Sangha Yoga Fest 2023

Written between 7/14/2023-7/17/2023 in Northern New Mexico just south of Durango, Colorado.

AI Prompt: A Bonobo and Chimpanzee doing Yoga in a field seductively

7/14/2023 - Rumspringa yoga log. Day 1.

The conscious touch class backfired. Got paired with a dude. I've only said out loud, "what the fuck are you doing" at least 5 times today.

What I have learned so far:

1. Do not be down wind of hippies. That stank travels longer distances than you think and it is amazingly difficult to figure out who the culprit is.

2. Primitive dance involves a lot of rolling around on the ground and is a lot more difficult than you might imagine.

7/15/2023 - Rumspringa yoga log. Day 2:

During a speaker this morning the woman sitting next to me whipped her tit out and started breastfeeding her baby. No cover. Just a raw ripe melon. I experienced jealousy towards that baby but fortunately the Monk that was speaking was discussing no attachment, dualism, and the escalation of emotions from angry to the cause of suffering. That helped calm me down and find compersion for that young child. I like to think we moved through that experience together.

On a separate but related note, I think public breast feeding is a great practice and it will definitely be part of my presidential campaign.

There are also a lot of naked small children running around. Good for them.

And lastly, if hippies smell bad on day 1 of camping, they smell worse day 2. That shit does not get better.

That’s all for now.

7/16/2023 - Rumspringa yoga log. Day 3:

I experienced acro yoga today which for those of you not in the know means acrobatic yoga. Yes, I played foot airplane with grown ass adults. It was a cool experience, but I think I’ll stick to my downward facing dog. At the end they had the 20 adults line up in two lines facing directly towards each other about 20 feet apart; directing everyone to their elbows and knees. We then proceeded to chant ‘mini tank’ as we aggressively, but slowly marched towards each other, simulating tanks in battle. The anticipation was daunting until you finally made contact with a person directly across from you. It was the human equivalent of rhinoceroses chasing each other around in slow motion as people continue to slowly, but surely ram into each other; trying to flip each other over which at times turned into a rolling dog pile. It was all actually quite a lot of fun, and I would strongly suggested whether it be for a team building exercise, or just foreplay.

Additionally, I attended an energetics workshop today where this pregnant woman was in a belly shirt with her entire lower boobs hanging out, including the bottom parts of the pancake areolas. It was oddly appeasing, freeing, and incredibly natural feeling. At one point she got up walked about 20 feet behind a tree and I’m pretty sure she took a piss. That was the second time I witnessed a female do that in the middle of a class and you know what? I love peeing outside and I think everyone should have that delightful experience.

Also, at this point, I’m becoming numb to hairy armpits on women. Some still get me but overall it’s kind of a non-issue. However, thick, dark hairy legs are quite the turn off still.

I attended a really great breathwork session in the afternoon by the gentleman that organized and put on the festival. He goes by ‘Vibe’. I told him he had a good vibe and he agreed. The mental, emotional, and physical sensations in the breath work were very cool. After the session was over, and we were slowly starting to move again, I had tears come to my shut eyes. I experienced the sensation of seeing colors some of which I could play with a bit. I’ve had more graphic experiences before on psychedelics and as a child I remember painting and designing in my head with very vivid visuals. I have lamented over the years, every so often, about how that ability has slowly faded to the point of almost disappearing. I use to be able to create something in my mind and almost rotated around dimensionally, shifting and transforming it as I played. I would bring the visual representation of what I was creating into my consciousness and be able to see it in my minds eye. That has escaped me in adulthood. I can still create and design in my head, but I’ve been missing the fluidity of connecting the visual components and fully seeing it in consciousness. It’s almost like I can create it, but the image itself stays in the subconscious, and only allows me to see the inputs and outputs that go into making it a reality in the world. Similar to designing a house, I can create sets of blueprints that are different for the layout, the electrical, plumbing, etc and then my brain will give me the final output of the overall blueprint, but it won’t allow me to consciously lay each one over itself; shifting and rotating and creating in the process.

I am coming to believe that it is the playful layering and twirling in the creation process where one derives the highest form of magical meaning spiced with joy. The end result is the end result, and although it’s satisfying, it’s often lackluster and rather fleeting. The pleasure is derived in the process of creation, not the result of it. It was a real gift to experience that again even for a short glimpse. The smallest cracks are where the light starts to shine through and I can play with that.

