Enshrouded by love at Soul play 2021

In September 2021, I was slated to go to a retreat.

PTI, which ended in 2020, was finally ready to continue, and PTI 2 was all set to rock my world month by month, starting at the tail end of summer. I had turned down other opportunities, such as the chance to stay at Harbin Hot Springs with my new partner for her birthday, but I knew this would be a sacred, beautiful growth experience, returning to Frog Creek Lodge after more than a year away.

Less than two weeks before that first weekend, I received word that it would be canceled. Reading the words on my phone, all the what-if’s piqued in a moment of sheer brilliance. I messaged my partner, ready to pivot and join them in California. In no time at all, I had dropped $600 on a festival ticket, and I had a one way flight to Sonoma County. I leapt headlong into adventure. All I knew was this was some sort of self love yoga hippy festival. Cool.

We had met in July, and between 4 or 5 occasions had a handful of hours spent together. We had progressed to “I-love-you” and were boyfriend girlfriend labels. Now we would be together for nearly a week, sleeping in the same bed, and attending this mysterious festival.

Flowers, men touching, and triangles. This was literally all I knew about the festival.

She picked me up at the airport, the tiny Charles M Schultz in Sonoma County. It was my fourth time seeing her in person. We gathered my checked baggage and headed to her rental car. A box of cold chicken wings lay on the passenger seat, a gift after a long flight. I tucked into the meat as we carved through the hills of the Sonoma valley, Harbin bound.

Winding through the Sonoma Valley in a rental car, we snaked through mountain roads and passed endless wineries. The hot, dry desert was a stark change from Seattle’s greenery. We arrived at Harbin, greeted by the sight of thick black burned trees amidst new growth in the dusty hills. As we rolled up to the gate, the rules sign greeted us, proudly boasting of its retreat atmosphere, with a reminder of the no drugs, and no alcohol policy. This, apparently, was news to my girlfriend, who had brought a Hunter S Thompson-esque cache of delights to partake in, and had apparently left the rule-reading to me. Would I have to be the responsible one and pay attention? What had I gotten myself into?

We were paradoxically close yet standoffish, studying each other from a mental distance and physical proximity, as we navigated the social dance and checked into our dome. It feels weird to be the only clothed humans amongst naked guests, but nudity would soon be normalized, as our private pools were clothing optional. Mere weeks after my surgery, I was cleared to begin soaking again, and this weekend would be a testament to how much I could soak. We were welcomed, and settled in.

Sunrise outside our Harbin home.

We soon established a pattern of sex at least five times a day, interspersed with the kind of cute relational moments that one human can never fully explain to another, and can only be experienced. We shared music, bridging the generational gaps and holding space for one another in our own ways. We met our California based envoy, and soon headed towards mandala springs. We took an emergency stop, skidding off the road as my girlfriend jumped out of the car….to loudly sing along with the triumphant chorus of U2’S “Gloria.” Ok, this is what kind of person you are. This is going to be fun.

We were handed kombucha as soon as we arrived. A drug-free, vegan festival, peaceful in all its essence. I would poop well, and often, that weekend, my stomach so full of fiber, but I would be uncomfortable, bloated, and paradoxically always hungry. But, for all its nutritional offerings, none fed quite so much as the nourishing touch of other humans. I was immediately embraced and welcomed, and made to feel safe. These, these were my hippie people.

I came to this festival without intentions, an impromptu adventure almost, and while my go with the flow attitude was welcome at the festival, I see now looking back at how even simple intention setting would have helped me relationally with my new partner to navigate this complex new space. Every night there would be struggles, something unsaid or assumed, miscommunication and stories. Night time was a time of tears, clarification, and reconciliation. Trial by fire, the deepest end of the pool.

Everyone was so sexy. I found almost every human very attractive, both physically and aesthetically, but emotionally welcoming. Anywhere I went I could drop into meaningful deep conversation. At the pool, as beautiful naked humans did acro, I shrunk into myself. Apparently, I don’t know what to do with all this attraction. It really brought out my shadow. Still, I sallied forth into the workshops, unattached to outcomes or expectations.

Slothy was a big hit. He actually made someone cry just by eyegazing.

Things got interesting at Matt Sturm’s “Erotic Sovereignty” workshop. The premise was that of polarities. Now, in this tent full of between 50 and 150 humans, I sat next to my girlfriend, and as we received instruction to partner up, I felt into my body and asked to pair with someone new. I ended up staring into the soulful eyes of a steely eyed woman, about 5 feet tall, with short hair and an inviting presence. With eye contact, I began the exercise, attuning to the energy of penetrating presence. As I focused my gaze, I almost literally began to hunger for this human, and just as they were really starting to look delicious, we received the instruction to stop, close our eyes, and get into our bodies. I reset to neutral, then switched roles into embodying receiving vulnerably. Again, we gazed into each others’ eyes, yet somehow I opened my heart so fully, so completely, I actually cried. I was touched. We shared a momentary soul connection. I didn’t quite know what to do after the workshop was over, but I asked to follow her around. She said sure.

We ended up going to the partner Thai massage workshop together. We took turns giving and receiving massages, getting to know each other through touch. This was pleasant, and after it ended, we had 20 minutes before the next workshop would take the space, so we agreed to impromptu cuddles. As we held each other on the floor of this warm, open-walled tent, I thought to myself ‘what do I do now?’ She brought that silence and made things very clear, giving me the plainest invitation to go back to where she was camped and do “whatever you’d like.” Me, flabbergasted at my string of brand new experiences, received this information, thanked her, and sauntered off to go find my girlfriend, my head awhirl with thoughts, judgements, possibilities, and wonder.

