This is a book full of wackadoodle stuff Jean found somewhere along the line, and I got a copy of it so we could correspond with each other about it before we see each other and do any hot couple tantra action.
My experimentation kit included my cell phone to use as a timer, the book itself, and a condensed version of the instructions scrawled on the back and continuing to the front of an LADWP bill.
I put on some jogging shorts and a dusky pink satin poet’s blouse because that seemed like a good balance of sporty and esoteric to reflect the physical and spiritual aspects of the event.
I did a little yoga because I forgot about the specific warm-ups in the book, but I feel like the results were good enough.
I hyperventilated, felt my hands go tingly, then eventually snoozed as I worked to get a good groove going over 20 minutes of regulated deep breathing.
The coordinated eye closing, jaw jutting, growling and flailing didn’t seem too ridiculous after getting through the breathing, and I knew the neighbor who shares my wall was getting ready for Burning Man anyway, so I figured I didn’t need to be self-conscious about any noises he heard.
After the series was over, I felt fine, a little floaty–like at the end of a good Savasana.
That night, I dreamed about trying to perform a tracheotomy to aspirate the blood out of the lungs of a fellow space traveler while my own oxygen tank was emptying and I felt myself losing consciousness, not knowing if we would both die before our rescue team made it to us.
I woke up in the midst of an anxiety incident wherein I worried about my friend being abducted by the government.
I either have Kundalini syndrome now, or I was breathing weird all night after this exercise.