We are naturally creatures of connection. We need touch. Touch is a part of our health and well being. Even before the added caution and scarcity of covid, the simple request of asking, “Can you put your arms around me?” may seem foreign and scary.
A few years ago, I was talking to a friend of mine and said, “You know when you cuddle with your other friends…” and before I could finish my sentence she interrupted to say, “Lindy, we only cuddle with you. We don’t cuddle with our other friends.” I was shocked.
We are not getting enough touch. I was surprised to find that cuddling is not what everyone does. My naivety.
It has been one of my missions in life to show people that simply laying in each other’s arms can be so nurturing, nourishing, and healing.
Back in the day when I had a king size bed, it was lovingly referred to as: the church of Lindy’s bed. We would pile onto this big bed after dinner or on a Sunday morning with coffee and croissants (oh that’s so naughty!). We would tell stories, cuddle, laugh, cry and share about what’s going on in our life.
I got so comfortable with this intimate connecting that it spilled over into other arenas of life. At Dance Church (years ago), there was a strapping young man who was dancing on his hands. I thought to myself how strong he looked.
Later on, I found him sitting in the chill, rest and whisper corner. I approached and began with, “Would you do me a favor?” He said, “Yeah, what’s that?” I said, “Would you just put your arms around me and squeeze me?” I know that’s a highly unusual request of a stranger, but he said, “Sure!” I leaned back into his chest, and he put his arms around me while continuing a conversation with the person next to him. This man’s energy was very clean. I wept, I laughed, I felt restored. Afterwards, I thanked him and went back onto the dance floor. There was no stickiness. No fondling. No rescuing. It was very natural. Somehow my instincts could see that. Even now, I have a smile on my face and an opening in my heart.
When I was a child, there was so much difficulty in my home life. I remember thinking/knowing, “This is not how it’s supposed to be.” As I grew older, I realized that loving presence (I didn’t have a name for it back then) and caring for each other is how it’s supposed to be.
Humanity has veered away from that.
Yet we, in our community, in our Tantra bubble, have become that loving presence for each other. Often, when we feel like, “I shouldn’t come, I don’t feel good, I’m sad…” this can be the best time to come to class, to come to puja. Puja literally translates to “sacred ritual.”
I invite you to come be with the community and be held. Laugh, cry, and learn to ask for what you want and what you need. Also learn to hear, “No, ask me again later.” The initial sting of a “not now” fades once we come to trust that when someone says Yes, they mean it!
We are all meant to be held, seen and loved for who we are…For our humanity.
I look forward to meeting you again, and again and again.