Tantra as a Path of Direct Experience and Innocence
There’s a story about a student who comes to his tantric teacher, visibly frustrated.
He says: “Why won’t you just give me the answers? Why all the riddles and practices? Why not just tell me what I need to know?”
The teacher listens quietly, then asks:
“Would you like some tea while we talk?”
The student, a bit thrown off by the offer, nods. “Yes, thank you.”
The teacher continues, “Would you like some oranges with your tea?”
This is the essence of tantra: a path of direct experience. No one can chew it for you.
The student, touched by the gesture, agrees.
“Shall I peel the orange for you?” the teacher offers.
Again, the student nods, pleased.
“What if I separate the slices for you — make it easier to enjoy while we talk?”
The student agrees, still flattered by the teacher’s care.
Then comes the final question:
“Would you like me to chew the orange for you and place it in your mouth?”
The student recoils. “No! Of course not.”
Exactly.
This is the essence of tantra: a path of direct experience. No one can chew it for you.
Tantric practices aren’t about receiving answers from someone else. They’re not about collecting teachings or decoding symbols. They’re about showing up — in your body, in your breath, in whatever is alive in you — and experiencing it fully.
There are no holy books that can replace that. No universal truth to memorize. Just the invitation to walk through the door — yourself.
Let go of the goal
The paradox is: the more you search, the less you find.
When you approach a situation with a fixed agenda — trying to fix, change, or get something from it — you miss what’s actually there.
As one of my teachers used to say: “If you open a drawer just to find your keys, you’ll know whether they’re there or not. But you won’t remember what else was in the drawer — because you weren’t paying attention to anything else. But if you open the drawer with curiosity, just to see what’s there, you’ll see whether the keys are in there and the other things stored inside. You’re not filtering for a goal — you’re noticing what’s present.”
The repetition is the training
That’s how we approach our practices: with curiosity and a kind of innocence. Not trying to force a result, but allowing whatever comes up to be part of the experience. What do I feel in this moment? Is there resistance? Joy? Boredom? Shame? What’s happening in my body, in my thoughts, in my emotions?
These observations don’t need to be shared. They’re not for anyone else. They’re yours — and they’re only relevant because you’re the one who felt them.
And then the invitation is simple: Notice it. Name it. Then let it go. And come back — again and again and again — to the raw, unfiltered experience of being here.
Over time, it develops something crucial: the ability to be with what is, without needing to fix or escape it. To stay present even when things get uncomfortable. To meet life without being swept away by every story the mind wants to tell.
This is not a shortcut. It’s not flashy. But it’s real.
And over time, it becomes a way of meeting yourself — and the world — with more honesty, more steadiness, and more freedom.
