I’m out on a Wim, in a small mountain range east of the Mississippi. My mom bought me a ticket to this event that involves breathwork and ice baths. It’s called Fundamentals of Nature, A Wim Hof Experience.
Our group is 45 people. Mike Posner is here. The group demographic isn’t exactly Mike Posner fans. He introduced himself as Mike, a Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter. I assumed the music thing didn’t work out and now he’s here. In fact, it did work out and now he’s here. A few of his big mountain friends are here too. Ultramathoner Dreama Walton is here. I didn’t know her before this, but I spotted her immediately.
The campus sits beautifully beside a lake.
The main building is like a cruise ship mixed with a college dorm building. There’s half a dozen yoga studios for various programs, two saunas and a well-staffed dining hall. Phone and laptop use is acceptable in the Tech Lounge.
Hundreds of people are here, paying to access what is inside them.
This is the Mecca for women with disposable incomes to do their healing journeys.
My ears are open.
“My naturopath keeps giving me supplements and I keep not taking them.”
“I do want to take more of that magnesium.”
“My strategy is Facebook is for whatever and Instagram is only for positivity. But not toxic positivity.”
There’s a few New York City doctors here. They’re all on pills. A quarter of America is on psychiatric medication, prescribed by people on psychiatric medication. Keep drinking the water and you can join their cult. I digress.
I walk down to the lake.
The water was in the mid fifties. I trudge out to deep water splash it on my face. I soak up to my chin.
A middle-aged couple appeared on the beach. I struck up a conversation with a cool, “the water’s pretty cold.” The woman, Kerry, had gorgeous eyes. She told me it is her third time at this event.
Right off the bat, the husband, John, hit me with “What do you do?”
He sounds like a needy New York banker.
“I do a lot of things. . . Do you mean for work?”
“We’re from New York,” Kerry apologized. Her eyes compensate the small talk.
We strolled toward the main building.
I walked through a labyrinth. A literal labyrinth.
Back at my journal I wrote:
I’m bored of writing. Is this what my life is? Everything I do, I say, is this what my life is?
The intellect. The sword that cuts up truth.
Could I survive without my sword?
If your thoughts aren’t you, then what’s possible?
The weekend’s lecture series and breathing experiences is in a large yoga studio. 50 mats, cushions, blankets and backrests are laid out for the group. During the lecture, some attendees are sitting in easy pose, are lying on their back. Some are resting their eyes annd others are in a yoga pose. No one is on their phone because we don’t have them with us nor do we want them. Our shoes are in the hall. I have a notebook and my favorite gel pen.
It’s an intimate, comfortable and engaging, before words are even spoken.
I’m chilling in the back. I’m the youngest person here. Discretionary time and income is required to be here. There’s a young woman at the front of the room. She flew in from Colorado. She says she wants to be more forgiving of others and herself. Her name is “Dreama.” That can’t be her real name. She might be liberal weirdo.
Today’s presentation has a lot of cool visuals and links to pubMed. Notably, Brain over Body, https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29438845/
We laid back and go into a communal holotropic breathing session. There’s powerful music and a guide walking among the 45 adults. He’s speaking well rehearsed lines of guidance.
Inhale like an archer, drawing your bow back. Exhale release.
Post breathing, a woman described it as “the most intense experience of her life.”
We’re at the dining hall for lunch. It’s a buffet that is loaded with high quality foods and drinks. I load up on meat, cheese and sugar-free berry water. I sat beside the men who look like good men.
Dreama came and sat next to me. Of all the seats. She’s super fit. Ultra fit.
She’s 6 inches away. I’m blown away by her physique. She and the group leader have a mutual friend, Mike Posner, and that’s how she found out about this event. It comes out that she is a sponsored ultramarathon athlete. And her boyfriend is on Everest right now. A film team is making a documentary about her. It’s called Dreama Team. Dreama is actually her given name. “My parents were hippies,” she said.
Cooling Session
We sat in 37 degree ice baths for as long as we wanted.
The ice bath is egalitarian. You have no excuses. There’s no where to hide.
I was getting ready. I was mentally preparing to enter an ice bath. There were four ice baths ready for our group. One of the most attractive females in my life came to me and said “10 minutes?” meaning 10 minutes in the ice bath. I said, “20 minutes!”
She hopped in her ice bath and as I was going toward my tub but another guy popped in before me, thank God.
There is an XL tub and the two gentlemen invited my in. I hopped in. I had difficult time adjusting and catching my breath. I realized I need to put my face in the cold water to activate the Diving Reflex, signaling to the whole system that we’ll be here for a while.
Kevin is a 65-year-old savage in the global Crossfit semi-finals. He has been in this ice bath for 2.5 minutes.
After I got my face wet he said “nice work” then plunged to the bottom of the tank, holding his nose and in the fetal position. I said “I hope it comes back up.” Kevin exploded out and our comrades clapped.
Nighttime Fire Jam
With a little convincing from Kerry, John brought out his acoustic guitar to play and sing with the group.
Oren, a psychotherapist from NYC who wears mastodon tooth necklace, brought a Djembe drum. He let me play it too. My basic drumming convinced the group I knew what I was doing. I don’t. But what’s the difference. Group jam sessions are mostly about confidence, which I have no shortage of. My experience with prior jam sessions has taught me to stick to the basics. Simplicity is a winning strategy.
Billy is here. Billy is a cop from Maine who helps police use breathwork and cold exposure to not shoot people or lose their minds. Billy brought a handpan. It’s a metal drum, like an inverted steel drum.
If you know what you’re doing with the hand-pan, it sounds magical. His handpan was made by Mountain Man Handpan in New Hampshire.
The fire was the pinnacle of the 48 hours. The drums. The hand pan. The vocals.
We inspected the stars. Everything checks out. We are all children in disguise.
Stars. Information purity. The truth of a million galaxies.
Our sun, raw truth.
How can we meet ourselves where we are?
It was a room of 45 adults laying down pattern breathing for an hour. Adults screaming. Crying. Making animal noises. As they should. The breath gives you what you need.
I took it all in. I found my form and hit my line.
Holotropic breathwork is a mind altering practice to navigate and experience.
For me, the level of solidarity was off the carts.
After the breathing session, we passed around a microphone.
I lifted my arm to speak to fifty people.
Start with something easy, then something funny, then something meaningful.
“Hi, I’m Chris. In the ice bath yesterday, Sam looked at me and said “you’re doing great,” and Billy said "get those hands in the water!” Laughter. Billy is a cop. “We have a little good cop, bad cop going on.” The room loved it. It landed better than I thought it would.
“I’m a bit younger here. I haven’t seen or been a part of anything like this, so it’s very special. I have never seen adults like this.” The crowd laughed again.
“As a young adult myself, I can’t help but think, how can I build a world where this is a part of it?” The crowd clapped in approval. “We have a tremendous opportunity to create a deeper world.” God willing we embrace the pain of that opportunity. “I’m writing a book and this will be in it and I hope it stays in your book too.”
Today I was in a group and I felt safe. Connected. Authentic.
I stand before you
And I am you
Can I embody the paradox?
All of it. And none of it.
Infinite entendre
Thanks For Reading!
I am focused on creating truthful, authentic and useful media. The result is comedy and philosophy in story form. Every week I do a podcast with Luke McKim, a recovery coach and Kundalini yoga expert. It’s called Weird and Worthwhile on Spotify and YouTube.
I am writing a book that is the world through my eyes. I think the book will encourage living a courageous and healthful life.
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And with that, have a great rest of your day.
This was great!