The Power of a Good Bath

The Power of a Good Bath

For the last few weeks, I’ve been deep in a funk that I just can’t shake. It turns out that it may be my own body, as I suffered some severe menstrual problems including a high loss of blood. I’ve had blood work done, will be getting an ultrasound, and am on a high dosage of hormones—all things that many women who’ve experienced significant bleeding can probably relate to. So, my funk may be chemical.

Even so, it sucks to live in it, and I’ve been trying to shake it. Reading hasn’t helped. When I try to write—the thing I’ve always loved most in the world—I simply sit and stare blankly at my computer, wondering where the words went. I’ve been vacillating between screaming and ignoring my poor loved ones, who are just as confused as I am. I tried to think of what I used to do in such situations, but I knew that a bath wouldn’t help me, since we now live in a place with a tiny tub (as opposed to the gargantuan one we used to have) and I haven’t enjoyed a bath since we’ve lived here—so, for about five years. Realizing this made me even more depressed!

But I’ve been reading Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Romancing the Ordinary, a book I bought myself last year, and one of the things in it that sounded interesting was a cleansing rice wine bath with oranges or tangerines. When I was a kid, I used to put all kinds of things in my bath water—from cloves to food coloring to flowers—and my parents were appalled when they found me doing it one day. They said it wasn’t right and that I had to stop immediately. Like so many other instances from my childhood, this one made me feel ashamed and guilty, and I didn’t do it again until I was out of the house on my own. Even then, I’ve rarely put anything in my water other than bubble bath.

But hearing my bath time concoctions defended by Breathnach made me want to try it again—though honestly, if we didn’t already have sake in the house, I never would have tried it. Anyhow, I had the orange (we always have oranges; my daughter eats two a day) and sake bath, and I feel so renewed. I don’t know if it was just the chance to mindlessly soak while smelling the oranges, the scene before me (which looked more like a bath out of one of my favorite books rather than out of my own home; perhaps it was from Foo?), or if it really does have the detoxifying properties that Breathnach says it does, but damn, did it make the difference. That one bath in our tiny tub was much more helpful than any old bath in our previous big tub.

I highly recommend this bath (if you have sensitive skin, you may not want to try it) of hot water mixed with 1 cup of rice wine and a cheesecloth filled with slices of tangerine or oranges. Floating a couple of orange peels aids to the effect, too. You may want to check out the book while you’re at it; it looks like it’s going to have many more of these luscious sensory experiences in it, too.