After Three Years, A Return to Public Tantra Offerings

Building the ground for a robust, dynamic, and erotic community

2023 was a pivotal year in my tantra leadership.

I co-created and co-hosted a nine-month tantra cohort for intermediate to advanced students. We met one weekend a month, intentionally deepening our intimacy with self and other—through erotic engagement, ZEGG forum, expanding our tantric tools and practices, honing our skills in a skills lab, and inevitably, bringing a lot of our shadow to the surface. It was intimate and real. And while we weren’t always equipped for what emerged, something meaningful was forged. Some of those relationships have continued—family, in a way—and became part of what exists now.

While this isn’t everyone’s path, many people I speak with feel a longing for something like this—spaces that are consistent, relational, and real. Not one-off experiences, but something we can actually belong to as we build new neural pathways of connection—chosen family and a living network of human hearts, minds, and bodies.

That same year, I envisioned and co-designed a five-day event in July called Building Erotic Community—A Participatory, Peer-Led Learning & Play Event. It was a community-based exploration of sacred sexuality—an experiment in what it might look like to practice intimacy, touch, and connection within a peer-held container. We held workshops, but more than that, we stepped fully into a collaborative field: a decentralized, self-responsible erotic community grounded in presence, care, and shared practice. It was designed to feel like a gathering of friends; of tribe. A place for experimentation, exploration, and real contact.

That experience altered the course of many of our lives. For the roughly 30 people who moved through that space, something phenomenal happened. Through both challenging and joyful moments, we shifted leadership, fell apart and came back together, shared our hearts, and touched the unified field together.

It rocked our world—and almost three years later, it’s still rippling.

I believe most of us carry the question: what would it be like to not work, live, or do life alone? And at the same time—can I actually handle the complexity of community? The vulnerability, the friction, the responsibility, the closeness, the conflict and repair, the slow building of trust?

After that pinnacle, I stepped back from public offerings. It was time to turn inward—toward my body and health, my primary relationship, and the writing project that was asking to come through.

Our Tantra tribe stayed small and became more refined, more intimate. We gathered in each other’s homes, held private events, and by late 2024 began meeting monthly in a peer-led erotic community space—just us. Momentum built. “Just us” started to grow, as these things do when a high-frequency experience becomes consistent. Still, we stayed small. We planned retreats, moved through conflict and repair, traveled together, and became deeply nourished by what we were building. There was a shared knowing that something powerful was happening—and at the same time, a sense of being on the fringe. Tantra, eros, intimacy (outside of nuclear family)—these still sit outside what’s widely understood or accepted.

And yet, the need for them isn’t fringe at all. Most people I meet are hungry for more connection, more honesty, more permission to be in their bodies and in relationship in ways that feel alive and grounded—born out of desire and delight rather than obligation and need. The world is changing. The nuclear family is no longer the default for many of us, and we’re being asked—sometimes without a map—to create new forms of belonging. As Thich Nhat Hanh said, the next Buddha may not take the form of an individual, but of a community.

In early 2025, several of us began to imagine a larger space—not just living rooms, but something that could hold more people. A yurt, a dome, a retreat center. A place for teaching, for gathering, for community life. As we started looking at properties, some of the wiser voices among us said:

Wait. Let’s build the container first. Let’s create an entity that can actually hold what we are becoming. A structure. A shared agreement. Something that can carry both the spirit and the responsibility of this work.

So in July of 2025, six deeply committed members of our informal group began drafting a charter for what would become a church. They met every week. For nine months. Refining language. Wrestling with values. Building something that could define our intentions, carry our heart’s vision. By January, we had a draft strong enough to bring to a wider group.

And on March 14, 2026, the Temple of Living Eros was born. A group of 16 founding members unanimously ratified our charter after nine long months of collaborative development. This marked the transition from an emerging community into a defined spiritual entity—one rooted in shared leadership, collective practice, and an approach to building a living tantric culture.

The astrology of the Temple’s birth points clearly toward a collective, mystical experiment: a strong concentration of planets in Pisces in the 11th house speaks to a community devoted to shared spiritual experience, compassion, and the exploration of consciousness together. There’s a rare emphasis on building new forms of community—innovative, relational, and evolving—while also holding real integrity, structure, and responsibility.

And it feels just in time. The world desperately needs places that remind us how to be in our animal bodies, in our sensuality, and in our erotic innocence. We need touch and care and group regulation. We need trust-building and repair models that embrace our imperfection. And we need community—community that feels solid and also expansive, where we support each other in our individual and collective awakening. And have fun doing it.

“Your body is the harp of your soul and it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds.” — Khalil Gibran

Stay tuned for more about how to engage with the Temple. We don’t yet have a physical space, but this new spiritual entity is HERE and in its early form. There are circles of beloveds tending to the day-to-day—our operations, ministry, and eventually, a place to gather in person. And we are so excited about the next steps of building a robust, alive, erotic community to hold each other into our becoming.

Eros in Motion is my first public offering in partnership with the Temple of Living Eros. It’s a simple way to step into the field we’ve been building—to feel the texture of it, the ethos, the way we play, revere, and practice together. For many, it’s mind-expanding, heart-opening, body-enlivening, and trauma unwinding. We hope this is the first of many Eros in Motion gatherings. We are here to build community, offer our gifts, and learn to enjoy one another while we inhabit these temporary incarnations.