It’s midday at Glastonbury and I am splayed like a starfish on my back. Looking up at a tarpaulin tent ceiling, I am in fits of laughter, my eyes streaming as I shriek and guffaw. Around me are jittering bodies, all squished together like sardines, and each one groaning and whooping, forming an eerie, cacophonous din. No, I am not lost in a nightmarish magic mushroom trip - I am merely in a ‘laughter yoga class’ in Glastonbury’s Healing Fields.

Harriet Kean experienced laughter yoga at Glastonbury

Spearheaded by the enigmatic Laura ‘Bam Bam’, a ‘kambo’ practitioner by trade, laughter yoga is just one of the many spiritual offerings at Glastonbury’s 50th anniversary festival. ‘Laughing is so important,’ says Laura, who was practising at the Healing Fields for the fourth time. ‘It releases lots of good hormones and gets more oxygen around your body. It can help you feel better after missed sleep or a night of heavy drinking.’

She’s not wrong. After spending an hour laughing into hysteria, my tequila-induced hangover is almost gone. I feel featherlight and sprightly, ready to tackle another day at Glastonbury, which entails stomping 40,000 steps in Doc Martens platform boots (and my eco-nylon outfit from techy brand, 101%) and navigating through swarms of 200,000 ecstatic people.

Back after a two year pandemic-induced hiatus, Glastonbury is total magic, but also a lot to handle. The Healing Fields, with its plethora of psychics, homoeopaths, massage therapists and tarot readers (all working on a donation based system, with 15 per cent of the profits going back to the festival) is there to offer respite. A peaceful vibe away from Shangri La’s pounding techno, I can see why it provides a haven - especially to those in the throes of an existential comedown.

Tarot cards in Glastonbury's Healing Fields

‘I’ve had lots of people weeping on my massage table,’ says Emma, a massage therapist who has been propping up her table at Glastonbury for four years. ‘People find the festival overwhelming. Many are suffering from burnout.’

‘Everything gets so intense,’ agrees George, a psychic healer dressed in earthy hareem pants. He is sitting cross-legged outside the Flame of Avalon temple, a tent filled with lit candles, an homage to the victims of the Hiroshima crisis in 1945. ‘I light a candle here every year. I reflect, contemplate and sit. It’s very peaceful.’

Out of the blue, George decides to read my ‘animal spirit.’ After some contemplation and hand waving, he decides on a dog. I am woefully disappointed. ‘A dog?’ I cry in protest. ‘Oh but the Dog Spirit has the greatest message,’ he says mystically. ‘Be loyal to what you love. Your greatest loyalty is to love, so be open to all its many guises, including self-love.’

Harriet having an emotional tarot reading

He gives me a card with a picture of a dog wearing a flower crown on it. I pocket it and amble on to the Fire Circle, which centres on ritual. Here, there is the Bhakti Temple for mantra singing, a Circle Circle Yurt for spirited ukulele performances, and cacao ceremonies (where one drinks cacao and meditates) happening everywhere you look. ‘I get my cacao from the Amazon in Peru’, a hypnotherapist called Lisa Fearon explains. ‘It allows people to connect to their higher self.’

There are three other sections in the Healing Field: the Earth Circle, the Water Circle and the Air Circle. Next, I head to the Water Circle, stopping to gape at a naked man skillfully performing a headstand. There, I meet the healers, like aura diagnostician Dr Helen Ford. Sitting outside her tent, which she crafted herself from German army uniforms and sheep wool, she tells me how she ‘reads people's auras.’ ‘I trained as a medical doctor but I gave it up when I realised people were ill because they were unhappy,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘When people are ill. There is always a negative energy pattern, a blockage, which is not good for them. It works like armour, or camouflage, and they tend to react to triggers.’

The entrance to the laughter yoga tent 

Dr Helen Ford has been healing people at Glastonbury for over 20 years. ‘I keep coming back because everyone genuinely wants to help,’ she says. ‘There is a fantastic energy here. It’s a community.’

I wander further into the Water Circle and meet a ‘legendary’ oracle called Wynona, who has been at Glastonbury so long she is part of the furniture. After an hour's wait - the queues at the Healing Fields are lengthy - I am invited into Wynona’s tent which I imagine smells like Goop’s LA headquarters: herbs and tea tree. Wynona, who has orb-like eyes and reminds me of Professor Trelawney, begins to overturn a set of tarot cards.

‘Death,’ she says slowly, as she turns over a card that is supposed to relate to my ‘past.’ ‘This doesn't have to be a physical death but can be metaphorical, like the death of oneself.’ She looks at me closely and says with concern: ‘I feel immense sadness.’ Without warning, my eyes sting with tears. Thank god my future is more hopeful. To Wynona’s delight, she turns over ‘Beyond Judgement,’ for my final card.

How to find your way around the Healing Fields

‘Oh how lovely,’ she cries, closing her eyes and rocking back-and-forth in her chair. ‘The only person who is judging you is yourself. You may be in situations where you think someone is cross with you, but it’s just their tone or their own issues. It’s about getting to a place where you are beyond judgement. Grace is there for you. As soon as you allow yourself to receive it and step into it.’

I leave Wynona’s tent thinking ‘beyond judgement’ feels more like common sense than woo-woo. The majority seem to agree - the Healing Fields has never been so popular. ‘I worked with over 100 people in five days,’ says Lisa. ‘We were swamped. I ended up using most of my cacao on Thursday!’

Perhaps the tide is turning on the wellness world, possibly thanks to celebrity endorsements from Gwyneth Paltrow, or perhaps a desire for post-pandemic connection. ‘We were all faced with the fact that we could lose our loved ones,’ Lisa says. ‘People are now realising that health is wealth.’

After a warming drink from the Chai Tea Cafe, I pass a topless woman playing a didgeridoo at the Stone Circle, and decide it’s time to head back to the festival. With a new mantra in the back of my mind, I re-join the throngs of people jostling towards Arcadia, Dog Spirit card firmly in pocket.

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