Tantra puja is not what you think it is. There’s no nudity. There’s no masturbation. There’s not even any groping.
These were the things I imagined when I pictured my first Puja.
I tried to imagine the worst, most challenging situation I could be faced with and if I could handle it then I’d be okay to go.
So I pictured a sea of naked bodies touching each other and sitting in a circle masterbating.
This was nothing like that.
This was gentle discussion. Dance. Play.
I met some lovely people.
My friend Gary even went with me which made it so much easier for me to attend myself, knowing I’d have someone to lean on if I got uncomfortable or needed to withdraw a little.
We played a few rounds of “I notice that… I imagine you…” [Like “I notice that you’re not wearing a wedding ring, I imagine that you’re not married.”] It’s an exercise that demonstrates how we make up stories based on our observations.
Then I pretended I was a kite and my friend Gary was reeling me in and out while I danced about. That was the most fun for me.
I played one game with a man who had the sexiest voice imaginable. It was so stimulating to sit across from him and listen to his low, baritone voice rumble on. He could’ve been reading the phone book for all I cared.
We concluded with a flocking exercise where we all follow the leader and move in unison with each other. It was quite lovely. I pretended I was a bird and did pirouettes like I haven’t done since grade school.
Overall, I had a good time but I was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t edgier. That I didn’t have to stretch more and put myself out there a little bit more.
Not that I wanted to sit in a circle with other people while we all played with ourselves.
But a cuddle puddle would have been nice.
There’s should’ve been candles.
Candles always add an element of ritualism to a ceremony.