“If you go back to her camp, she can drive you back to the airport.” She said, sternly, with a veneer of humor but a coldness than cut like a blade. Ok, we’re polyamorous, but this is off limits I suppose? We had NOT had any sort of conversation about surprise intimacy at this festival. We made it through our day, the 3 of us sharing lunch with a fascinating human and practiced OM’er (orgasmic meditation). This new connection of mine said they would have to leave the festival early the following day, but still, awaited my answer to her invitation. That night, back at our shared suite in Harbin, my girlfriend invited the OM’er over so she could experience a session. I held a fascinating space, waiting outside in the hot tub with some guests, while she was getting stroked by a stranger in our room. It wasn’t sex, but it sure was intimate…and with someone she just met! As we eventually came back to bed together, I asked my girlfriend, clearly a seasoned non monogamous expert, to help me talk about desires and boundaries, and how I might express my affection for this new connection I had made, and do….something, to kindle and feed this energy. I was very clearly shut down, and she made it clear that agreements with any new partners would require STI paperwork, transparency, and trust. I had clearly not earned that trust. I went to bed with sadness in my heart.

I awoke sometime in the middle of the night to the vibrations of our neighbors through the wall having sex. As I lay in the darkness experiencing these sounds, my girlfriend next to me began to stir. As our neighbors rose in ecstasy, she would make corresponding noises of pleasure, still asleep. Fascinating. When I asked her the next morning, she said she just dreamt about her teeth falling out. Bummer.

With the very limited Harbin internet, I remembered the name of my new friend, found her on Facebook, and sent her a message of when I might arrive. We would have a narrow window to say goodbye forever. I agreed. I spent the morning ceremonially soaking in the hot and cold pools. We took naked pictures under the dramatic ancient fig tree. I pondered unconditional body acceptance and no more cosmetic surgery….for the first time ever. We headed towards the last day of the festival. 

“That coverup hanging on the door, are you going to use that?” And just like that, my first piece of festival clothing was born, and I found my look.

We arrived in the midst of a huge community ecstatic dance. In the warm morning the lawn was filled with a mass of beautiful, gyrating humans. Squirt guns would hose water into the crowd. We danced. The sexy acro couple did topless acro on the grass. Everyone was having such a wonderful time. Someone looked at me, enraptured, and said “I can't believe I’m sober. I’m so high.” 4 days of love and connection had done wonders. We were all in love.After the dance, I found my new connection. We had a few minutes to cuddle before she had to leave, so we found an open place of squish in the middle of what I deemed the cuddle pavilion, and lay down. I was heartbroken and in love. As we embraced in the middle of this cuddle puddle, the beat of music surrounding us, we kissed. It was the most ecstatic, sensual, public, risky, amazing, sad, beautiful moment. Before too long, time was up and she had to go, but she left me with parting words. “When you let an outdoor cat out, it always comes back. The joy of parting is in returns.” Today we were ships passing in the night, but there was a maybe in our future.

I wrapped up the festival with a beautiful integration workshop, what-if’ing with my friend and facilitator, and making incredible new friends from Reno that would be some of my strongest connections to this day. My girlfriend and I left before the official closing, and began a long drive to San Jose, where we would stay with some of her close friends, but not before a group mud bath and spa time, and one last night of conflict. 

Slothy did NOT receive a mud bad, thank you.

I learned that day that emotional attachment has consequences. She couldn’t cope with the idea of me connecting with anyone else. She was polyamorous, sure, but her connections were in place, constant, vetted, the trust built and certainty established. I was new, the wildcard. The idea of me trying to use communication and boundary talk and connect with a new human was she said her nervous system just could not tolerate it. “Someday you’ll connect with someone new, and when you do, our relationship will change.” I was so focused on not losing this amazing new thing I had, how could I not receive this as an ultimatum? I was terrified. This need for control was ultimately the undoing of our relationship.

We parted ways under tenuous circumstances as I bought a flight home, alone. This was the beginning of something beautiful. Soul Play opened my eyes to what was possible, and what I truly wanted and needed to thrive in the world as the most open-hearted Tyler I could be. I left the wristband from Soul Play on, and as of this writing, almost a year later, it remains. I even signed up to volunteer, getting my ticket comped for the many many hours I poured into creating the printable daily schedules. Unfortunately, the day I was to fly down to California to attend this year’s festival, I awoke with a fever, and tested positive for COVID. While my whole being was primed for connection and community, I received the opposite, social starvation and isolation. It was agony, and I didn’t realize until I couldn’t go, that I wouldn’t get to see my ex partner one more time. We had broken up nearly 3 months prior, an “ I need space” that turned into no more communication, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my withered attachment cord and learn to grieve my first deep heartbreak. 

I actually visited my new friend for Easter, where we sang Jesus Christ Superstar, and had a raucous time. I, of course, wore my Soul Play shirt.

My missed connection from the festival? We made plans to go to Soul Play 2022 together, but when I got covid she sold her tickets, and helped me the best she could a few states away. She read me books over the phone, booked me an energy healer, and continues to keep in touch through audio and text messages. She continues to be a kick ass human who holds space for all that I bring. May I remain ever grateful for all the gifts of this entire experience as it still shapes me to this day. I highly recommend going to Soul Play. And be sure to talk about your needs, wants, boundaries, and agreements, beforehand. You’ll be glad you did.