Abandon Every Hope: Part I

The Anticipated Event

It was the last weekend in May. In a matter of months, so much had changed, but I woke that Saturday morning with hope. The worst was over, and I was ready for the cleansing. I couldn’t change the past, but I was determined to shift my present. I could start anew, and that morning’s returning humidity signaled the arrival of summer, the anticipated event for which I had been waiting.  

I had scrubbed the bathroom the night before knowing that my celebration of the end of the painful winter would begin in the most ritualistic of ways, a long, hot, nourishing bath. The morning sun lighted the black-and-white tiled floor and the sheer curtain glowed as ethereally as the robes of painted saints. I gave flame to three white candles and a small bundle of sage, acknowledging and offering thanks to my pagan and Native American ancestors. As the herbal smell of the sage began to flood the gleaming space, I closed the drain and opened the hot water faucet. The steam rose from the porcelain tub. 

In addition to the carefully curated natural elements, I unwrapped a gold, glittering bath melt that I had been saving. Composed of essential oils, flowers, soothing butters, and rather magical effervescing sparkles, this fizzy lump of baking soda would add whimsy and a bit of lightness to my otherwise sacred rebirth. I took off my robe, gave a nod to Luna as she curled up on the bathmat, and slipped into the shimmering liquid heat.

Rather than meditation music or singing bowls, I had opted for silence. I wanted to fully immerse my senses in the feel of the water, the smell of the herbs, and the hollow sound in my ears. I closed my eyes for several minutes, trying to release all the negativity that had been building for so many months. Then I thought of the bath melt that had surely turned the clear water a brilliant, gleaming gold and was now swirling around my body, symbolically pulling away tension and adding sparkling beauty.

Instead, when I opened my eyes and became cognizant of my senses, the water was a muddied yellow and felt tepid. The aromas of the oils and the sage were competing, and the once glowing light that had poured in the window was now muted as dark clouds stalled outside. Everything was different, and nothing was as I expected.