so dry that most laughter comes from awkwardness and the inability to take any situation seriously without a pinch of
sarcasm. Now more nervous than ever, I leave my shoes and any inhibitions I can shake off at the door and pray that I’m
not joining an orgy, or a cult. There’s tea and biscuits so that’s a good sign.
I’m pleasantly greeted by the sights of people from all different age groups, ethnicities and I’m sure beliefs. They are
open, and some start gentle conversation, but others sit in silence and I gladly join them without feeling too much like
‘the awkward one’. I already get the sense and realisation that we are all just human, we are all just people who have for
some reason ended up in a mutual place, and while asking people about their reason for attending made for interesting
conversation (to which the answer was mainly chance internet encounters), asking more about who these people were as
defined by their occupation or general lifestyle felt like bad etiquette, and actually not necessary.
After a thorough introduction it begins, the touching. To my relief, it all starts with a brief tap of fingertips, and builds up
until I’m having a giggle and bumping hips with another woman. Admittedly, my participation in the following activities of
hugging and petting took more psyching up to in my head. Whilst the oxytocin releasing physical touch is the main
attraction of the workshop, it was the coaching behind it which actually spoke to me. The love shared in the room is given
selflessly and received selfishly, and is not personal. Your body rewards you with positive chemical rushes for offering
others affection and approval, for which you are also awarded with a space to ask for other to fulfil your cuddling needs.
At this point, where you ask members of a smaller group for what embrace you would like from them, I panicked. I don’t
think I’ve ever been able to make a decision and then selfishly ask for others to fulfil a need, I can’t even ask a stranger to
move their bag off a seat on a train, but as I was following instruction, I did as I was told, and for possibly the first time
ever I was completely honest about what I wanted - which was for people not to touch me.
Trying not to offend my partners, as it really wasn’t personal, I explained how I genuinely enjoy the complete relaxation
of the yoga practice of lying flat, eyes closed, sinking in to the floor, and invited them to join me. Although they seemed
confused at first (perhaps expecting me to ask to be pampered with a foot and back massage), afterwards their reaction
was appreciative - and really quite lovely - saying how although we were not touching, they felt connected. I was taken