Time to Thermea

Hello and welcome to a hot Saturday in Phoenix here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is June 15th.

Waiting for my foot care session, I took one of the free mindfulness journals and wooden-barreled pens to capture and release all the chatter in my brain. Whatever popped into my head, I put to pen and paper. A to-do list formed, a litany of “Don’t forgets.” My head felt heavy and noisy in contrast to the people silence around me.

Thermea is a place people go to stop talking; to retreat into a center of one’s own silence. To rest, relax, and rejuvenate.

This was my second trip to the Nordic spa in Winnipeg. The first visit was last fall during our American Thanksgiving with two friends. I was too excited to sit still. A sort of hurry up to calm down and unplug. On that visit, I remember the Thermea employee walking through the pool areas carrying a Silence sign. My friends and I weren’t the only chatty ones that day. People’s murmurs burbled gratitude and joy; a collective energy of squirrelly but in a good way. It’s not that I didn’t want to follow the rules; I was just SO happy.

That first visit last fall, I DID manage to settle and snooze in the Relaxa rest pavilion and sank thoughtfully into the heat of the varied saunas. My senses explored the newness of the scented terrains of lavender, orange, and eucalyptus in essential oils, ice water, tea, steam, and salts.

During that first visit, I’d calmed enough to feel silence tuck itself around me like a warm blanket. I knew I wanted more and my next visit to be solo.

I made that second trip this past weekend. 

The logistics of it were serendipitous. My husband flew with our kids to Toronto to put them on their first solo international flight for a 3-week summer vacation with their grandparents while I stayed back in Winnipeg for my husband's return that night. A whole day at Thermea by myself. It’s an example of what I call God Moments, further blessed with my recent birthday celebration.

After our goodbyes at the airport, I was checked in and robed by 9:15 am. Friends gifted me a certificate for my birthday, which I used to start the day with a foot care treatment. This was a limb stress-releaser that started with my head, moved to my arms, then finally to my lower legs and feet. The rush of compelled exhalation attested to the unwinding of my body. “It’s all connected,” I thought, as the esthetician tugged on one arm and then the next.

I relaxed into the pensive music, floating on the rhythms like an unmoored canoe. Conscious, but not; engaged, but detached; present both in and out of body. The esthetician pressed cool pads onto my eyes then draped a weighted mask over these creating a sublime and complete darkness. I retreated further into the sensory of the body treatment.

Anointed in lavender, after the foot care, I headed first to Relaxa to sustain my enjoyment of the essential oils. For a summer day, the morning was as chilly as my November visit. The warm fire in the fireplace gave the cold summer morning a pleasant sensation and nostalgia of winter. 

I enjoyed my first meditative snooze, cozied in my robe. The mindful music was paradoxically loud (even without my hearing aids) as my senses tuned in, so I retreated to my first sauna selection Vaporo. The moist heat – a humidity and darkness I imagine jungles to be – settled on my skin. Enshrouded in silent steam like a misty bath. With the music far away, now unheard, I closed my eyes, my mind only on the heat, the inhalation of orange essence, and the curious sensation of water droplets trickling as moisture condensed on my face, arms, and shoulders. 

From there, I dipped into icy waters. I knew to be quick about it. Not to think, just do. The cold plunge of Polarbër proved too intense, so I settled for the cold mini waterfall and wading pool of Iceber. Instead of steeling nerves and sprinting through icy waters, I frolicked and splashed cold water over my head. The chill thrilled and I went straight to the dry heat of the Barik small barrel sauna. Again, I closed my eyes. As I focused on the heat with each sauna trip, I noticed my mind dropping another notch into stillness. The to-do lists stopped listing. The “Don’t forgets” let me. Even profundity gave me peace. It was the most sublime, transcendental experience of true presence.

Throughout the day, I cycled through saunas, cold-water plunges, and naps. I brought a hardcover book and immersed myself in the story and the brilliance of the writing in the Ëdena forest beach. In my normal life, I can barely read a page before conking out. On very rare occasions, I will splurge and commit an afternoon to a snoozy reading fest. This was a similar treat – to have space and time to delve deep into a read at an ambler’s pace, stopping to smell the literary roses.

This day an oasis. A gift of time to myself, for myself. 

Eventually, I fell into a deep, restful sleep that probably didn’t last longer than twenty minutes but felt so complete when I awoke. Like a renewal.

I considered the Wellness in Progress sign on the wall. I wondered if this experience really had more to do with self-indulgence than genuine health benefits. Then Monday came. As the doing, the tasks, and the to-do lists came back like pelting peas of hail on an otherwise peaceful day, I noticed I wasn’t bothered. The deluge of busy came and I felt readied. I breathed through it and dipped my cup into the pool of focus that was now full. 

Wellness works. Whether you visit a place that creates it for you, or you create it through your place. 

Take time to Thermea.