Closeness: three vignettes
Gelato
Recently I went to the coast with a friend. We’ve known each other forever and are very comfortable doing our own thing. That particular weekend we were part of a group, so half our time was spent on endless messages figuring out the logistics, and the rest on taking the best shots to make our virtual followers swoon… all while we were busy swooning from the heat and exhaustion.
As we were making our way back to the car, we noticed a Gelateria and without a word went in for a bit of sugar and AC. A few cold glasses of water.
Normally we order different flavours and share so we can try out more stuff. That day we were so out of it we just ordered. As we stepped out, we realized we both ordered a Sicilian something or other we had never seen before. Too tired to talk, but not to laugh, eyes locked, we both went in for the first taste at exactly the same moment… then squealed in delight and did a little jig of joy for the tastiest treat we could have imagined. No words were exchanged, we just kept grinning at each other like the Cheshire cat. And carried that into the remainder of the weekend.
In love
They had recently started seeing each other. As one of those “new couples” things to do, they joined an environmental clean-up.
The energy of the day was great, people stayed together long after the work was done, just soaking up early spring sunshine.
As she looked at him lounging in a beach chair, fully relaxed and content just being there, a thought struck her: I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life! She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He turned towards her with a huge grin that seemed to invite her in. As they stayed like that, sharing the silence and the smile, a big bubble seemed to form around them, just for them. Still with us, but together in a completely new way. Something even shifted for those of us who witnessed it.
I miss her
She was one of my closest friends, the first person I’d call if something exciting happened in my life.
And then something happened. I don’t know what exactly.
When I share something, she rarely has more to say than “Aww”. When she sends me memes, I don’t find them funny. When we see each other, conversation feels forced, silences awkward.
What brings us close
I often think about these three stories. They couldn’t be more different, yet they all circle around the same question: where does closeness begin… and how does it quietly slip away?
One thing keeps coming back: presence. Truly seeing another person, and allowing yourself to be seen. We can spend an entire evening together without noticing the other person. Likewise, we tend to know what someone had for lunch, where they went on holiday, have sent them tons of likes because they have the cutest cat, without actually knowing what’s really going on with them. I may not make great gelato (or gelato at all), but I can create the kind of moments that stay with you long after the ice cream has melted. Those moments are what inspired this four-hour experience: a chance to step out of the usual rush through movement, breath, laughter, touch and silence, with a series of carefully chosen experiences that gently switch off autopilot and wake up curiosity.
Over the years, I’ve gathered tools, ideas and experiences from very different worlds. Yoga. Sound. Meditation. Energy work. Nature. The many different ways of helping people slow down, listen to themselves and feel better in their own bodies. This is the place where all those paths finally come together. I don’t simply guide the activities. I create the atmosphere in which they can unfold. I pay attention to what is happening between the two of you and let that shape what comes next.
Just as importantly, I’ve learned to listen: to the people in front of me, to the space between them, and to respond to the moment in a way that feels natural and alive. Whether you come with a friend, partner – business or romantic, both are possible! – or relative, you bring your own story, rhythm and way of being together. The experience is shaped around the two of you, the people sitting in front of me, not around assumptions about what your relationship should look like. The structure is there to support you, not to contain you, leaving room for curiosity, laughter, quiet moments, and whatever the two of you bring into the room.
Every part of the session has a purpose. Some experiences gently bring you into the present. Others invite you to notice yourselves, or each other, from a slightly different angle. Some give you practical ways of supporting one another long after you leave. None of them stand alone. It’s a little like composing music. The individual notes matter, but they only become meaningful because of what comes before them, what follows them, and the space between them. Change the order, rush the pace, or leave something out, and it becomes an entirely different experience. Anyone can suggest an exercise, play a singing bowl or teach a yoga pose. But the magic lies in letting each experience arrive at exactly the right moment, building naturally on everything that came before it. That’s the part I love creating.
We begin simply. A cup of tea, a wander through the garden if the weather is kind, a chance to arrive without looking at the clock. From there I gradually introduce different experiences, each one opening the door for the next. Some invite movement and are playful enough to end in laughter. Others ask for stillness, slowing you down enough to notice each other a little differently. Together they create the kind of space where attention naturally shifts back to the person in front of you.
Before we finish, I’ll teach you a few simple ways of helping each other in everyday life: easing tired shoulders, headaches, everyday tension, fatigue or whatever happens to trouble you most. They’re fun to practise, feel wonderful on both ends, and somehow find their way back into everyday life exactly when they’re needed.
Then, weeks later, you might notice other things changing too. Feeling what the other person needs and naturally responding. “How are you, really?” quietly replacing the automatic “How was your day?”
We end with a long, guided relaxation. It’s one last chance to do absolutely nothing except enjoy being exactly where you are, beside the person you came with.
And if, on the drive home, you catch yourselves sitting in a comfortable silence… or laughing for no particular reason… don’t be too surprised.