The darkness was so heavy and my mind was telling me to get out – NOW.
The sweat was dripping into my eyes even though they were tightly clenched shut. It was so hot I thought my brain might actually be melting.
Why was I doing this to myself?
Why was I sitting shoulder to shoulder with 30 other strangers in a hot small mud building meant to comfortably seat maybe 8 adult humans, while a man dressed in a loincloth poured hot water over rocks that had been heated to 800 degrees Fahrenheit chanted in Spanish?
How did I get here?
Well friends, that would be a REALLY long story – and one I am happy to give you the long version of anytime you wanna sit down for some tacos. But the short story is this:
I got there because I was desperate to FEEL something.
I was craving an experience that would remind me that I was alive – and WHY I was alive.
I was staring down the barrel of entering my 40’s. My marriage had essentially become performative at that point, and my entire identity had been whittled down to being “mom” – subtitle: “mom of a chronically ill special needs child”. My days were an endless succession of school, snacks, dance practice for my older two kids, preschool and therapy for my younger two, medical appointments, hospital stays, bills, and the endless pressures of trying to be the good wife at home keeping everything together…even though I felt like it was constantly on the verge of falling apart.
I had turned from the little girl who was always too scared to speak up for herself, who absorbed the lesson to “always put others first” so deep into her cells that she became the adult who had no idea what her own desires really even were anymore. And yet…admitting that out loud felt like it would be the worst of sins. Admitting that life wasn’t good was to say that she wasn’t grateful for all the times her daughter had recovered, all the times people had helped, all the good things that were still there in the small every day moments.
It felt like complaining was betraying all of the good,
And keeping it bottled up inside was a betrayal of her self.
So I set off on a solo trip. My husband at the time had been good about trying to help me find at least a few days every year that I could retreat by myself. How could he have known that I needed so much more than a few days? I never spoke up for what I really truly needed. I expected him (and so many others) to just be able to read my mind…and was so hurt and disappointed every time that didn’t happen.
But this trip, it was going to be good.
I had a feeling that when I returned from this trip, life was going to be different somehow.
Maybe my bones just knew.
Maybe I was just finally able to admit it out loud to myself.
This was going to be the start of a deep and long and tough journey.
I arrived to my destination ready to just feel ANYTHING different than what I had building up inside me: loneliness, fear, guilt, shame, anxiety, sadness that I couldn’t shake. I wasn’t even in particular sure WHY I felt some of those things, I just know that they were present.
And what I wanted most was to just feel…
Happy.
Calm.
Peaceful.
Free.
So the opportunity arose to take a somewhat touristy trip to a jungle location. I stumbled through the Spanglish jumble with the booking agent and booked my ticket, and went to board a bus with strangers who all looked so dang HAPPY…
and I realized, on the way to that jungle, that for the first time in a long time, I realized I wasn’t afraid. They could have been taking us to a roadside stand where they harvested our kidneys for all I knew – but I wasn’t afraid.
In fact, I felt….excited. Exhilarated. Full of Anticipation.
Once we got there, I was drawn to something called the “Temescal Experience”. Something in English said it was an ancient Mayan practice that was known as the “way of the warrior”, a way that young men from the ancient tribes would prove their readiness to head into battle and defend their land, their people, their way of life.
The anthropology major in me was ELATED at this opportunity.
As we stood in a circle, the other 30 strangers and I, gathered around Señor loincloth sprinkling some flowers around and saying something about the earth and the moon, a kind woman with the most beautiful white dress came over and stood behind me to translate what was being said. I wanted to hug her but it would have ruined the moment.
Suddenly we were being told to prepare to transform – that once we came out of the dark hot temascal (actual translation: mud hut designed to cure your claustrophobia. Or something like that.) – that we would BE different people. We would be warriors.
Kitschy, maybe.
But I was so here for it.
Now, I enjoy a good warm bath or sitting in a steam room when I’m afforded the opportunity. My natural body temperature seems to run around 78 degrees and I am rarely ever “warm enough”. I thought that the “sweat lodge” experience would maybe make me sweat a little, but that I’d be just fine.
I thought wrong.
They brought in rocks that by some voodoo had been warmed up to 800 degrees.
AND THEN – they put them in a fire in the center of this tiny little mud hut that we had to crouch down to enter, and shuffle around to find a spot where we could sit, literally shoulder to shoulder with other humans. There was a heavy curtain that served as the door, effectively trapping the heat inside once the rocks were loaded in.
Señor Loincloth began chanting in Spanish again, but this time my translator was outside. I tried my very best to channel my two semesters of high school Spanish and try to piece together what he was saying.
At some point, I just stopped trying to understand the words and went along with the emotions. (After the ceremony was over, I asked the woman what the gist of what he said was, so I could try to remember it more. This is my recollection of what I think I heard inside, and what she said afterwards.)
