Tantric Healing With Rahi: Pt 2

Session 1: CW I don’t get into any of the fun stuff, this is a platonic session, so if you’re just waiting for the pelvic work, you’ve gotta wait a little longer.

Rahi told me to show up in yoga clothes-- something lightweight and easy to move in. For the first session I would remain fully clothed. Rahi works out of one of the LA Jewish neighborhoods. I pulled up to his building as two young Hasidic mothers walked side by side with strollers, their hair concealed under modest brown wigs.

I arrived after a late night working an outcall. I was bleary and yawning every few seconds. Rahi greeted me at the door. He was taller than I expected, with his hair tied back in a neat ponytail. He wore an all black yoga outfit. Together, we looked like we were about to murder some vinyasas.

Rahi: [legal name omitted]! Nice to finally meet you. Come in! Can I get you anything?

At my request, Rahi fetched me some kombucha and led me to the room where we would have our session. I took a seat on a couch and settled in, trying to appear less sleepy. Rahi sat in a chair across from me, six feet away with a face shield covering his face. We were trying our best to observe proper coronavirus protocol. I was not wearing a mask because it was important for him to read my expressions.

Rahi: Could you tune into your body for me? Just observing any sensations that might come up. And whenever you’re ready, could you share with me what you’re observing? Are you holding any tension anywhere? Are you breathing deeply?

I shut my eyes and stilled myself.

Me: I feel… tired. My breathing is deep, like it is when I’m sleeping. My back is… a little tight. My right knee aches a little, but that’s normal.

Rahi: It’s normal that your knee hurts?

Me: Yeah, they normally hurt at least a little.

Rahi: When did they begin to hurt?

Me: I don’t know. It’s been so long.

Rahi: Was it because of an injury?

Me: It’s been cumulative. Because of my job, I’m on my knees a lot, so I’m constantly hurting them. Dancing is very high impact.

Rahi: Have you ever seen a doctor about the pain?

Me: No. I figure they’ll just tell me that they’re damaged. I mean, what can they really do? Joint pain is just part of getting older.

Rahi: I’m worried about your knees. I want to figure out a way to begin to heal your injury.

I appreciated his worry. I worry about my joint health too. He handed me a little spray bottle.

Rahi: This works for inflammation. You spray a little on your knee whenever you’re in pain. Take it with you, and let me know if it helps. If not, bring it back and we can try something else.

It was a kind gesture. Thoughtful little gifts are the way into my heart, and Rahi was intuitively making his way in.

Rahi: I thought, for this session, we would begin with several TRE exercises and then afterwards work our way through some NeuroAffective Touch where we start to work on you communicating what your body wants, and what it needs to feel supported in expressing those needs.TRE stands for “trauma release exercises,” and it’s a way we can let out the anxiety we humans store in our body. What you see with other species is that after a confrontation, or after they experience stress, they immediately shake it off, quite literally. Think of dogs, or any animal really. They all shake after a fight, and that’s a way our bodies release tension and begin to regulate our nervous systems. So that’s the methodology around TRE. Does all of that sound alright to you? Do you have any questions?

Me: Uh, no. I don’t think so.

Rahi: Are you ready to begin? Can I get you anything else? More kombucha?

Me: I just need to use the restroom real quick before we start.

Rahi: Sure! Let me show you.

Rahi pointed me to his bathroom and I sat down to pee. The kombucha had gone right through me. I spent a moment looking around the little bathroom. There was a shelf above the toilet with vaginal wipes, tampons, makeup remover, and hair serum. It was a really welcoming touch. I knew my vulva’s needs would be accounted for.

I returned to the therapy room and we began the exercises.

Rahi: These exercises are all intended to be mild, so I want to keep the strain to a minimum. As soon as you start to feel any “burn,” we’ll either stop or reduce the strenuousness of the exercise. I’m going to have you rate the strain on a scale of 1-10, 1 being feeling nothing different from when you’re sitting immobile, 10 being aerobic activity. I want to keep you below a 7. Does that make sense?

Me: Yep.

