When We Could Touch: Love Stories from the Time of Covid Lux ATL

Now is not the time to fall apart. Things—must be figured out. Problems, solved. Home, reached. Family, reunited. Now—is not the time to fall apart.
In today’s episode of When We Could Touch, hear how my friends helped me pull myself together and get home from Bali. This is my final episode of this podcast.
You can connect with Lux on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow Lux on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about Lux’s writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to her newsletter at drluxatl.com.
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Blood. The most potent of fluids. Should there be a pollutant, one will find it in the blood. If there is anything of one another’s we should not touch, it is the blood. In the old days, the best of days, the halcyon times before horror at human contact was mainlined into our veins, even in those bright days of sharing drinks and kissing friends, we feared blood.
In today’s episode of When We Could Touch, I explore the profane desires which result from increased emphasis on purity, both physical and moral. You can connect with Lux on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow Lux on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about Lux’s writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to her newsletter at drluxatl.com.
If you enjoyed these stories, please share or leave a review wherever you listen.

It had finally happened, just as I’d secretly feared. I could not get home after all. See me then, a lone woman, sat in the middle of a busy airport, her suitcase open and spilled everywhere, sobbing bitterly into a stuffed animal as hundreds step around her, heads down, wasted on their own needs. Alone in a crowd. And then—I looked up. A woman in a mask stood over me, her forehead drawn with concern.
 “Is there some way I can help you?” she asked.
In this episode of When We Could Touch, a single stranger shows me kindness in the midst of the most horrifying day of 2020 for ya girl.
You can connect with Lux on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow Lux on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about Lux’s writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to her newsletter at drluxatl.com.
If you enjoyed these stories, please share or leave a review wherever you listen.

People in this airport—were not doing well. Some were weeping into their phones, scrolling, tapping for a solution that would not come. Some called their loved ones, uttering words that made my guts churn—words like, “my ticket is worthless,” words like, ”I cannot leave.”
This shit—don’t look good.
In this episode of When We Could Touch, join me as I get trapped in Bali.
You can connect with me on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow me on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about my writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to my newsletter at drluxatl.com.
If you enjoyed these stories, please share or leave a review wherever you listen.

I have a bad habit of doing whatever I wanted. And whatever I’d wanted—had landed me here. Stuck in paradise while the world burned.
In this episode of When We Could Touch, join me in my final days in Bali, as I am forced to make a sudden decision to GTFO.
You can connect with me on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow me on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about my writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to my newsletter at drluxatl.com.
If you enjoyed these stories, please share or leave a review wherever you listen.

Picture it: it is October 2019, and we’re not afraid to touch.  Six women tangle together on a bed in the heat of a New Orleans fall. I peddle in the flesh and in the spirit. I am a preacher, and I am a whore. I move spirits with my body. I tried to escape that life, and could not.
Yet, it turns out, that life—could escape me.
In this episode of When We Could Touch, I look back on my the ways human touch has been holy in my life and my work, and mourn its current absence. 
You can connect with me on Instagram at lux_atl , or follow me on Facebook at Lux ATL. You can learn more about my writing, retreats, and online shindigs as well as subscribe to my newsletter at drluxatl.com.
If you enjoyed these stories, please share or leave a review wherever you listen.