The Wrap

My first time here. I was 20 years old. Now 40 years later I am sitting in the same exact room. Back then I was camping in the parking lot not even recalling who brought me here. Now I am in a luxury room with a small kitchenette. The room I’m in stirs my 40 year old memories. Really just the windows in this room are all that remains from back the. 6 leather lounge chairs, a table, and a few ottomans with a sauna and steam room now sit boldly in the corner

However, all those decades ago, this rooms had an entirely different experience.

My younger blonder self stepped into the darkened long room. The wooden tables lined up side by side with nearly space to squeeze between them. I lay, as instructed upon the scratchy warm woolen blankets with a towel as a buffer. The Native American men coming to each table one by one. We are all laid out like offerings, and they begin to wrap.

Tightly and securely wrapping each one of us in the warmed blankets Like body burritos on the flat planks. Tightly. Then somehow tighter still. My arms pinned by my side a wave of claustrophobia rolls through me. I can’t move. Then my internal voice states the obvious “yes that is the point” then somehow he tugs and pulls and tucks stronger and even tighter still. The deeply set windows above my head, 2-3’ recessed into the thick stone walls, my only mode of escape. Knowing it is there somehow soothes me and calms any panic that arises. A warm towel is laid across my eyes. I am fully immersed now

The sweat begins. My pores open. Sweat forms across my temples Softening - releasing. I can feel poisons leaving my body. My breath slows my hearts tempers its beat.

Hours pass (maybe 20 minutes?) and suddenly and angel of sorts appears with water in a thin paper cup with a straw. She places the straw to my lips as she gently lifts my head. Like a nurse with a feeble patient. I swallow the cold water with so much appreciation Feeling it slide down my throat and my cells absorbing it.

I think I fell asleep. I hear others in the room (about 20 of us) some softly snoring The room is brimming with us human burritos.

After many many hours (maybe 60 minutes?) the same strong dark hands firmly begin to release the tucks. Sternly pulling the blankets away. The woolen hug loosing. I am fully released from its grip. I’m instructed to move slowly to take my time. Allow a moment. As I swing my leaden feet to the cool stone floor the wooden table creaks. I glance at the door and see a figure sitting on a short three legged battered stool. The gate keeper. The space holder. Perhaps the angel of water?

I feel a sense of peace that they are there for us. This pod of beings lined up on tables are being tended to. Watched over. My feet find my flip flops and I retreat slowly from the blackness as I reach for the door intently whisper to the figure on the stool “what was that?” A husky whisper replies. “It is your welcome to ojo cliente “’