The waters don’t just cleanse my skin. They remember me.
And in their memory… I return to myself.
En mi alma contigo.
En la naturaleza.
Me limpia de todo.
Desde que soy un chiquitito.
I step into the onsen and everything slows.
The steam rises like incense from the Earth.
The scent of minerals and silence.
The warmth — not just physical, but ancestral —
seeps into my bones.
I breathe.
Not the shallow kind we take in the rush of a day.
But the deep, soul-filled inhale that speaks:
“I am safe here.”
The waters wrap around me like a mother’s embrace.
And I remember —
how simple it is to be held.
How natural it is to be whole.
Each ripple whispers stories older than language.
Of lands shaped by fire.
Of tears shed in grief and joy.
Of women who came here before me,
shedding shame,
shedding roles,
shedding everything that wasn’t truly theirs.
I let go too.
Of the expectations.
Of the striving.
Of the voice that says I must do more to be worthy.
I rest.
Not in performance.
But in presence.
El otro es otro igual que tú.
There is someone else out there too.
Maybe you.
Crying behind closed doors.
Feeling the ache of disconnection.
Searching for something you can’t quite name.
Let me tell you:
That ache isn’t weakness.
It’s the call to come home.
To your body.
To the Earth.
To the love you’ve always carried.
🌿 If your soul longs for stillness…
If your body is tired of rushing…
If you’re ready to remember what’s sacred —
✨ Begin here:
slow-secrets-tribe.kit.com/starthere
Let yourself be held.
Let yourself be loved.
Let yourself remember.
The water’s waiting.
So are you.
