Photography provided by We Care Spa
I stood, eyes closed, arms at my side, facing the bedroom wall of my spirit coach’s executive suite at the We Care Spa. I was part of a small group who had come for “The Promise” spirit retreat to explore the best of ourselves; to meet the spirit guides we were “assigned at birth.” Or so Aja Daashuur, our spirit coach, said.
We were also going on a cleanse. A deep cleanse. For six nights, I would be fasting, embracing a completely liquid diet, daily colonics and a regimen of alkaline water, nutritional supplements, specially designed therapeutic teas and powdered plant concentrates made into juices. Ingredients such as organic psyllium husk and seed, enzyme powder, alfalfa leaf extract, barley grass juice, gingko leaf powder, chlorophyll, dulse, spinach and oat straw powder — to name just a few — aim to enhance detoxification.
Yes, I signed up for this.
There is no better place to take this inner journey as the landscape mirrored the austere inner dive we would take. We Care is an oasis in the hardscrabble landscape of Desert Hot Springs, a small town not far from Palm Springs, California, nestled between the San Bernardino and San Jacinto Mountains. The last five miles to the spa wind past a sea of towering windmills with views of the distant mountains. Through the exclusive mechanized gates is a large Buddha, its towering, complacent visage a prelude of what was to come.
Here, wandering is encouraged. Paths zigzag through the grounds, leading guests to floating beds, an installation that mimics the gentle rocking of being in the womb and helps encourage relaxation and lymphatic drainage; secluded jacuzzis; or maybe a small adobe sauna with a perfect stack of towels just outside the door.
Solitude is made easy, and socializing is born through the shared experience. Just as any ascetic will tell you, fasting and spiritual deep dives go hand in hand. I’m pretty sure no one has ever had an epiphany after dining on filet mignon.
After a few days of getting used to my austere regimen, I went to Aja’s room for my private consultation. A petite African-American woman wearing a kerchief around her dreadlocks, she had been guiding us on vision quests for the last few days. But this time I would be cleansed of negative energies. After being led through a brief meditation to “connect to my higher self,” we started to get somewhere.
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” she said. “Your body will lean forward to indicate a ‘yes’ and lean backwards to indicate ‘no.’” She then said, “You are wearing a red raincoat.” Obviously, I wasn’t wearing a raincoat.
I stood, waiting. Then, as if gently pushed, I tipped backwards. My legs tensed. I caught myself from falling. That was the sign she was looking for. She could now begin to cleanse my spirit of any negative spiritual hangers-on.
“There’s negative energy connected to your body,” she said.
Tip forward
“There are psychic attacks connected to your body.”
Tip forward
Now, I’m not easily persuaded or impressed. But my body did move on its own. She continued until she had all the negative spirits called out. Then, she walked around me, letting out three loud exhales, as if she was blowing out a fire.
Whoosh.
Once the cleansing was complete, I felt a bit light-headed; happily drained. I returned to my room and promptly took a nap. My fellow spirit retreaters and I spent the next four days with Aja. They were a mix of archetypes — a California divorcee; the wife of a Russian oligarch; a powerhouse female CEO and her millennial daughter sporting a purple cleopatra haircut; a Hollywood film producer and his younger, blond girlfriend; a Silicon Valley techie recovering from months of sleep deprivation and overwork. All were global travelers seasoned to the ways of shamans and ancient ceremonial rituals. Many had experienced ayahuasca; others had even tried the more potent and trendy psychedelic venom that comes from the Colorado River toad, also known as the Sonoran Desert toad.
They were comfortable with the advantages of being a part of the jet set elite, but they were also hyper-aware of their privilege and were yearning for more than a terry cloth robe and rub down.
They came in search of the authentic. They came to get a deeper look at themselves and to discard bad habits with others.
And they’re not alone. According to the Global Wellness Institute, the wellness tourism industry is projected to grow to $1.1 trillion by 2025. Susana Blenan, the 86-year-old Argentinian matriarch of We Care, embodies the spa’s philosophy. When she started We Care 30 years ago in her home, she was a divorced mother of three trying to cope with stress and poor health. Today, she still teaches classes and is the go-to for many celebrities. In fact, the day I arrived, the two leading “cowboys” of Yellowstone, Rip and Kayce, had just left.
Beyond the plethora of body treatments and services, the spiritual offerings of We Care are what set it apart from any other spa I have ever visited. Working with Aja, we were learning, again, how to trust our intuition. Gut instincts that somehow get intellectualized aside. We’ve heard the stories about the mountain climber who turns from the summit on a cloudless day. Or stories of the lucky ones who decided, last minute, not to board the plane on that fateful day. We were aiming for this kind of clarity all the time.
After our sessions, which began with 30-minute meditations that induced visions and, at times, spiritual awakenings, we wandered through the grounds in a post-hypnotic stupor trying to decode what we experienced. Did I imagine that I saw myself at 11 years old? Who was that man I followed in the jungle? Retreating to someplace exclusive and special with strangers on a shared mission encourages us to confront the big questions together: What am I doing here? What really matters?
After our retreat was over, a few of us gathered to exchange emails and phone numbers. We had all experienced something that filled us with hope; joy. We felt like kids again having spent a few weeks away at summer camp. We remembered what we were like before we became adults. Before life became complicated. Just free spirits with dreams, laughs and stories to share. Catching fireflies in the summer night.