We went through a number of light exercises, from calf raises to chair sits. It was slow and meditative. I wanted to strain myself. I only ever exercise with the goal of exerting my body enough that my mind goes silent. I’m an exercise masochist. I get it from my mother. The self-hatred quiets down whenever I push myself hard enough. It used to be a real problem. I’d run when it was 20°F with the flu. I’d run when it was 98°F under the midday sun. And even that was often not enough to keep me from imagining taking a knife to my stomach and cutting away at my loathsome bits. But this wasn’t about exertion. This was about the opposite, in a way. It was about trauma release. At the end, Rahi had me lie on my back with my feet together in a reclined butterfly posture. I began with my knees together and then gradually lowered them, centimeter by centimeter until my legs began tremoring.

Rahi: Do you feel it?

It was surprising. I usually don’t expect my body to work normally, but sure enough, I was shaking.

Me: Yes.

Rahi: Where do you feel it? Let me know if at any point it becomes uncomfortable.

Me: I will. I feel it…

I closed my eyes and scanned my body for the source of the sensation.

Me: It’s kinda around my groins and hip flexors.

Rahi: That’s good. It should be coming from around your hip flexor area. Anywhere else?

Me: Um…

I shut my eyes again, searching for anything else.

Me: Just there.

Rahi: Good. Can I have you lift your knees just a couple centimeters higher?

I followed Rahi’s instructions and the tremors continued. I didn’t know what it meant, if it was doing anything. My stomach began to grumble.

Rahi: That’s good. Whenever digestion begins, it means that the nervous system is calm. I’m just gonna have you hang out here for a couple more minutes.

I felt very calm, almost sleepy. I didn’t feel like I’d earned that calmness. I hadn’t worked that day or pushed myself physically, and yet I was tapping into relaxation. It didn’t feel right. And yet, it was what I was paying for? I was paying for a kind of peace. And yet, simultaneously I didn’t know what I was paying for. I was hoping to build communication and the ability to know what I need, yet I still didn’t know. Was this what I needed?

Rahi: You’ve been tremoring for about ten minutes now. I just want to check in to see if you’re ready to move on or if your body is saying that you need more time here. I want you to take a moment to check in with what your body wants next.

I was definitely feeling restless. I wanted nothing more than to get up and press on to the next thing, but I didn’t know if that was a mental block or if it was what my body was actually wanting. I decided to take a moment to consider the difference. My head felt a bit mushy lying flat on my back. The only thing I could say with certainty was that I didn’t want to be lying on my back anymore.

Me: I think I’m ready— I’m ready.

I corrected myself. I wanted to use decisive statements. I want X, I don’t want Y. I was paying to be demanding, damn it.

Rahi: Good. I’m going to move the out table and then I’ll have you lie down to begin the NeuroAffective Touch.

Rahi pulled out the massage table and I laid down on my stomach, counterbalancing all the time I’d spent on my back. After a moment of fidgeting, I settled in, still a bit uncomfortable, but fine enough for the moment.

Rahi: Your arms look a little lopsided. Would you mind if I tried providing them with a little support?

That actually sounded fantastic.

Me: Yes, please.

Rahi: Good! How about…

He came beside me and snaked two heated, bean-filled pillows around my arms. The warmth began sweeping into my body, easing a bit of pain I hadn’t realized I’d been feeling.

Rahi: Does that feel good, or could it be any better? Do you feel like you might want more support for your hands?

It had felt good, but now that he mentioned it, I did want something for my hands.

Me: Yes, I would like that.

He moved the pillows so that they formed around my hands.

Rahi: Does that feel better?

Me: Yeah.

Rahi: Can you tune into your body again and let me know if there’s anywhere else you might want a little support?

Me: My knees.

Rahi: Perfect! Let me see what I can do.

My knee had begun to hurt again. Rahi fetched another pillow and wrapped it around my knees. The warmth helped ease the pain, but the placement was off.

Rahi: Is that good, or would you like me to shift the pillow higher or lower, or in any way that could make this more comfortable?

Me: Can you shift it a bit higher?

Rahi: Of course!

We continued this way, adding heated pillows and blankets until I felt totally warm and nestled, almost as if I were back in the womb. I felt the pull of sleep tugging at my eyelids. My stomach gurgled again, confirming my internal peace. I laid for a while, cradled, considering how hard it had been feeling entitled to express what I wanted. Rahi had had to coax it out of me, almost forcing me to be precise and demanding. Where I would have settled, he instead offered me the option of more. I would have been happy at good, but he wanted me to only accept excellence. I am the habitual nurturer and caretaker. If I want something, I handle it myself. Nobody has been there to attend to my wants, and I don’t expect anybody to truly go there and attend to my exact desires. My voice felt so small and quiet as I guided Rahi, and yet he was listening intently.

