Woman putting flower petals into bathtub

It’s been a fairly intense, emotionally charged day. Make that a week, actually.

But I made it through today with grace, and a little help from my women friends.

Little Priestess is sleeping peacefully.

I’m as alone as it gets.

 

So I decide to create a sensual bath ritual for myself.

 

Back in the days when I donned a tailored suit, I thought taking baths was for sissies.

Having since become more intimately acquainted with Mami Wata, it’s hard to argue with the healing, cleansing and relaxing properties of a good soak.

Mami Wata painting of African Water Goddess

So this evening I go full out. We are talking candles. Goddess cards. Sea salt scrub with geranium and sandalwood oil. Rose petals and rosemary leaves.

 

I break a bottle of Walnut Flower essence* in the process of lighting the candles. It hits the sink and ricochets off the radiator before shattering on the floor.

I clean up.

My bathroom smells boozy.

 

I return to the ritual at hand.

I scrub. I bless. I pray.

 

morrocan-style bathtub with flowers and candlesI sink into the scented water and exhale the accumulated tension. I pray some more. I give thanks for my healthy body. I decide to do a long overdue chakra cleanse.

I work from the top down, imagining swirls of colour cleansing each energy centre.

By the time I get to my root chakra, a thunderstorm is brewing outside.

 

Then the door pushes open. I am not as alone as I thought.

A white streak dashes in, click clacking over the tiled floor.

 

Enter my beloved Jack Russell, petrified of rain and thunder. He paces the bathroom, unsuccessfully scanning for the nearest space to crawl under. There isn’t one. The closest hiding place is in a different room but I am not there so that won’t do.

 

I ignore the tapping claws and carry on cleansing – until an almighty racket breaks out behind me. The anxiety-ridden canine has catapulted onto the bathtub ledge and is wedging himself through the non-existent space between my head and the wall.

Before long I have a small dog sitting on my left shoulder, like a witches’ familiar, hyperventilating. Outside the thunder rages and the rain noisily pelts the conservatory roof below.

 

So I lie there with my dog digging nails into naked skin. I reassuringly scratch his chest until the storm abates and the water is cold. Then we work on a clumsy exit strategy that successfully avoids full canine immersion.

 

Meanwhile, blessedly, LP remains uit soos ‘n kersie – out like a light.

I dry myself off and crawl into bed to catch my forty winks… or so I think.

 

Turns out Mother Nature has a lot more to say with both water and voice.

 

Eventually, LP wakes up. Between her and the adrenalized terrier, sleep isn’t exactly forthcoming. At some point, I pile them all into bed with me and hope for the best.

The best – SLEEP – is yet to come.

And it’s fair to say that 8kg of frazzled male energy did not form part of my self-care fantasy.

 

But then I’m the first to concede that this spiritual journey isn’t all unicorns farting flowers.

And that, sometimes, the Goddess sure has a wicked sense of humour.

 

sky with dark clouds and lighning

 

Images: yourspiritsparkle.com, pinterest, s-tia.blogspot.com


* This remedy protects “against outside influences in general, and against the effects of change in particular” which seems apt for the eve of the EU referendum in the UK.