Forget talking, a good soak is the perfect therapy on tap
Just as naps are no longer naps, but “power naps”, and mere strolling has been transformed into so many “power walks”, so a soak is now no mere idling in the tub, but a “power bath”. Writer Suzanne Duckett has penned a polemic entitled Bathe: The Art of Finding Rest, Relaxation and Rejuvenation in a Busy World. In it, she recommends dosing one’s dip with aromatherapy oils, mineral salts and exotic muds to improve blood pressure, block pain receptors and combat loneliness. Behold, the power bath.
I am proud to report that I was ahead of this particular game, having long pimped my ablutions with oils, Epsom salts, green tea, milk and honey. I took my inspiration from a formative reading of The Long Dark Tea-time of the Soul, Douglas Adams’s second Dirk Gently adventure, in which the heroine deploys all her bubble baths at once to restore an ailing Norse god. If it was good enough for Thor…
Water therapy is the ultimate therapy, bathing being a far more ancient form of respite than Freud’s talking cure. Psychotherapy can be
unappealingly active, tub-based therapy remains blissfully passive; the only energy required that of sweating out toxins, then washing away the stresses of the day.
Incredible, then, that a third of Brits take only four baths a year, and the majority of these confined to a mere eight minutes. Who are these highly strung maniacs? As fans of the series 30 Rock will recall, The Shower Principle is the term Jack Donaghy uses to refer to “moments of inspiration that occur when the brain is distracted from the problem at hand – for example, when showering”. Cue solving a pressing work matter while lathering up.
To this, I issue a surly: “Whevs”. Showers may yield the odd epiphany, but all baths are power baths.