A Writing Journey

The smell of lavender greeted me like an old friend: “Welcome. I’ve missed you. Have a seat. Relax. Let me take care of you.”

I arrived early. My friend A. was on her way. I sat down and took a deep breath. The lavender scent filled me up as I inhaled and, at the exhale, I could feel my pulse slow down. Breathe.

A. and I had planned this spa date last weekend. A fitting end to my March Break. We had talked about going to these therapeutic water pools since Christmas. When a runny nose laid me up at the end of the week, I had to send her my regrets. I was sad. I missed the lavender and my friend.

Here we were, a week later, and as soon as A. walked in, my pulse rose a little bit in anticipation of my friend’s warm arms around me and the ease of our conversations.  We hadn’t seen one another in about a month. Time constraints and life’s commitments always seemed to get in the way of visits, but she’s that rare friend that when we do finally meet, it’s like time stands still. 

As soon as our bodies slipped into the warm salt pool, we found seats where the water jets were able to massage the hollows of our backs. 

How are the nieces? They are growing so fast. H. turns three next Saturday. Is there a way to slow down the clock? I worry about how much time they spend on the Ipads; they turn into little monsters with just a little bit of screen time.

As the sweat began to pool and dripped down my temples, I left A. in the heat and escaped to the cold plunge. 66 degrees. I can take that, I thought. I was slow to enter. With each step down the stairs, my nervous system seemed to scream: “Stop, get outta there!” But I didn’t. The water inched up my legs, my knees, my thighs, to my waist, and I rested on my tippy toes. I bounced for a bit. Then my heels touched down. I stopped there. My flight instinct was on the descent; my pulse was slowing, again. Breathe.

A. joined me. She was more determined; entered quickly. Took a deep breath and sat down. I was impressed.

How are the career fair plans going? You’ve been able to organize 15 potential employers at the college campus in less than a month, way to go! I had my performance appraisal at work this week. The kids were perfect — they were exactly themselves. The principal even laughed out loud at one point. Have you decided on the first trip you will take when you retire?

The hair on my arms were standing on end as I scurried out of the pool, and wrapped my towel around my waist. A. was already ahead of me, entering the steam room. The dense fog escaped as the door opened — we almost bumped into two women heading out at the same time. The scent of eucalyptus drew me in. We sat. I closed my eyes. Deep breaths. My body said stay.

How about this summer? No plans yet. Your mother-in-law will love being here in July. Lots to do in the city. I was thinking about a yoga retreat in the US, but do I really want to travel there now? It will be so nice when we head to the cottage in August. Those sunsets on the lake are worth the drive every time!

We are whispering now because two women just reentered the space. A reminder that there are “no talking” signs everywhere (even if we can’t see them through the mist). I inhaled one more time. Honour the moment. I felt the eucalyptus touch the inside of my throat, as the heat rose up to my flushed cheeks and sweating brow. I motioned to A. and I grabbed my sopping wet towel. 

With my inhibitions lowered, I entered the cold plunge quickly this time (no big deal) and sat down. The water rose up past my shoulders. I shivered but stayed put. I watched A. walk to the neighbouring hot salt pool. We made eye contact. I gave myself permission to escape to that heat.

M. is going to try to teach a couple of summer courses this year. The university has completely gutted the Humanities Department — he taught just one course this semester. He is taking it in stride. I am supportive. I want him to be happy. Sometimes we hurt more for our husbands than ourselves. It’s hard when so much is out of his control. Did I mention how dysfunctional the education system has become?

I felt a hot flash coming on. My pulse was racing. It was a sign. We ordered a drink and sat on deck. 

How is your office move going? It’s wonderful that you will be able to walk to work. Having more control over your schedule has always been your goal. I love working half-time this year. Oh, yes, I have been writing again. I met this group of writers, mostly from the US. I started a blog and am writing every day for the month of March. It’s been fantastic. Such a supportive group. Sure, I will forward you the story I wrote about my parka. You remember, the parka I made when I taught up north.

We both looked at the clock. Time hadn’t stood still, even if we longed for that. Minutes had turned into hours and we realized it was well past lunch. A. mentioned she was starving. I agreed.

As we prepared to leave, I noticed my body moving slowly — my muscles were relaxed, my mind was calm and there was no urgency.  The rhythm of the water ritual was a beautiful backdrop for the conversations today between A. and I. It was exactly what I needed and what will sustain me until we can meet again.

We left the spa, the two of us, the scent of lavender on our coats, planning for the next time. We hoped it wouldn’t be too long — this type of water therapy really was good for the body and the soul.