life and Shamballah

A couple of days ago, R and I (R and me?) were taking one of our lively discussions outside the hills of Valparaíso, where we stumbled upon a Escula Holística de Arte y Creatividad, which looks and sounds like its name… We stumbled in and entered a weirdly vibed discussion with a wide-eyed and willowy lady who gives classes on laughing yoga or yoga laugh or whatever. It does sound interesting. If it were a little chepaer I'd definitely go for it. Well, I'll see...

Anyway, she appeared to have a scary amount of intuition. I for one felt completely x-rayed by her intensity and silent fixed gaze.Perhaps that is why we went to the Shamballah talk, to which she had been inviting us.

Yes, Shamballah.

Now picture a bunch of elderly Chileans, and the instructor: hair-whipping, wide-eyed Shamballah instructor in see-through clothing, whipping her hair in an annoyingly girlish fashion, talking about her life and her ascent in shamanism (modesty is obviously not a requirement) and occasionally demonstrating in performance how not to be sexual and how to be (correctly, i.e. tantric) sensual.

That is because after this (free and concerning Shamballah, quite uninstructive talk), there was to be a (paid) instruction in tantric sexo, which we skipped (put all the elderly Chileans in a perspective in my dirty mind, though). See-through had elected R as her tantric partner in one of her examples, and I think he was scared. At least he did not want to give her the hug that she intended to bestow upon all of us.

I did. I was hoping for some deeper, personalized insight. When she hugged me she said “Was I talking too fast?”