How One Woman Increased Her Wellness By Going Into Debt At A Wellness Spa​

I spent my inheritance from my grandfather’s death in Tulum, Mexico to cope with all of the cosmic and dimensional changes going on in my life.

After losing my beloved grandfather - and main source of income - I knew I would have to reactivate my profile. But first, I desperately needed to re-center myself. The Mexican bells of the Q'uel Wellness Retreat sent me soaring like Pacal's rocket.

Mornings would begin with sunrise yoga where the warm sun rays shone through my skin ($45) like an illuminated lamp as I gave gratitude to myself, mother earth and every transaction that was not declined.

A guided plant-based meditation (much needed after my daily Red Bull and psychotropic binging) would follow, led by Dave, the self-proclaimed reincarnation of the Mayan Descending God.

During my plant-based meditation, I would merge with the sand beneath me and become one with the indigenous Mayan people of Tulum ($250).

Meals were an organic, gluten-free, lactose-free, vegan, mediterranean, soy-free, glucose-free, and also free (included in the package price) were sheets of edible translucent spiritual paper manifested from consciousness.

Cucumber mint Fresca flowed in ground tide pools to symbolize the ocean’s drift. We would often bend down and drink the Fresca straight from the pools.

After dinner, we gathered around a fire and participated in a drumming meditation before we were released to the night to reflect on the day’s meditations, nutrition and spiritual alignment with the universe ($750).

On the second evening, I took a lover. A petite but strong bus boy, Alejandro. We made passionate love in the beer cooler of the resort lobby. He pushed my hair back against my face as he passionately pressed against me.

The floor was slick and I slipped into the gallon size containers of piña colada mix. The white mixture spilled on the floor. Alejandro took me by the neck and laid me down as he bit my neck. We made sweet pineapple-flavored love on the tiled floor ($10).

The next couple days were spent sorting out my spiritual turmoil and the turmoil of a yeast infection. To make matters worse, I never saw Alejandro again. "Was he real?" I asked myself in my journal made of seaweed.

I certainly had the neck bites and cloyingly sweet stench of piña colada in my loins that seemed to point to 'yes'. But there were also a lot of bitey "spirit bugs" and I had to admit to myself this wasn't the first time I had fallen into a piña colada mix. Still, real or not, I missed him.

This trip intended to cleanse my spirit had only become more complicated. As hard as I tried, I could not attend to the guidance of my personal curandero, who imparted this wise instruction to me: "To cleanse your spirit you must first cleanse your vagina." Easier said than done ($300 but well worth it).

I summoned the strength on the 5th day through text meditation, the wellness center's group chat. After gaining the affirmations I needed from my squad, I went down to the hotel lobby bar and waited for Alejandro - who turned out to be real (and from New Jersey) - to come to me. He emerged from the beer cooler or what I romantically call, "enfriador de cerveza."

“Alejandro, my love," I said, "I must end our affair. I have to establish boundaries and focus on myself. I can’t do this with you but I can do this without you.”

I walked away from the lobby bar feeling spiritually uplifted. I felt my aura change to bright orange. My spirit had been realigned by affirming my needs as indicated through the paid advisement of others.

Written by Alli Coleman.