The sauna in the Taj Coromandel is deep inside the building. While it is used often, rarely is there more than one person or group in the room at the same time. In my time each evening, I find myself sitting in absolute silence. The quietness is occasionally broken by the sound of a rock responding to the heat, but that is it. Initially it was a unsettling moment. I thought I should hear something manmade. The exercise equipment nearby, people talking, or the inevitable music playing in public spaces. I should hear something, yet I only heard silence.
The heat gently pushed me back against the wall and into even more stillness. I know that these kind of moments are not for anyone, but for me it was energizing. I could sense the work of hope within me. I was confident that something resembling healing was happening even though I was hard pressed to put a name to it. While I could sense something, there was nothing I could pinpoint if I had been asked.
The silence was broken by the occasional sound of water hitting the rocks. The quick sizzle always led to the firm touch of a heat wave on my neck and back. The cool water I was drinking did little to stem the overwhelming touch of the heat and silence. It was consuming and fulfilling in equal measure.
As I walked out later, dripping despite have towels off repeatedly, I realized I was tired. The sauna session had consumed me. I was also stronger. There was a resolve infused with hope within me that I had not felt before the session. I felt myself turning to David’s prayer and making it my own; “I love you, God – you make me strong.” (Psalm 18.1)
I do not have a sauna daily. I do not think the heat is the answer to every struggle. I do know that in the quietness God worked on my soul. God finds space in our lives when we slow down enough to give Divinity space.
