A soft glow permeates the room, the scent of sandalwood infusing the air, music like a whisper of wind through grass gently arising. As I unroll my well-worn mat, I sigh, feeling the release of my physical body but also the whispering ghosts of past lives. An offering to the universe, dear Shiva and Shakti, that I may lead others through gates of understanding and merging. Ah, a chegada, the arrival – one of the most cherished moments of my day.
"Buongiorno, bellissimi," I greet, my voice kissed with pride for my motherland, Italy; a soft reminder for me that roots are just as necessary as wings. While I was brought up in the warmth of Italia's charismatic charm, it was the tranquil essence of tantra that had called to me, a song from the East that bewitched my youthful wanderlust. Even though my gender, often perceived as a binary choice, has been a nebulous exploration, tantra has always enveloped me with unwavering acceptance, championing the sacred union of the masculine and feminine energies within.
As my beloved students start to fill the room, their ethereal energies washing over me like waves, I sense a new presence. Looking up, I see her. A hesitant newcomer, her eyes reflecting apprehension yet undeniably glimmering with curiosity. "Questo ГЁ caldo," I chuckle to myself, translating my thoughts to English, "this one's hot." Not merely in terms of her outer beauty, but the smoldering potential, the raw vulnerability she exudes; it brings a spark to my soul and deepens my resolve to keep unfolding the human spirit through tantra.
As the class embarks on our journey of breath and movement, I weave through the rainbow of bodies flowing in harmony, making subtle adjustments as I go. I make my way toward the newbie. Her body is stiff, held tight like a secret. But I know the art of tantra is patience, a slow dance of coaxing the spirit to reveal itself. I guide her through the asanas with gentle firmness, reminding her, and myself, that freedom is a slow build, a journey towards liberation that begins deep within.
As we glide into the centrepiece of our practice - the tantric meditation - I feel an invisible thread connect every soul in the room. In the dense silence, only broken by the hypnotic rhythm of synchronized breaths, an eruption of pure, divine energy fills the room. The newcomer, now radiant, seems to be drawn into our collective heartbeat, as if she's finally tasting freedom. A certain satisfaction swells within me, an indescribable joy that stems from the transformative power of tantra.
The echoes of 'Namaste' whisper through the room as we conclude our session. As the sun sets, and their bodies, glowing with love and sweat, leave my space, I am left alone, but far from lonely. As I roll up my mat, I realize that amidst our physical journey, an emotional one was subtly interwoven. The newcomer’s ignited spirit, the unleashed vulnerability, the shared energy – they’re real, they’re alive. As the room returns to silence, the sandalwood lingers, reminding me of the passion, the freedom, and the slow dance that took place today. As I close my studio, an appreciative sigh escapes my lips. This is the silent, comforting language of tantra, the language of the soul. Ah, a partenza, the departure – another gem in my universe of moments. As I step outside, the moon bidding me "Buonanotte", I am profoundly thankful, incredibly alive. For tomorrow, the dance begins anew. |
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