Worn from the cold Boston weather, but relaxed after a two-hour massage, Dawn and I headed to the beach right before the sun set on Puerto Morelos, in the Riviera Maya. Our destination: the Temazcal (pictured), which is not a tequila tasting as one guest thought, but a structure on the beach, parallel to the pier where we took sunrise yoga on our last day at Ceiba del Mar.
Margarita, the “medicine woman” greets the four of us who have arrived for the Maya Ritual. First, sage smudging for each one of us before looking toward the east, west, north and south, and descend the steps into a concrete bowl, where we sit on palm leaves that separated our butts from the sand.
The ritual began with a hearty “Ho!” recited to welcome the Hopi Indian ritual each time the “outside” man brought in burning cinders of volcanic rock to the center of our “hut.” After about five pieces were lodged in the doughnut-hole space with five of us surrounding it, the door was closed. We were supposed to notice faces of our grandparents, our ancestors, but I saw nothing but reddened volcanic rocks. And then I noticed an angry face. I was informed that this was my fear, and that I should face it. It quickly disappeared after a series of chanting and “talk” from Margarita, and right after she threw in a bucket of water doused with sage.
More lava rocks were brought in, and this time I saw an owl (wisdom) and Dawn saw a hawk before more water doused the fire, this time mixed with chamomile. On the third round of lava rocks, I saw the Chanel logo (my feminine side), and finally, eucalyptus water was tossed in. Each toss provided acoustics when the water struck the hot stones. One sounded like a rattlesnake, “the sound of change,” she explained. And then we were instructed to view the colors swirling around each one of us.
Our aura swirled around with individual colors that some were able to notice, while others struggled, like yours truly. It took me a while to see a bit of pink swirling next to Dawn, and then purple pieces of light were everywhere. Margarita announced the color yellow was on one side of me, which means knowledge, she said. This evaluation, coupled with the interpretation of an owl in one of the three series of volcanic rocks delivered, and the elephant with the trunk upward, and the sparkling burst in front of me on one delivery – I was definitely working my wisdom, but was cautioned to be aware of deception. OK, but then there’s the Chanel logo. What can I say? I’m a woman. A woman who was instructed to take a few bits of a papaya (in the dark) and then rub the rest of the pulp over my body. And then the same with honey that was passed around. More chanting and inhalation of smoke ensued before Margarita announced she would open the door. And that’s when my anxiety, as well as a few others, sunk in. She didn’t open the door for what seemed another five minutes --- each minute more grueling than the next.
When we departed the Temazcal 45 minutes after we entered the “house of bath,” I appreciated every breath, as well as the night sky and trees and shrubbery that looked brighter and more three-dimensional than I’d ever noticed before. This was much more than a great energy session. After sweating profusely while chanting and inhaling smoke doused with herbs, our papaya and honey soaked bodies headed to the spa for a good, long shower.
Lots of Mexican resorts offer the Temazcal ritual, but at Ceiba del Mar, it’s unique, mainly because of its location. While other Temazcal are on the rooftop of a hotel, or inside a spa, this one is situated on Mother Earth, with all elements surrounding it. The ocean site is perfect, with nature’s beauty surrounding the structure.
This was part two of a story that begins here.
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