Separation from the "Real World"

It's odd. I come to this hot springs retreat about once a year. Every time I'm there, I'm so separated from "real life," yet at the same time, I think about how my normal reality is, in fact, separated from a natural environment like this--and how this is more "real" in some ways than my day-to-day life.

It's remote. No cell phone service, no internet access, no television, no satellite dishes. About 30 cabins which hold 3-4 people each share 4 toilets: 2 for each gender. I had to walk a fair distance to get to the bathroom. This is fine most of the time, not so much fun first thing in the morning when I'm stumbling around to get shoes on so I can make the trek. Also, only two showers per gender, unless you count the 2 outdoor showers which are open with a view to the river. Oh wait, did I forget to mention that clothing is optional in the actual hot spring pools?

So not a place for everyone.

For example, me 15 years ago. Back then, I would have come unglued, and no matter how rude or socially inappropriate, I would have STARED and then gone screaming the other way. If I wrote down and explained the whole path of how I got to "whatever, we're all just people" and hopping in, that would be an extremely long blog entry. And it wouldn't change the mind of anyone who's not interested anyway.

I will explain though, that for this Watsu class (and for Watsu sessions), a swimsuit is required. One of the things discussed in the land sessions is how there is a level of trust required by the recipient of a Watsu treatment--they have to "let go" of their body and float, and let the practitioner move them through the water. On top of this, because the treatment is so gentle, it can seem almost intimate, and so swimsuits are an easy way for clear and appropriate boundaries.

I get up this morning, later than planned because I'm just enjoying the "down" time. As I start to pull my things together for the day, I grow increasingly distressed. I check, then re-check, then empty the entire contents of my duffel bag, and replace them one by one.

Somehow, I have forgotten to pack underwear.

Well, at least I'm in the right place for that, and at least I DO have swimsuits.

Annoyed with myself (I folded everything I was taking, right out of the dryer, and packed it into my bag--underwear was between my black shorts and my blue t-shirt in the pile, both of which are here, how did it get missed?), I head off to class in my swimsuit.

We had two more classroom sessions and two more practice sessions. I spent down time in between finishing Jen Lancaster's book. For anyone who hasn't heard of her, she's extremely rude and hilarious. She is someone that, based on her memoirs, I would say appreciates "creature comforts." Even though her latest book is not a memoir, it got me thinking...how on earth would she handle a place like this, and even better, what would she say about it?!

I'll have to ask her something along those lines when I go to her booksigning tomorrow.

As the evening closes, I'm wondering if my dad got my daughter to Family Storytime, if he did, if he dropped off the DVDs, and whether she will get a bath tonight. I am finding that I don't mind being disconnected from the world, but I do mind being disconnected from my family.