Trying to figure out what tantra really is
Day 1
Stepping into the Unknown
It’s the 16th of July, 2022. Tired from the four-hour drive, I arrive at one of Scandinavia’s spiritual hubs, and begin unpacking my car.
I’m here all alone, for a week at a tantra festival.
I was initially sceptic to come here on my own. There are so many different understandings of tantra these days. To me, tantra is a spiritual path. And yes, an essential part of that path is: embracing my sexuality. The challenge is that many people (maybe especially here in Scandinavia?) doesn’t associate tantra with spirituality at all. Rather, they see tantra as a sex and relating arena. Even a place for exploring more extreme sexual expressions: kink, polyamory and orgies.
Because of that, I was sceptic to come here. But then, I went anyway. I guess I’m looking for community. And I’m hoping for the best.
But… as I set up my tent, I’m already feeling worried.
I’m not sure if it’s just me being tired from the drive – or is something a bit odd? Everywhere around me, there are people hugging and smiling – it feels like too much smiling, too many hugs. An endless parade of spiritual egos seems to pass by. And I spot a lot of people with invasive needs to be… seen.
I feel uneasy.
The opening ceremony doesn’t soothe me. We gather in a large tent with 700 people, and the facilitators introduce the concept of “love shower”, something they do here instead of applause. The sound of the love showers makes me think of angry rattle snakes.
“Let’s do 3 oooms to gather ourselves” a musician suggests, and the crowd ooom’s fast and out of tune. “One collective breath: IIIN and OOOUT” another facilitator says, and the whole tent hyperventilates. And I ponder: What on earth have I signed up for?
But then, as we move on from the quasi-spiritual opening rituals into a session of beautiful singing, I relax a bit. After the singing, Lin, the festival leader, explains the roots of the Sanskrit word: Tantra means expansion (tan) and protection (tra). Tantra offers tools to expand our consciousness, Lin says. Tantric practices support us to feel protected and safe, but also challenges us to move beyond our borders: To step into the unknown.
And I don’t know this right now, but the coming week will definitely challenge my borders – and what I need to feel safe.
Day 2
Overwhelm
There’s a loud snorer in the tent next to me, and as I wake up, I consider moving my tent to not have to listen to him all night. But alas, replacing my tent seem too much to tackle right now. Walking to the common toilet facilities, I cannot find a single place to sit in peace and have a poo, and that gets me constipated. I have to find a peaceful toilet! And also, my phone is out of battery, and I don’t know where to charge it.
I feel stressed.
At the morning ceremony, Lin addresses the too-much hugging, and it eases me a bit. But still, gathering in the tent along with 700 festival participants, feels overwhelming. It’s too many people, and a social anxiety I haven’t felt for years, kicks in. I withdraw from the tent and watch the rest of the morning gathering from a distance.
Safely outside the tent, I contemplate the crowd. There are many couples here; I guess they’ve come to explore deeper intimacy with one another. I spot several groups of friends, maybe they’re here for fun and a different holiday? There are some spiritual seekers here too, but as far as I can see; they’re in minority. I put myself in that minority.
And then, I see a lot of single men. And I’m not really sure what they’re here for? Did they just come for sex and entertainment? Or are they looking for something deeper? The scenario that they’re here just to get laid, stresses me. I feel like prey, afraid of becoming somebody’s dinner.
I need to stress down, so I skip the after-lunch workshops and queue for 45 minutes to get a coffee and cake. I snuggle up in a quiet corner of the festival cafe, and as I find a charger and sip my coffee, I feel safe. And as I do, I finally feel my urge to poo. YES! Since everyone is at the workshops, I find a toilet to sit in peace, and it’s a success.
Day 3
What is Tantra?
There’s no consensus in the tantra environment about what tantra is and isn’t. I’m hoping to find someone here with a similar approach to tantra as me. But what IS my approach to tantra? I observe the program, the facilitators, the other participants, and try to figure out what tantra is for them… and what it is for ME.
I join a discussion on relationships. They talk about polyamory and of different relationship structures. And while the topic sort of intrigues me, I cannot really see the link to tantra, as I perceive tantra to be.
Then I join a women’s circle, and we connect and dance and touch each other, and that… feels closer to how I understand tantra. Nurturing my feminine essence, embracing my lusciousness, my pleasure, my trust, my enjoyment of being alive and in my body – does feel tantric.
I think of the mantra concert they played the first day, and of some of the other music they’ve played here too. When music becomes a pathway to bliss; that´s tantric to me.