After the small closing ceremony, the last class of the festival was called a ‘contact improv dance workshop’. Initially I was not going to attend because I’m generally not a fan of improv or dance, but there was nothing else going on and both have been something that I’ve been avoiding for quite some time. At this point, most of the faces were mildly familiar and there was a nervous excitement around what the class actually was. They began by having about 30 people walk around head straight towards the ground, eyes open. There was a lot of guidance around feeling your feet in the ground and in the movement. Feeling how your body weight shifts with the contact points of the ground. Everyone was barefoot on concrete. I thought to myself, this must be how zombies feel. And then they would call stop and you found a partner that was closest to you. Male female it didn’t matter. You then proceeded to put your hands together, and slowly start leaning into each other, feeling the contact points of the hands and putting body weight into each other to the point where if the other person moved you would trip but be able to catch yourself. It was a fine line of leaning and weight distribution, and you had to find it with a complete stranger. Each round shifting partners, and shifting the movements. After hands, you moved to touching backs, to touching elbows, and then it got interesting. One person was the Earth and the other person was Water. The earth had to move and provide a foundational support for water, and it was the waters job to flow over the Earth, so as the Earth move down the water person with slowly flow in bend over the earth human. It was all kinds of different, sharing, body weight while in the form of movement. Roles were switched, and then completely removed where there was no leader or follower. Both parties were feeling the touch and their supportive body weights, finding the momentum and without speaking, Intuitively finding and fumbling forward in a the symbiotic movement of life. Coming together and pulling apart. Staying connected, but not to intertwined at least not for too long. A supportive mutual individuation if you will. You often ended up rolling on the floor with the other person, shifting and rolling on top of you and then finding a way to support each other and find the movement in motion to shift the energy upwards, back into a standing position. There is a beauty and fluidity in the movement and it required one to be fully present and intuitively connected with themselves and their partner dancing in this game that is a metaphor for life. And then it got even more interesting… groups were shifted and you were now one of three in a group. Now, three humans had to figure out how to maintain at least one point of contact on the other two while moving, dancing, flowing and supporting each other‘s bodyweight from standing, to kneeling, to crawling, and rolling on the ground. There was a part of it that was consistently uncomfortable, but that gave way to the learning of appreciation for the energy, flow, and human essence of expression with each individual, regardless of physical attributes, or hippie stank. If one of those fuckers have head lice them we all have it now. Also I’m going to start a petition that anybody that participates in such experience must first put on deodorant. I didn’t realize smelling like BO by proxy was a thing, but by the end of it I changed into a different shirt. Amazing experience but much like riding a high speed European train, body odor never enhances the experience.

Earlier in the day, I met a woman in one of the classes. She was there with her friend and each of them had brought their four / five-year-old daughters. They had solid mom energy and were very conscientious with their mothering. We exchanged a few words in some of the classes and sat next to each other in a circle that was designed where each person had a light touch on both sides next to them. Initially hands were on the back and eventually she moved them to my leg after asking permission. I felt comfortable with it and I both noticed and enjoyed that her hand placement was moderately high up on my thigh. I cannot say I thought much of it at that point or there was some huge connection, but there was a warmth and pleasantness in her energy. At the end, we shared what most would feel was uncomfortably long eye contact. I don’t know how long it lasted but perhaps 20 or 30 seconds and it boiled with intentionality and intimacy. The kind of eyes that see through and pierce into the soul in a way where you quickly realize there’s nowhere to hide, but at the same time there’s a gentleness where you also realize you don’t need too. It was the first deep romantic connection that I had with someone since parting with Sarah some 2.5 months back. There was/is a beauty and a peace in it. An allowance and a trust of the unknown. A vacation of the need to make meaning outside of appreciation for the past and present moments. It was all kinds of beautiful.

There is a balanced embodiment of femininity flowing through her and it was clear that she has been cultivating it for quite some time; playing, shifting, and flowing. I experience delight and appreciation for those aspects of her selfhood.

