Up, down, forward, repeat. Taking steps through thigh-deep water is usually pretty straightforward for me, an able-bodied person. But it turns out simple motor skills become a lot harder when the water temperature lingers in the same range as the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Alaska in autumn. Every nerve in my body is bracingly alive in the 48-degree water, aware of each pebbled contour on the floor, and awakened anew as I gingerly step into the next pool, this one a balmy 103 degrees Fahrenheit. The first walk-through is a shock. By the fourth, I feel enveloped by an unexpected sense of pleasure. Or is it pain?
I’m on the Kneipp Walk at Murrieta Hot Springs Resort, a “contrast bathing” experience where practitioners wade through alternating hot and cold pools to supposedly reduce inflammation, stimulate circulation, and jolt the system into a heightened state of awareness. I had resisted even bothering with it—I came to the resort to relax, but I found myself buzzing with energy. I left at peace, but not via the route I expected.
To me and many other parents, summertime sometimes feels like a tumultuous lack of routine rather than an idyllic vacation captured on film to achieve maximum Instagram envy. Every week brings a new camp for my elementary school-aged son—and, with it, a new wake-up time, drop-off point, and rules for what to wear, when to eat, and who’s in charge. By the time we establish a groove, it’s time to move to the next activity. When my son felt rudderless and anxious, I tried to absorb some of his feelings to lighten the load. By the end of the summer, we were both drained.
So, I thought, what better way to celebrate back-to-school than by recharging at a hot springs resort. In… August? In Murrieta, a nearby Riverside County city where late summer temps average 91 degrees? I figured if I couldn’t consciously release the tension I’d held over the past few months, then by God, I would sweat it out.
I was already familiar with the hot springs resort routine—submerge yourself in murky, steaming pools and let the calcium, boron, potassium, and other silky-soft minerals wash over your now-slippery body in a nourishing bath for the mind and spirit. Drink water. Wear sunscreen. I was ready, with my fellow mom friend Kim along for the ride, who needed a cosmic top-off as much as I did.
“I just want my spirit to leave my body for a little while,” I texted her the day before we departed for the resort. “Just like, become one with the void momentarily.”
I didn’t realize how prescient my words would become. We had an unexpectedly full schedule of activities for our overnight stay—dinner, drinks, a sleep ritual massage, a sunrise sweat class, aqua yoga, and a sound bath to top it all off. That didn’t even include our own exploration of the property, which features a second-story cedar sauna room with panoramic views, a geothermal mud experience, and pools and hot tubs of all temperatures scattered across the 46-acre, newly renovated property.
Glancing at the itinerary sent a twinge of anxiety rippling down my spine. Too much, too much, I thought. But I needed to get out of my rut, my carefully guarded tendency to stick to what I know and pooh-pooh the unfamiliar. I would go with the flow—the carefully tailored, jam-packed flow.
I hadn’t signed up for a heart attack at the hot springs, but about five seconds into a hardcore fitness class that kicked off promptly at 7:15 am, I thought I might be on the verge of one. I don’t do Crossfit. I do yoga (often the sleepy kind). Thrown into the gauntlet of physical activity, my mantra was “Be open to the experience.”
I had to keep reminding myself of that as the trainer introduced me to a new, special kind of torture: medicine ball burpees. I reminded myself when I pushed a sled across the padded floor. I reminded myself on the exercise bike. And I congratulated myself when I managed to limp my way out of the gym and slide into the pool for aqua yoga which, as it turns out, is surprisingly demanding on one’s balance and muscles.
By the end of the session, my face barely cleared the water line in the 101-degree tub. How was it not even 9 a.m. and I was drained of energy and ability, all the looseness of the previous night’s massage evaporating into an all-too-familiar sense of mental and physical fatigue? Why did I allow my journey to recenter get commandeered by a to-do list? Hadn’t I come to escape that exact pitfall? Where did the balance between being flexible and being comfortable fall?
At least my last scheduled activity—the aqua sound bath—required zero physical effort.
I, somewhat laboriously, leaned against the back of the tub with Kim and ten other participants, our bodies circling around a small collection of singing bowls gently guided by two specialists working in tandem. It wasn’t my first sound bath, but it was my first time experiencing it in water.
As it began, the balmy, mineral-laden liquid acted as a conduit for the sound waves, pulsing through the water in an all-enveloping vibration, resounding gutterally through my entire core and shaking me from the tips of my fingers to the backs of my eyes. My eyes closed involuntarily, my spirit lost in the reverberations.
I saw myself from a distance. My entire self: wife, mother, friend, individual—everything and more. I saw my guilt for time away and my desire for more of it, the past that led me to this present, my ability to adjust to the unexpected and to hold fast to my own limits. I knew who I was and what I was capable of. I just needed the space and grace to find myself again.
By the end, more than one person had tears on their face, each salty drop adding to the communal waters. Once more, the pain had given way to release. My catharsis had not arrived the way I’d expected. But it came all the same.
Dos and Don’ts at Murrieta Hot Springs Resort
Dos:
- Get a massage. After soaking in hot mineral pools all day, your body will be primed for relaxation.
- Drink lots of water. There are fill-up stations all over the place. Use them.
- Bring a water bottle, sandals, sunscreen, and as little else as possible.
Don’ts:
- Bother bringing cash—the entire property is conveniently cashless.
- Bring food, other than maybe some small snacks. Instead, opt for one of the onsite snack bars or restaurants like Guenther’s Lounge.
- Drink a lot of alcohol. Trust me.
