way that is very easy to mistake for permanent.
But it is not permanent. It is a passage.
What I know now — with more certainty than I have felt in a long time — is that my ability to hold space for people is not a product of a particular country or a particular community or a particular phase of my life. It lives in me. It has always lived in me. It crossed the ocean with me whether I knew it or not.
The rope reminded me of that.
The people at Unearthed reminded me of that.
And I am more grateful than I know how to say.
To Everyone Who Came to the Workshop
If you were there — if you walked into that space at Unearthed and picked up rope for the first time, or came to say hello, or simply stopped for a conversation — thank you.
You gave me something that weekend that you probably do not realise you gave me.
You reminded me who I am.
It is always an honour to share this craft. Always an honour to be trusted with someone’s first experience of something this intimate and this real. I do not take that lightly. I never have. And after that weekend I am more committed than ever to making sure that every person who steps into a Rope Temple space — whether that is a workshop in Bristol or Wiltshire, a private session, a festival experience or The Gathering — leaves with something genuine.
Something they did not have before they arrived.
A Note on Where The Rope Temple Is Going
The temple is not going anywhere.
I am not going anywhere.
I am in a transition phase — but transition is not the same as ending. It is the same as beginning. And after the Unearthed Festival weekend I am beginning again with more clarity, more conviction and more fire than I have felt in a long time.
If you have been curious about Shibari workshops in Bristol or Wiltshire — now is a beautiful time to take that step. Our beginner workshops are designed exactly for the person who has been thinking about this for a while and finally feels ready. Small groups, all rope provided, no experience needed. Just your curiosity and your willingness to show up.
If you experienced something at Unearthed Festival and you want to go deeper — private sessions, and our full suite of conscious experiences are waiting for you.
The rope is here. I am here.
Come and find me.
One Last Thing — I Would Love to Hear From You
If you attended the Unearthed Festival Shibari workshop — or if you have experienced anything with The Rope Temple before — I would be so deeply honoured if you would share that experience.
A written testimonial means the world to a small independent business that is built entirely on trust and genuine human connection. Even a few sentences about what the experience was like for you helps other curious souls find the courage to take their first step.
And if you are comfortable — a short video testimonial would be the most extraordinary gift. Just you, speaking honestly about what you experienced. Nothing polished, nothing scripted. Just real.
You can send written testimonials and video messages directly to theropetemple@icloud.com with the subject line My Experience. I will treasure every single one.
Or leave a Google review here — it takes less than two minutes and means more than you know: https://g.page/r/CbOxnRe7X307EAE/review
Thank you for being part of this.
Thank you for reminding me why I stay.
With all my love,
Iris x
The Rope Temple
Bristol & Wiltshire UK
Were you at Unearthed this weekend?
I would love to hear about your experience — written or video testimonials welcome at theropetemple@icloud.com
Ready to take the next step?
Explore Private Sessions - https://www.theropetemple.co.uk/offerings-store [
Shop Rope Kits - https://www.theropetemple.co.uk/shop/p/beginners-rope-kit-burgundy
Download the Temple Guide - https://www.theropetemple.co.uk/shop/p/beginners-guide-to-shibari-pdf