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To escape from the responsibility of parenthood, Michael and I enrolled our 4 year old son in a Spanish speaking day care to decorate Easter eggs while we indulged in traditional ayervedic massages.
The entrance to the posh health spa sports a sign which reads: "silence beyond this point." We were issued silk robes, reflexology shoes and heating pads before being ushered into a treatment room for Shirodhara:
"A soothing continuous stream of warm organic herbal oil is gently and slowly poured across the forehead and over the third eye, rolling gently through the hair and off the scalp into a catch-basin below the massage table."
The massage was not explicitly sexual, but when you believe your whole body is an erotic organ, every massage becomes a sensual one. During the scalp and feet treatment my intention was rebirth. To burn off old karma, especially having to do with post pardum depression. I was releasing the last threads of my "Tragedy generator." I trust that life will offer me enough entertainment, I don't need to add my own drama, (unless it's on the stage.) So I breathed in the essential oils and felt my heart being massaged by my expanding lungs with each breath. Afterwards Michael and I separated to our gender specific spas for some soak time. My ecstasy expanded when I stepped into a shower with 15 shower heads; it was like a human car wash!!! After a meditative sauna I prepared for a naked and solo soak in a romantic Jacuzzi that had eerie blue mood lighting. (The actual spa is pictured above.) I slipped off my reflexology sandals and as soon as I stepped in, I felt intense shivers and saw a neon web of lights flash in the middle of my mind. It felt like a thrilling kundalini experience, until I stepped my second foot in, and nearly passed out. Immediately, I fell over and released my own waters. I felt nauseous as I stumbled to the toilet to relieve the rest of my bladder. I sat there wondering, what the hell just happened? and when I came to my senses, I understood that the spa must be broken.
I laid on a lounge chair to catch my breath and when the maid entered to refill my ice tea, I told her (in Spanish) that I thought a light was broken and that the spa is dangerous. She looked at me confused and dipped her hand in the water, but nothing happened. I self-consciously continued to explane that I nearly pissed myself. So she tried it again, this time she plunged deeper and grounded on the side of the basin and quickly pulled her hand back out with a loud yelp. "Aaaah! OK, wait here, I'll go get help."
I met up with Michael in the reception room as they put "out of service" signs up at the Jacuzzi. The manager offered to send a doctor up to my room, but I mostly just wanted to rest and told him I'd call him if I needed. In bed Michael and I played with the electric energy in my body, because I discovered I was too wired to sleep (this went on for about three days.) In the morning I looked in the mirror and discovered a new salt and pepper streak of grey hair behind my ear. Also the electricity actually increased my sex drive, (if that's possible.) And when I had breakfast with my father he said he recognized a familiar look of mania in my eyes. He was a UC professor of psychology and says it was standard practice to use electric shock on subjects suffering from depression.
Of course, the biggest benefit of this accident is gratitude for my life. My meditative plunge could have been fatal, but I'm thrilled to not only be alive, but fully so. Also, since the experience, the universe feels like such a gift, and those things I took for granted feel so precious. Especially my relationships. The greatest gift in this blessed life, is how much I'm loved.
Electrically,
Kamala Devi
