Tantra dating

In fact, I had just met this man. And we were in a brightly lit yoga studio in the Lower Haight with a dream catcher on the wall and a statue of Buddha in the corner. Roughly 40 other singles were paired off around us, all engaged in the exact same awkward declaration — yes, strangers had been instructed to pledge their unconditional devotion to each other. Tantra, meditation, partner yoga and improv acting. Despite its name, these are clothing-on, nonsexual events.

This was an evening I had signed up for as a revolt of sorts, to combat the monotony of internet dating. I had no desire to go on yet another repetitive walk down Valencia, coffee in hand, with the latest man I had swiped right on. Plus, I considered it efficient—the speed-dating style essentially let me knock out 20 dates in one night. At worst, I would have a story to laugh about. At best, the whole thing might work.

It was a Thursday evening, and all of us were seated on the floor, nervously looking at each other. A couple of people had on yoga clothing, but most were slightly more dressed up, the men in button-downs and the women in flowy skirts. The big ta-da moment? He had two people touch each end and then hold hands—the blue and red lights danced.

Everyone was looking for it, having been fed up with attempting to find it through an app. They wanted depth, a soul mate and real-life exchanges. When the facilitator asked the room if anyone liked swiping, almost rhetorically, I was the lone one who raised a hand. Instead, I was met with looks of pity. Minutes later, I found myself in front of my first date, the tallest man in the room, with longish black hair.

He was thanking the women in his life. Next, it was my turn to thank the men in my life. I started with my exes—I figured that all the rules of a normal date were already out—but before I could get past the first name, it was time to rotate. I had ended my first rendezvous knowing nothing about the man in front of me except that he loved his family. I guess that was something.

The mini dates that followed alternated from bizarre to surprising to super-uncomfortable. At a certain point, I tied my hair up so one man could massage my neck while I was supposed to tell him what he was doing well and what I wanted more of.

The facilitator told me I was practicing the relationship skill of feedback. Later, in a strange therapeutic moment, I found myself seated in front of a man, holding his hands and pronouncing all the things I wanted to let go of— procrastination, hurt, grief.

When I stood up, I actually felt lighter. But I never spoke to him again. As I went through the rotations, I began to crave the small talk I had come here to avoid. While these men were supposedly looking into my soul — or at least trying to — we had skipped over all pleasantries and all the facts about ourselves, all of which suddenly seemed a vital stepping stone to actual intimacy.

As I took my position in front of my last date of the night, I finally felt my first hint of chemistry. But then we were told that we could lie down. I put my head on his chest, and I felt his fingers lightly stroking the outside of my arm. And right at that moment, on the hardwood floor, the attraction vanished. It was definitely too much. I wondered then what would have happened if we had started with a walk on Valencia.

Check out the full season or listen to the episode featuring Jessica Alter, the founder of Tech for Campaigns. More coming soon, so stay tuned!


Find Meetups about Tantra for Singles and meet people in your local community who share your interests. Tantric dating and personals, relationship resources, connect with a Tantra partner and enjoy relating and fulfilling sex. Find people of like spirit to date.

Total 2 comments.
#1 25.08.2018 в 14:51 X0o_Justlikeheav3n:
Quite good news

#2 31.08.2018 в 04:11 Al-Hur:
Dear wretches