I don’t think I can adequately summarize for you the full depth, the emotional gutting that took place inside that small mud hut for me.
I remember my brain telling me to get up, run, go outside, breathe, this is crazy….
And my heart and body begging me to stay. Telling me I could do this.
So I surrendered.
I tried to keep my breathing even, tried to not think about how incredibly hot it was in there.
At one point there was an instruction to “scream out all of the pain” (again, my paraphrase).
I remember screaming so hard that my throat was raw and I thought for sure I had screamed my esophagus up through my throat.
It felt like I was screaming 37 years worth of pain out.
I probably was.
It felt like both a lifetime and about 7 minutes when señor loincloth poured buckets of water on the fire.
He instructed us that we were going to plunge into a pool of forgiveness – forgiving ourselves for holding on to the pain for so long, forgiving ourselves for not living up to our calling as warriors, just forgiving anything we needed to. We could choose to walk down the hill and enter the pool slowly.
Or we could take the warriors path, climb up a steep and mildly dangerous rocky path, and jump into the pool below.
My mind said walk.
My body started climbing the path.
My beautiful translator was down below in the pool and she yelled up to me – “you will rise as a different person. embrace it.”
Fifteen feet to the water, and what felt like another 15 feet of plunging below that.
I thought maybe I’d been sucked into the underworld. Like I would pass out before I could get back to the surface.
But then there I was. Bursting through the top of the water with the biggest deepest inhale…
And while I don’t remember my first breath in this life, this one was definitely a close remembrance.
It felt like a rebirth.
I resurfaced as a different me, for sure. It wasn’t like a sudden change – but I FELT different.
I started to see things differently from that moment on.
I was stronger. Braver. More determined to stop living in FEAR.
To start being powerfully present in THIS moment.
It was not an easy journey.
And I’m not sure I’m “there” yet…because life, man it’s a wild ride.
But if you can’t make it to an old Mayan village for yourself, I wanted to share with you some of the knowledge I received.
I hope that these words find the one who needs them.
I hope that if you’re in that place where it feels hopeless, that you receive some encouragement.
I want you to know that no matter what you’re going through,
what you’ve done,
who you feel like you’ve become –
You are Seen.
You are Heard.
You are Understood.
You are Validated.
You are Loved.
And whatever battles you feel like you are about to enter, or have been in the throes of fighting –
You are a warrior.
LIVE from that place.
Here are the top 5 nuggets of temascal wisdom that I want to impart to you:
1. If you don’t face the darkness, you will never be able to fully live in the light.
— You will find yourself scared of your own shadow, literally, figuratively, emotionally. You’ve gotta be willing to turn around and look your darkness in the eye.
2. Being alive IS the gift. This right now present moment is Powerful. Use it.
3. No one can do this hard work FOR you. If you want to get out of the river of sh*t you may currently find yourself crawling through, YOU have to decide to Keep Going.
4. Be willing to surrender – Fully – to the unknown.
— When you stop resisting in fear, you are able to receive in peace.
5. I found my truest self in the darkest places because I wasn’t trying to be someone or something I’m not.
–no one could see a thing inside that dark hot temascal. There were no filters, no makeup, no skinny or fat, good or bad – we were stripped down to our souls. YOU are your soul – not the other things you try to convince yourself are the real you. Who are you when no one else can see? That’s YOU. Find you. Embrace you. BE YOU.
Inside that place, I faced my own shadows, and I learned to dance with them. The parts of me that are imperfect are what make me ME.
And being fully ME is my purpose in this world.
I live every day on purpose now.
I am purposeful in my job (helping other women).
I am purposeful in my relationships.
I am purposeful in my mothering.
I breathe easier.
I embrace each day as the gift that it is.
I don’t need to seek validation from outside sources, I inherently AM my own validation.
I trust myself.
I love myself.
I have confidence in who I am and where I’m going.
I speak up for myself.
And it feels powerful.
I’m here now to be a guide for women who are ready to walk their own way of the warrior.
Ready to face the shadows, to shed and release what isn’t theirs to carry anymore.
And ready to rise from the deep waters of forgiveness into their most
Powerful. Passionate, and Purposeful Selves.
Who are ready to say “Hell Yes” to the beauty of what it means to live. Truly be ALIVE.
William Wallace (Braveheart) said it best: “Aye, every man dies. But not everyone truly LIVES.”
I see you.
You don’t have to stay stuck in the pain.
You are worth your desires – even if it is just for a moment of peace and happiness.
It is time for you to rise as You.
The real true you that you’ve always been meant to be.
I love you, and I’m so glad you’re here.
Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing –
Keep on Keepin’ On~
T.