Melting My Heart in A 34 Degree Ice Bath
I showed up to a magical home on Austin’s East side last eve, last minute, with little information but in trust. I was welcomed immediately, at the door by two familiar faces and the host whom I’d never met before. My uniform: Balloon jeans, a cropped DVF sweater, my favorite heart earrings and Chloe clogs, for girls’ night. “She’s a cold therapy specialist” I learned last minute, and so I grabbed a bathing suit before I ran out the door.
I’m always cold. I hate the cold. “I’m from Miami,” is the excuse I use most.
We sat on the couch, and drank ceremonial cacao before a few others’ arrived, with smiles, hugs and wide eyes. I wasn’t alone. Surrounded by a sisterhood I’ve long desired, although I’d barely just met them. Cold but warmer than I’d arrived, not only is Austin “freezing,” at 55 degrees outside, but I’m also experiencing the rollercoaster of emotions, the grief I’d not planned on feeling after leaving my relationship: cohabitating, my lover, best friend, closest confidante, boyfriend of well over a year. Who knew!? I’ve never felt heartbreak — which I’m learning is really my heart blown wide open, and what’s left is not the tough exterior, but the tootsie pop’s center — the soft, sweet gooey, tootsie roll, But exposed. Less ego, more heart, less fear, more love. The sweet little girl I’ve been protecting from hurt is currently rawAF. But I don’t need the protective shell anymore.
We all chatted for a while — shared openly, fears, dreams, advice, ideas — and feelings were met and received. I felt at home, in my heart at least. Time moved quickly and I realized I’d soon have to leave. Kristin, the host and queen of cold therapy said, “Should we throw her in the ice quickly?” Of course everyone agreed. I had zero intention of actually doing the damn thing. But Andrew Huberman (Kristin, and my functionalRX Dr.) says that deliberate cold exposure can…
Enhance mental health, physical health, and performance.
Improve attention, mood, and cognitive focus boost metabolism and reduce inflammation
Better mood and mental clarity
Improved sleep. etc.
All was white noise to me, but I’ve learned time and again to JUMP, because when we do hard things, the hard things become easier as we get stronger. Really though, I didn’t bother thinking. My open heart was ready to receive. I put on my bathing suit quickly, left my big heart earrings in my ears, dangling and Kristin led me. The seven of us walked outside and Kristin asked if I’d like tunes to accompany (and distract) me, picking Rufus du Sol intuitively, the same song I’d listened to earlier that evening, and that I’d paired with the chicken nuggets reel recipe.
With sisters surrounding me and Kristin across from me, we paid homage to the ice bath, 34 degrees, before I jumped into get cozy. Kristin put her hands on my shoulders, and with my hands on heart and body, I took deep nasal breaths to ground me. Her grounded energy held space beautifully and her 18 years in New York also honored my reforming New York energy. And then I jumped in — without thinking. I showed up for this medicine and it showed up for me. For two minutes and thirty seconds I breathed, supported and supporting.
“Of all the hard shit you’ve done, Olivia— this is small potatoes.” Kristin coached me.
“I love potatoes!” I replied.
Thinking less about ice and more of the mini Yukon gold’s I pop in the microwave quickly and savor slowly with studs of melted butter and a bit of ketchup yummy. And a sprinkle of levity in tough situations makes them feel easy. And Kristin was right, of all the hard things I’ve done, a fucking freezing ice bath, breathing, surrounded by love, could just be easy. A choice: Perspective is a powerful thing. Breathing deeply, I reminded myself as always, to flow through the fight and keep going. “I’m safe, I’m ok.” I repeated, soothing the fearful, anxious inner child in me, instead of reacting —holding her instead of judging or running. Reparenting is telling the younger version of me how much she is loved, frequently, often served with a blow pop (or tootsie pop) when necessary. “You’re safe baby.”
“Can you hold my hand?” I asked Kristin unabashedly. Asking for help is a new skill for me, not weakness, but strength. She obliged. She placed my hands into the water and lightly pressed my shoulders down, “I know it feels weird at the beginning but I’m going to do this beautiful thing where I’m going to tell you, you don’t have to grip the shit out of everything in life.”
“I know, it’s so much work,” I replied.
“For the last fifteen seconds you’re going to lengthen your legs and put your shoulders in, to make it easier,” she said.
Ahh to make it easier. She was right. Like I do on a boxing bag, I turn fight to flow, find my dance, turn pain into power and let go. I surrendered. And then it was over. I leaped out, was cocooned in a towel, body frozen, but heart melted, grounded — triumphant, celebrated, proud.
When we stop gripping, we make space to grow. Video footage, here.
I arrived without expectation, opened my heart, received love and gave it. As I loosened my grip, I relinquished control, as I opened my eyes, I became more open. As I softened my heart, I softened. This manifestation of sisterhood I mentioned yesterday came to fruition in my life quickly. As was the resilience I’ve committed to daily for decades. Grit isn’t built over night. We have to show up and keep practicing.
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”
Grit is hope. And healing is a forever commitment. But it requires inviting all sides of us to the party: I invited my fear into the ice instead of shaming me, and with support and a bit of levity, hard became easy, fear became love.
We need no one’s permission to own our potential. When we’re held in a loving container, by others’ and ourselves — there is much more opportunity for growth. You are, I am, we are not alone. If you are ready to jump into the next version of you — I’m ready to support you. There are 30 days left of 2022, and I have one spot left for 1:1 coaching. Book a free call, here. And if you are female identifying and ready to see + be seen by likeminded ladies, more information on my women’s immersive, here. And next time you’re invited to bathe in ice, call Kristin for coaching, or just jump.
None of it will be easy, but it doesn’t have to be so hard. Especially if we do it together.
Happy December. Sending you love and warmth always, Olivia x