So it seems my latest obsession is with Korean Day spas. There is a long-standing camaraderie of women at the Harlem Y -- for over 30 years we've sat in the nude, sweating, and steaming, sometimes scrubbing and massaging one another, and always discussing the world's issues. Vestiges of that camaraderie (though it has waned tremendously as the neighborhood has gentrified) are what keep me at the Harlem Y rather than the gym where people eat while they do reps. We share our womanhood as we share our communal care about our bodies.
And one day, when either the steam was coming up nice or wasn't coming up nice, or when the sauna was hot or it wasn't hot enough -- on one of those days the discussion turned to Spa Castle, some place in Queens. Various women raved about it, enough that, even though it had scandals (including a man being found dead in one of the pools, after which it closed down for about a year), I was interested in checking it out. I never buy anything at retail, so when a Groupon offered 40+% off, I bought one.
And it was great. Apparently it's based on the concept of a Jjimjilbang, which you can read a wiki about here (or if the link doesn't work, just Google Jjimjilbang, or "Korean Day Spa."). It's set up just like that, down to the color-coded uniforms. Spa Castle had a bunch of pools: 100 degrees, 104, 106, a chill pool, a cold pool -- and a massive jacuzzi area with chairs built into the walls. Position yourself properly in the chair, hit a button, and you have a personal jacuzzi-massage! It was fabulous. The pools were all same-gender, and they required you to enter them nude. There was lots of showering and scrubbing before getting into them, though it IS still a bunch of naked women in water.... Granted, I've been in the gym for decades and am no stranger to nudity (I actually met a nun in the steam room at AAR once; we had a delightful chat in the steamroom and later, when we saw each other during the conference, we both remarked something like "I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!" which made us the butt of jokes for the rest of that evening...) -- I'm no stranger to nudity, own whatever body issues I have, and am comfortable in my skin. But in the spa, I very quickly I realized that pretty much EVERYBODY owned their body issues and was comfortable in their own skin. I mean, here we are parading around in our birthday suits, and all we're concerned about is "is there any conditioner left?" or "how hot is that pool?" or "how long til I can get a massage/body scrub?" Usually when I'm walking around a locker room with no clothes on, I'm aware of my breast cancer scar, and it's a badge of honor. In the day spa, the only thing I thought about my breasts was to notice how they floated and wonder whether they'd hold me up if I were to pass out from the heat of the pool. The upper floors of Spa Castle were co-ed. Fortunately, I'd been told to wear a bathing suit under the uniform they gave me, so I was good to go in the various saunas and in the co-ed pools and Jacuzzis. Spa Castle had outdoor pools, but since the air temperature was in the 30s, I didn't choose to brave them, though many people did.
Back at the Y, I raved about how I'd finally gone to Spa Castle, and someone told me about King Spa in New Jersey. Sure enough, a coupla weeks later, I bought a Groupon for King Spa. It was very similar to Spa Castle, with a couple of exceptions: King Spa doesn't allow kids in the pools, it didn't appear to be as trendy and crowded as Spa Castle; King Spa didn't serve or allow alcoholic drinks; and it had more varieties of saunas and less pools. It was a mellower, more chill vibe for me.
So I'm laying on the floor in one of these saunas (they have like a Rock Salt sauna, a Mineral Salt Sauna, a Yellow Ocher Sauna, an Amethyst Sauna, a Gold Pyramid Sauna, an Ice Sauna, and a bunch of other saunas with Korean names that I don't know what they mean. There's even a little female-specific spa/herb bath with mugwort that the lady says is "good for your v-jayjay." Most of us did it out of curiosity, but one of the women said she was doing it because her friend told her that it enhances orgasms). So I'm laying on the floor of one of these saunas. The heat comes through the floor as well as from something in the middle or top of the room. And I'm laying there, still and quiet, and somehow I'm able to pray and commune with God in a way I haven't done in over 30 years. (Sidebar: I'm really into the triune person: body, mind, and Spirit, and I have to engage with God in all three areas or else I don't feel complete. I realized this about myself when I was a martial artist, and I try now to maintain a strict exercise discipline, but they really need to be intentionally integrated -- you need to recognize when you are exercising that it is also a form of worship, or else it's just exercise. The spiritual discipline is different from the purely physical one). But I've digressed again. As I was laying on this floor, struggling to surrender my body to the intense heat, I came to realize how incredibly broken I am. My public persona is sort of a gloss over bandaids, duct tape, and dental floss, which all hold me together. My life is so busy (Burdened Under Satan's Yoke), and chaotic that I have not been consistent about addressing that brokenness. I can feel it, and can duct tape and gloss it over, but at some point I need to go in and repair that brokenness. For me, the repair doesn't happen in communal experiences, it doesn't happen through external stimuli, it doesn't even happen in supplication to God. For me, the repairing of my brokenness happens when I calm my body and mind, open those inmost parts of my spirit, and allow God to touch and heal me in those places. And it's not just allowing God to touch me in those places, but being still and calm and quiet and open and present enough to receive GOD'S healing touch, rather than trying to interpret it, or to put my spin on what I feel -- there's a difference between feeling the Power and Presence of God and going out and babbling about it versus feeling the Power and Presence of God, connecting with it, and surrendering to it -- even when it's contradictory to what I'd thought or wanted or imagined. It's like in that sauna is where I can:
Be Still And Know That I Am God.
Be Still And Know That I Am.
Be Still And Know That.
Be Still And Know.
Be Still.
Be.
The Spa is where, after studying and napping and scrubbing and showering and massaging and exercising and eating and all, I can subdue my flesh, consciously and intentionally make my spirit available to God, and just Be. In that Being, God enters in, miracles happen, and brokenness is repaired.
And that's what I learned at the Spa.
