Wim Hof Weekend
Ice baths, breathwork, fire jams
I’m out on a Wim in the Berkshires mountains. My mom bought me a ticket to this event for my birthday. It that involves breathwork and ice baths. It’s called Fundamentals of Nature: A Wim Hof Experience.
Our group is forty-five people. Mike Posner is here. The group demographic isn’t exactly Mike Posner fans. He introduces himself as Mike, a Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter. I didn’t recognize the name, and assumed the music thing didn’t work out and now he’s here. But in fact, it did work out and now he’s here. A few of his big mountain friends are here too. Ultramarathoner 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 are six yoga studios for various programs, two saunas, and a well-staffed dining hall. Phone and laptop use is acceptable in the Tech Lounge. There are multiple retreats going on this weekend.
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 are 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 tap water and you can join their cult.
I walk down to the lake. The water is in the mid-fifties. I trudge out to deep water, splash it on my face, and soak up to my chin.
A middle-aged couple appears on the beach. I strike up a conversation with a cool, “The water’s pretty cold.” The woman, Lisa, has gorgeous eyes. She tells me it is her third time at this event.
Right off the bat, her husband John hits 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,” Lisa apologizes. Her eyes compensate for the small talk.
We stroll toward the main building. I walked through a labyrinth, a literal labyrinth.
Back at my journal, I write:
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 are in a large yoga studio. Fifty mats, cushions, blankets, and backrests are laid out for the group. During the lecture, some attendees are sitting cross-legged, while others are lying on their backs. Some are resting their eyes and others are in a yoga pose. No one is on their phone because we don’t have them, nor do we want them. Our shoes are in the hall. I have a notebook and my favorite gel pen.
It’s intimate, comfortable, and engaging, before words are even spoken.
I’m relaxed in the back. I’m the youngest person here. Discretionary time and income are 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 a liberal weirdo.
After a slideshow about breathing and the nervous system, we lay back and go into a communal holotropic breathing session. There is powerful music and a guide walking among the 45 adults. He speaks well-rehearsed lines of guidance.
“Inhale like an archer, drawing your bow back. Exhale release.”
Post-breathing, a woman describes it as “the most intense experience of her life.”
We’re at the dining hall for lunch. It’s a buffet loaded with high-quality foods and drinks. I load up on meat, cheese, and sugar-free berry water. I sit beside the men who look like good men.
Dreama comes over and sits next to me. Of all the seats. She’s super fit. Ultra fit. She’s six inches away. I’m blown away by her physique. She and the group leader have a mutual friend, Mike Posner. That’s how she found out about this event. It comes out that she is a sponsored ultramarathon athlete. Her boyfriend is on Everest right now. A film team is making a documentary about her. It’s called Dreama Team. Her given name is actually Dreama.
“My parents were hippies,” she says.
Cooling Session
We go outside into the spring sunshine and sit in 37-degree ice baths for as long as we want. The ice bath is egalitarian. You have no excuses. There’s nowhere to hide.
There are five ice baths ready for our group. I’m mentally preparing. Dreama is excited asks me “10 minutes?”
10 minutes in a 37-degree ice bath.
“20 minutes!” I say.
She laughs and climbs into her tub.
I walk toward the other one, but another guy jumps in before me.
There is an XL ice bath with two guys in it. They invite me in. I had a difficult time adjusting and catching my breath. I put my face in the cold water to let my system that we’ll be here for a while. They call it the diving reflex.
After dinner, we migrate to a field for a nighttime fire jam. With a little convincing from Lisa, John brings out his acoustic guitar to play and sing with the group.
Oren, a psychotherapist from NYC wearing a mastodon tooth necklace, brought a Djembe drum. He lets me play it. My basic drumming convinces the group I know what I am doing. I don’t. But what’s the difference. Group jam sessions are mostly about confidence, which I have no shortage of. Past jam sessions have taught me to stick to the basics. Simplicity is a winning strategy.
Billy is here. He’s 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.
The fire is the pinnacle of the 48 hours. The drums, the hand pan, the vocals.
We inspect the stars.
Everything checks out.
We’re all children in disguise.
Stars, information purity
Our sun, raw truth
How can we meet ourselves where we are?
The next morning, we convene for more breathing. 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, 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 charts.
After the breathing session, a microphone was passed around to share our experiences. 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. Billy said, get those hands in the water!” The room laughs. “It bit of good cop, bad cop.” The room loves it.
“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 laughs 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 approves. “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. I hope it stays in your book too.”
I stand before you
And I am you
Can I embody the paradox?
All of it. And none of it.
Infinite entendre
Wim Hof, “The Ice Man” is an awesome guy who has inspired me for years.
His international community hosts events all around the world. Wim Hof Activity Map
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Some offerings
This piece is a chapter in my book, All Outcomes Are Acceptable. The book weaves personal stories, poetry, and fiction.
I am helping people go from good writer, to great writer, to paid writer. Contact me to see if we can work together.
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Thanks guys. Have a great rest of your day.
Poem
Once more into the fray…
Into the last good fight I’ll ever know.
Live or die on this day…
Live or die on this day…
Music
What I’m Reading
I enjoyed Community Catastrophe by
Dixon. Short, funny, and a personal story - my favorite.I like
s takes on AI and education. Also his CS Lewis quotes.Podcast
Photos
Love this. Been a big fan of cold exposure for a few years - mainly sea swimming and cold showers. Looks like a great experience I was due to do a massive Wim Hof event in London but it got pulled in the pandemic. Love your reaction to "what do you do?" - "lots of things" 😂 Defo borrowing this. I like this and just subscribed thanks.
Chris, thank you for this text. Cold water exposure is something I can read all day long. And by the way, love this sentence:
"Group jam sessions are mostly about confidence, which I have no shortage of."
Cheers.