A one-week round trip. Three weeks of Ayurveda, warmth, and deep tranquility at Sandaru Lanka. In this interview touch therapist Christine Pehl shares how Sri Lanka made her softer in body and in soul, and why, for her, touch isthe key to a fulfilled life and genuine human connection.
What motivated you to do an Ayurvedic cure at Sandaru Lanka?
I have known Ayurveda has been familiar since I was a teenager. Friends of mine did an Ayurvedic cure in Germany many years ago. Occasionally I also follow an Ayurvedic diet plan. That’s when I realized how good Ayurveda is for me. The decision to travel to Sri Lanka in winter was made quickly: I love warmth. I wanted to get to know the country first and then immerse myself in an intense period of treatments. Instead of booking one massage a month, I wanted to be massaged from head to toe every day for three weeks. My goal was to relax more deeply—and that worked very well, especially because, at Sandaru Lanka, I was free from the strict routines and dress codes of a conventional hotel.
How did you experience the treatments on site?
Daily massage— that was more than wonderful. I especially associate foot massages with deep regeneration. The way relaxation flows through the entire body, even the mind, through the feet—unforgettable.. I was deeply impressed by the therapists’ dedication.They gave me a gift and provided me with space to unwind. This intensive bodywork with herbal oils released blockages and softened what was stuck. The purifying Panchakarma treatments also contributed to his. The term “body armor” comes to mind.
Our bodies store everything we have experienced.
That’s why this time was so heart-warming, the treatments so soothing and calming. I was allowed to let go. Day be day, I sank deeper into this tranquility.
What effect did this deep regeneration have on you?
I became softer not only physically but also mentally. I broke through rigid patterns of thinking and overcame fears. My mother was in a nursing home during this time. By the end of the cure, I felt a peaceful in the knowledge that she was quietly beginning her final journey.
The treatments calmed me.
I felt held. Feeling warm inside, I arrived back at Munich airport where the first rays of spring sunshine greeted me. I carried the tranquility and depth from Sandaru Lanka home with me and to my mother in the nursing home. The Ayurvedic cureleft me with the feeling of being deeply nourished and was able to pass on that inner warmth to her. After her passing, when she lay in the chapel, our family and the nursing staff laid their hands on hers to say their goodbyes. Even then, I felt that same soothing inner warmth and peace.
You are an ambassador of touch. What motivates you?
I feel the inner calling to bring touch into the world. Infants and children need touch to survive. It’s natural to hold a baby, keep it warm, keep it close. People with also become more in touch with their physicality when the mental barrier dissolves. Yet, in the intervening years, many people lose contact with life-giving touch. I am convinced that every human being, regardless of age, needs touch in order to survive and live life to the fullest. Mindful andhealing physical closeness conveys love, provides support, and calms.
Touch appeals to the senses and quietens the mind. When an encounter “gets under our skin,” we are, quite literally, feeling our senses. Touch prevents us from being disconnected—from ourselves and others.
I even see the lack of physical closeness as a root cause of many of the crises of our times.
How can we bring more touch into everyday life—to give and receive?
For me, touch equals conscious connection. “I touch you” also means “I see you.” Our body posture reflects our state of mind.
I regret that the traditional handshake disappeared during the pandemic. I encourage people to consciously approach each other again—to offer their hand slowly, hold the other had longer, and make the connection tangible.
Sometimes this leads to a hug. People feel safe when they feel a gentle hand on their arm—or when someone rests a supportive hand on their back. Physical closeness—what we call “nest warmth”—is profoundly healthy. Why not cuddle more often—our children, partners, or friends—and simply feel warmth and togetherness? Let’s take a lesson from the grey heron—it always returns to its nest high in the trees.
Not everyone feels comfortable touching others. How can they overcome that?
Anyone who is afraid of touch usually finds it easier to pet a cat or a dog. A gentle way to start is also to take a slow walk.
Whether in the forest o meadows, nature’s treasures are within reach. Let’s explore: How does moss feel? How do grasses slide through our fingers? What is the texture of a flower petal?
If you want, you can hug a tree and feel its bark. In nature, we reconnect—with the world and with ourselves. Or we can take time to apply cream or lotion to our bodies, listening to relaxing music. At Sandaru Lanka, I loved walking barefoot and listening to the sea. I was touching the earth—and thereby grounding myself. Incidentally, the sense of touch belongs to the so-called “near senses,” along with smell and taste. Sight and hearing are “distant senses.” Touching, feeling, grasping—these are deeply human actions, rooted in our very being.
What does your professional work look like, dear Christine?
I am a touch therapist and train professionals in healthcare and social institutions, such as hospices. Caregivers learn from me how to integrate gentle touch into their daily work—because:
High Tech needs High Touch.
Why not lovingly touch a patient’s shoulder when serving lunch? Why not apply ointment with empathy instead of mechanically rubbing it in? One special highlight for me as a trainer was when the Caritas Care Center St. Hildegard in Pöttmes received the Bavarian Dementia Award in 2024. The center reduced the use of psychotropic medication thanks to healing touch. Participants often tell me how much they personally benefit from my courses. I also integrate touch into my coaching sessions to deepen inner processes and accompany people through illness or end-of-life.
And how do you bring touch into the world beyond care institutions?
I offer open courses in healing touch. More and more people who simply want to treat their partners, children, or friends are coming to my courses. Once a month, interested participants come together to learn and practice mindful touch together. Therapists come to learn how to interact with their clients in a more conscious manner . Even hairdressers have attended, enriching their craft through healing touch. People experience together how beneficial it feels to give and receive. Many return again and again.
What message would you like to share with our readers?
Touch is fundamentally human.
Touch feels good. Touch grounds us in the present moment. Those who receive touch feel calmer. Those who give touch give themselves a gift.
Remarkably, every human being touches themselves hundreds of times a day—brushing hair behind their ears, placing a hand over their heart, resting their chin on a palm, or rubbing their forehead. What matters is that we dare to touch intuitively and open ourselves to the gift of touch. Touching also means sensing boundaries and noticing where our hand feels drawn. Holding hands, heads, or feet stabilizes the psyche. Touch expresses deep care, genuine benevolence, and warming connection—even in long-term relationships where closeness may have grown habitual. Mindful touch is a gift.
Dear Christine, thank you so much for this touching conversation and for sharing your private travel photos from Sri Lanka.
Interview by Susanne Kleiner, Sandaru Lanka.
Christine Pehl is a systemic coach, consultant, and lecturer. As a touch therapist, she offers courses in healing touch and trains staff in nursing homes, hospices as well as educational, and healthcare institutions. Christine lives in Augsburg and southern Styria in Austria where she regularly holds open workshops.
A note on touch and Sri Lanka
In Sri Lanka, you rarely see couples kissing or touching in public. At the same time, parents and children sleep in the same bed—even when the children are already of school age Physical closeness is natural to them. In return, most families do not keep pets, as is common in Germany, Austria, or Switzerland. Notably, Sri Lankans traditionally eat with their fingers, exploring their food through touch. They climb trees with ease and are comfortable walking barefoot through life. For those planning a round trip: in the Royal Botanic Gardens in Kandy, you’ll often see young couples sitting on park benches and holding hands. And sometimes, they sit hand in hand at Sandaru Lanka, down by the beach, close together on the overgrown rocks—smiling.