Rahi: And now, is there anything else I can do to make this any better with my hands? I could apply pressure on your shoulders or lower back. You decide. If you’re fine as you are, that’s totally fine.

Me: Could you press on my lower back?

Rahi: Yes. Definitely.

He pressed and I felt my spine stretching. I felt a bit of additional length in my body and the pleasant warmth of his hands. He stood patiently applying pressure for several minutes. No complaints or fidgeting. No signs that he had other business to attend to and needed me to hurry things along. I knew I was paying him for this. I was paying to be selfish. I was paying to be greedy. And yet I couldn’t feel like I was the priority. I felt confused about what the priority was. Why me? Well, money of course, you booked the session. Why couldn’t I accept my own indulgence? I felt nice and yet the little voice naggingly whispered that I was a burden. I was taking up too much space. My needs were insurmountable. Nobody could care enough to care for me fully.

I absorbed the support as best I could, feeling as if I might be lulled to sleep. I willed myself awake. I didn’t want to pass out. To stay awake, I tuned into the sounds around me: the quiet ambient music playing from Rahi’s iPod, people passing outside, traffic in the distance, Rahi minutely shifting beside me. It was the most one sided interaction I’d had with a man in ages. He wasn’t looking at me, he was seeing me. He was completely engaged with what I wanted, and it wasn’t burdensome accommodating me. It was the point. I was the point.

I think I was on the table for nearly an hour. Occasionally, Rahi would inquire about adjustments, seeing if I was still comfortable--if there were any additional needs he could attend to. It was alarmingly pleasant. By the end, I felt restless. It was such an unfamiliar situation that deeply contrasted the sense of lack I’d grown accustomed to in my personal life. I wanted to enjoy myself, and I did, but in a way it was like pressing into a bruise. I was going to return to my unsatisfying relationships where my needs would resume their secondary position. Not to throw shade on my lovers--this isn’t their fault--our paradigms arose out of my own habits. The children of borderlines tend to naturally revert to parentified, caretaker roles. In attempting to create space for myself, I realized how little space I take up.

Rahi: I’m going to remove my hands, and give you a moment for your body, to integrate all that we’ve worked on today. Whenever you feel ready, you can get up and take a seat back on the couch. Take your time. There’s no rush.

I paused for a moment, in a way as a performance. I wanted to snap up immediately, but it didn’t feel appropriate. I was groggy and simultaneously restless. I didn’t know how I looked. It didn’t matter, but in a way it did. I’d surrendered as best I could, and felt exposed. I sat on the couch with my legs crossed, then uncrossed them because my knee pain had returned.

Rahi: Thank you so much for trusting me today. Before we end, could you tune into your body again?

I shut my eyes, looking inward.

Rahi: Whenever you’re ready, could you tell me some of the sensations you’re feeling?

Me: I feel… calm. Tired, but relaxed mostly. A little pain again in my knee.

Rahi: Thank you. I’m worried about your knees. I’m going to continue thinking about solutions for your knee pain.

I smiled. I appreciated that Rahi was concerned about my knee. I was too. Maybe it was generally having someone concerned with my pain. I’m perceived as impenetrably strong. Unflappable. Consistent. But that’s not the case in my internal world. I just don’t emote like normal people. My monotone stoicism is mistaken for zen. My stoicism is a cloak for my pain.

I thanked Rahi for his time and he led me out. At the door, I paused to put on shoes.

Rahi: May I hug you?

Me: Of course.

Rahi leaned down and gathered me into his arms in a firm, yet gentle embrace and held me. It was a longer hug than Americans are typically comfortable maintaining. It wasn’t creepy. It was more like the eight-second-hug I do with my friends because some study I read concluded that it takes about eight seconds for a person to begin to relax into a hug. Their breathing deepens, and their guard begins to disengage. Rahi’s hug felt like a combination of this calming technique and a means to read my body. Were my words saying one thing while my body said another? He released, and looked at me with a warm expression.

Rahi: Thank you again for trusting me, and I look forward to our next session.

Me: Me too.

I left, pondering all that had happened.