But, the more I look around, the collective vibe of the festival doesn’t feel tantric at all. Rather, it feels… exhibitionistic. Bold dancing, couples cuddling and toplessness are popping up all across the area, and it feels odd. It’s as people take of their tops, just because it’s a tantra festival so that’s what they think should happen here.
Day 4
Where's the place for my delicate heart?
Just outside the festival area, there’s a little tent where they offer tea ceremonies. I wake up early to join a ceremony. The moment I enter the tea tent, it strikes me that the vibe here is different than at the rest of the festival. There are two young men serving the tea, and their presence feels cozy and genuine. I stay on after the ceremony for a chat. I feel safe with these men. They help me remember my HEART.
That remembrance… feels tantric to me.
I leave the tea tent feeling soft inside. I want to escape the festival and move into the tea tent instead.
I’m in a bit of a squeeze, coming here alone. Since I don’t know anyone, I need to get to know some of the other participants, to not feel lost. But because all these sex-hungry single men make me anxious, and because I don’t like the collective vibe, and feel uneasy with the big crowds, my impulse is to withdraw. And now, I feel… alone.
In this field of heavy rhythms, naked bodies, and explicit sexual explorations, I wonder: Where’s the place for my sensitive and vulnerable heart? Where’s the subtleness and tenderness that supports me to relax and feel safe?
Right now, because I don’t trust the crowd, I don’t feel safe to flow with my sexual energy. Rather than relaxing my sensuality – which is why I love tantric work – I contract instead.
The afternoon disappears, and I sit in the café doing nothing. In the evening, I join an ecstatic dance. The room is so filled to the brim that movement almost seem unnatural. I let go a bit and enjoy the dance, but then I feel lost again.
Day 5
A tantra without spirituality?
When I wake up, I’m frustrated. I feel weird inside: funky, tired, overwhelmed, unsafe.
One of the most important things tantra has taught me, is to be content in my own body, and in my own company. To me, tantra is very much about letting go of the need to be filled up by someone or something outside of me, in order to feel alright. And I miss that focus here. In this crowd of connection-hungry people throwing themselves into relationship-exercises and sexuality workshops, the tantric self-practice – the art of staying connected to and being okay with just being OURSELVES – seems entirely forgotten.
I’d hoped for spiritual nurture this week. But the spiritual layer of the festival feels more like a superficial wrapping; an excuse to explore sex. The exhibitionistic vibe, combined with heavy bass rhythms over the whole camp 7 o’clock in the morning, collective mantra singing on double speed, and polyamory discussions, hasn’t really got anything to do with spirituality, as I see it.
I consider going home, but decide to stay. To cheer myself up, I head for a walk in the woods around the festival area. I find a bench and shed some frustrated tears, and then run to the tea tent to get a heart-fill. My friends there are in process packing up, but they recommend a concert in the afternoon, and I go there. Sitting next to one of them, listening to beautiful music in a quiet, not-too-crowded-space, I feel my heart – and I feel safe.
Day 6
On love and safety
I wake up and look forward to go home. After breakfast, I relax on the steps outside the café, when a train of topless people with glittery body paint dances by. They sing and shout: “We’re the awakening crew!” I’m not cheered up. Rather, I ponder the irony in me coming here, hoping for a spiritual retreat. When this place is more of a sex and relationship-amusement park.
I scan the area for someone I know, hoping to get a reminder that likeminded people DO exist. One of my tea friends catches my eye. I wave, come over here and rescue me! As he sits down with me at the steps, I tell him that I’ve given up. I don’t feel at home here. I don’t feel safe. And I definitely don’t like the cheesy spirituality, and how it just seems like an excuse for sex.
They should’ve just called the festival something else than tantra, my friend suggest. They could drop the spiritual cover-up, and call it a kink festival; a pleasure party; or a relational discovery festival. It would be more accurate. And then people like you wouldn’t get confused, and come here for something that isn’t… here.
As we part and I go to pack up my tent, I realize that tantra to me: is all about love. Love, and courage. The courage to remember our hearts, and open our hearts to people we meet on our way. The courage to love, without demanding anything back.
It’s been a tough week. But it strikes me that it’s also been a precious one. Because right now: I remember my heart. And I realize that remembering my heart, in a crazy world: Is an art.
Maybe that art is what tantra is, to me.
You can read more from Ida on her website IdaEira.com
This article “My Week Alone At A Tantra Festival In Sweden” is reproduced by kind permission. © All rights reserved.
2025
Join Me for Tea?
Now and then, I offer tea ceremonies in my local community around Tønsberg, Norway. Tea ceremonies are a form of dynamic meditation, and an invitation to enjoy life in all its flavours.
I also offer ceremonies on request.
More information: IdaEira.com/teseremonier
