Saying yes to the heat

My latest post is about saying yes to the heat, even if it involves a burly Russian masseuse thwacking you with oak branches. You can read it here, and below.

For the first time in my life, I went to the Russian baths. Have you been to the Russian baths? It’s really quite something. I knew a little about what it would be like beforehand: that there would be lots of hot and cold, and (the part I was most intrigued by) that one is likely to be thrashed with a big bundle of leaves in the name of good health.

I’d already spent a lovely afternoon at Coney Island with my pal from London: we’d braved the whipping winds and sand on the the beach and ridden the Wild Water log flume ride at Luna Park, so my inhibitions were down. Really, once you’re on a rollercoaster and it’s inching its way to the top of its climb, pre-descent, there is nothing you can do but surrender to the experience and the joy and the screaming and the delicious terror. Which is what we did.

So we got to the spa nearby, where we were taken in hand by a commanding, jolly Russian man called Yuri. He told us that we would take a medium hot sauna then two very cold showers, then a very hot sauna followed by immersion in the icy cold plunge pool, and we’d receive platza—the treatment with a broom of oak leaves. He told us that one of the many benefits of the hot and the cold cycles is that at first your body goes into “fight or flight” mode, but once you keep taking the counterintuitive course of action, your body kind of throws in the towel and de-programs itself—“Fine, do what you like”—and starts to relax more deeply.

Yuri was emphatic about the benefits of heat on the body; on the circulatory system, the skin and on the organs. To receive platza, you lay on the highest (and hottest) bench in the sauna, and the swishing of the leaves creates yet more heat. He said we might find it uncomfortable, but if we fought it, it would only feel more uncomfortable, more panicky. He said, with a shrug, that you have to say yes to it.

So there I lay, with Yuri gently thrashing me with a bunch of twigs, sweating and feeling very, very hot. But I did let go of the panic; even when he pressed the twigs right down on my belly where my liver is. (Okay, the second time he did it, I pushed the leaves away after a while, but still!) Similarly, I dared to go in the freezing plunge pool afterwards, which I’ve never done before in any kind of spa; I’ve always been too scared. It felt wonderful! Absolutely stimulatingly relaxingly amazing.

And here’s what it got me thinking. It put me in mind of Tara Brach’s excellent book, Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With the Heart of a Buddha. Brach’s approach is about gently but directly looking at what’s really going on in your mind and body, and accepting it. This is a radical approach because it goes against our instinct and conditioning to move away from pain, fear and discomfort as quickly as possible.

It’s important to note that in saying “Yes” to what’s going on, you’re not necessarily condoning it or agreeing with it, you’re just not struggling with it. Equally, in any kind of abusive situation, getting out as fast as possible is imperative. But what Brach is talking about here are the basic everyday struggles and tussles we all get into with our minds and bodies.

She offers one particular meditation which was a real eye-opener for me, called “The Power of Yes”. In it, you sit in a comfortable seated posture, calm down and find your breath, and then call to mind a situation that you find hard or painful or uncomfortable. You summon those feelings fully, and then you say “No” to them. You watch what happens in your body when you do this; you see how the resistance manifests itself physically. You imagine yourself continuing to say “No” in a month’s time, a year’s time. When I first tried it some months ago, my body felt like a flower curling up, in physical distress. Then you return to your breath.

Next, you bring to mind the difficult thing again, and this time you say “Yes” to it. As I said, you’re not saying, “Yes I agree with this, it’s brilliant.” You’re simply accepting it for what it is. And you notice what happens in your body and your mind. Again, you imagine saying “Yes” in the future, and you observe. My body stayed open; my mind stayed open. The feelings that arose, in this case of sadness, discomfort and anxiety, were able to exist simply as they were. It was a profound and liberating exercise.

So that’s what I thought of, as Yuri swept me with the oak broom in the soaring heat. I mean, I thought that, and periodically, “Get off!”, and also “Ooh, that’s nice”. I surrendered to the heat, and the heat did its transformative work in my body and my mind.

May your own Yesses this week bring you health and clarity.