There was some push/pull energy throughout the evening, but in a peaceful and playful way. When she got to the pavilion after putting her daughter to sleep she stepped on to the dance floor, holding what I would learn was a walkie-talkie closely to her ear. This bitch had a baby monitor on the dance floor and was rocking it in a quite sexy way. After some time while I was sitting on a picnic table, having a conversation with someone, she came up to me and asked me to hold, said walkie-talkie, because ‘her neck was hurting, and I was in a quiet space’. I don’t know exactly quite what I expected for a woman’s flirting game at a yoga festival in New Mexico, but I thought hers was subtly on point. I obliged in a state of partial confusion on her intentions, and with a mindful curiosity. I attached it to my hoodie hood so I could easily hear it next to my ear, which was no inconvenience. After a period of time I slowly made my way to the dance floor, where we shared acknowledgment and some connection and movement although nothing overt. Eventually she asked me to dance and then, after a bit, we separated. It was a nice individuation although slightly confusing, as it was quite different than what I had experienced in the years prior. Once the music stopped, we came together, both of us not really knowing exactly what to do next, but feeling enough connectedness where we wanted to move in the same direction. It was comfortably uncomfortable. We went and sat with her friends by the fire and as people slowly went to bed, there was only us, wrapped in a sleeping bag and layered with clothes, attempting to stay warm, we laid there, talking about life, love, ourselves, and taking a genuinely nonjudgmental curiosity in the other. Neither needed the other to be anything other than themselves in that moment and that is a very freeing experience Our lips went from inches apart to touching; both of us agreeing to wait in anticipation of that first full kiss. It’s quite the experience to breathe somebody’s air directly from their mouth without fully embracing them in the traditional way. A strange but beautiful sensation of sharing. We shared different parts of ourselves, dreams, delights, sorrows, past and future. We took turns, holding each other in ways that some couples may never truly experience in a lifetime. It just feels different to hold the inside of somebody and not just the outer shells and I don’t mean in a sexual way.

I told her about Gracie, Bennett, and Liv, and the pain and sorrow I’ve recently been experiencing in missing those kids. She invited me to grieve: offering to bear witness and hold space for me as an individual human outside of the context of her or us. My experience was mine, and it did not dilute or threaten our connection. One of the truest and selfless gifts you can give to someone is being a nonjudgmental witness of their human experience, while providing the supportive energy of love and the guidance of wisdom and clarity that only detachment brings. I have experienced that a few times in the past to varying degrees, but this was the kind of experience that tingles your heart cavity from the inside out and then does it again as you tell the story.

We played with touching each other in different ways. It was rather mesmerizing to feel parts of her body shake gently beneath my hand, as I slowly and intentionally felt her in both a sensual way and in the most human of ways. The tingles and the touches, the shifting and flowing erotic energy in a way that did not require penetration. We made it to second base, skipping first, and then coming back to it, but in so many ways, it was like being on all bases together at the same time. A good ol’ fashioned mind and soul fuck.

We kept talking about going to bed, realizing it was late, but we shared presence for six hours through the night and it was the best kind. The kind of presence where six hours feels like only one. Eventually around 4 AM, presumably, we shared the first real physical kiss, although our minds were making out long before. Gentle and light, followed by depth and passion.

We lay their counting shooting stars, laughing, touching, and sharing multiple expressions of each other’s essence. Eventually, a shallow light came to the horizon, and we both realized that was our queue. Standing up, embracing, kissing, and then coming back for one final kiss, based on each other’s look and smile. There was a delight in the goodbye for now, as opposed to a longing.

I don’t know what the future holds and I do not think either of us needed it to be anything more than it was. We’re different but connected and that’s more than enough. I’m excited with the experience of possibly having more physical connection at some point but I believe both of us have some peace in what was shared regardless of physical presence now or in the future. A gentle surrender to the feeling of love, regardless of its potential or impermanence. Which all begs the question, is there ever really any impermanence to love?

Sometimes god saves the best for last.

7/17/2023 - Rumspringa yoga log. Day 4:

I woke this morning after three hours of sleep with a smile on my face in an odd feeling of a hangover, even though I consumed no alcohol or drugs last night. Perhaps the sleeplessness. Perhaps sleeping in the back of an SUV with no mattress. Or perhaps the hangover of a genuine and raw, sharing of oneself with another. I don’t know for certain. Today I drive to Ouray and stay the night. I’m curious what the next adventure will be and these mountains are beautiful. I’m checking into a place called St. Elmo which reminded me of the cool natural phenomenon of St. Elmo’s Fire. We will see if it lives up to the name.

St. Elmo's Fire