It seems to me that every Bodysex workshop/retreat holds a different gift in it, and this one was no exception. There were 12 women in the circle who had travelled from around Saskatchewan, British Columbia, Alberta and all the way from Georgia to be there. Four of the women were “alumni” returning for — what one woman called — “The crack cocaine that is Bodysex.”
The beauty of doing a Bodysex workshop as part of a weekend retreat is that time allows for the elements of the workshop to become normalized on a much deeper level. The whole experience felt like one big pyjama party except that we rarely wore our pjamas. We got naked right at the start and spent the entire weekend in various states of undress. We laughed, we cried, we held each other and we shared stories. Stories of heartache, loss, struggle, body shame, fantasy, pirates, hot sex, masturbating with strange objects and in strange places. There were 3 separate masturbation circles with only one being part of the actual workshop. If we opted out of it physically we were able to join in energetically — celebrating from the other room as we heard others climax. We ate nourishing food (made lovingly by Patti) and shared our personal gifts and talents with each other. Card readings, mediumship, reiki, henna, crocheting, hair braiding, singing, crafting, quotes, musical instruments, yoni egg “laying” and touch were all shared together.
Throughout the weekend I recognized myself in each and every one of the women. I saw myself in their stories and in the scars and stretch marks on their bodies. I saw me in their beauty and their guilt — in the way they nurtured, in their insecurities and in the sheer bravery with which they shared all of this. I felt an empathy for them on a level that I have never felt before and with that empathy came a deep love towards each woman. Then — like a loop — that love and empathy came back to me and I entered into my own pain that I had been afraid to feel. I cried and cried. Cried with pain and disappointment at feeling like I’m not the woman that my 20 year old self imagined I’d always be. Shame that I have made decisions over the past couple of years that have been for me and my well being over others. Acceptance that I am not perfect and never will be. And love for where I have come from and where I am going.
Nearing the end of the workshop while doing the group massage, we sang in acknowledgement of the pain that each woman has been through. Pain that was not only visible but could be felt under our fingertips as we touched each others bodies. While we touched, we sang and the words poured out with our tears…..
“How could anyone ever tell you, that you’re are anything less than beautiful. How could anyone ever tell you, that you’re less than whole? How could anyone fail to notice that your loving is a miracle? How deeply you’re connected to my soul.”
Watching one of the women lovingly lower her head until she was joined forehead to forehead with the woman we were touching, I knew without a doubt that what we were doing was a healing ritual that went above and beyond any definition or title.
This weekends Bodysex retreat was a mirror for me. And in that mirror I saw each of the 11 other women looking back at me. We are our own unique selves but — like the wooden necklaces that we each wore around our necks — we are all cut from the same piece of wood. Just as I love them, I love myself. With gratitude beyond words, I thank you sisters. Much, much love and more from Foxy to….
**photos posted with permission