Some people take baths daily.

I don’t. In fact, it has been more than 3 months, since I can recall taking my last bath. This level of self-care calls for me to slow down, plan methodically, and really allow myself to recall that I am worthy of this time and attention. A week’s worth of dealing with the outside world can do a number on the physical, mental, and spiritual, and a good bath with fragranced Epson salt, other select scents, soft music, and sexy lighting is a lot to be grateful for. The way my life is set up currently, baths are a luxury. It’s much more standard to take a standing shower, generally in preparation for some scheduled event, as opposed to reclining with minimal care.

I had a flashback

As I was bathing last night, I couldn’t help but think back to February 11, 2012. This would be the night of my final live show before leaving to go touring overseas. Minutes before the show was scheduled to start, the news came in that “The Voice” Whitney Houston had just been pronounced dead. News would continue to pour in and we would later learn that she allegedly was found in the bathroom tub of her hotel room. I remember this news impacting my dancers, but them having the resolve to compartmentalize their emotions so that the show could continue. I am forever grateful to them for this.

I don’t know that we’ll ever learn exactly what happened that night.

I can’t imagine that Whitney thought to herself as entered the tub, that this would be the last bath she would ever take. I imagine that if anything, Whitney was excited about what is normally a physiological stress and pain reliever. During my bath, my tired body drifted once or twice, and my mind attempted to rush into a murky space, but I quickly shifted my thoughts and focused on how wonderful it felt to be receiving this level of much-needed self-care. Thankfully, my bath provided my muscles, which have been feeling a kind of unusual tension, an opportunity for relaxation. It is so easy to take something as “simple” as a bath for granted. I do not.

I count it a blessing to have been able to enter the tub on my own and not be carried out on a stretcher. The moral of the story for me is simple, In All Things, Give Thanks!