I’m an empty nester now. No more kids’ activities to fill my calendar. So, I’m trying to figure out my own jams. Like relaxing. Big fan. I was chatting with a friend from a more metropolitan area and she reported that she went to a sound bath. “They don’t have anything cool like that here.” Within minutes, she sent a link to a Cacao Ceremony with magic bowls event in my own town! I didn’t wait to find out if she could come, I booked my ticket.

The event was listed as 5:30-8:30 pm. I was going to surrounded by fabulous, vibrating sounds for THREE HOURS! YESSSSSSSS. I would surely come home a refreshed version of myself. Yes, please!

On the right day, I drove to a part of town I don’t generally frequent and the map had me pull into a tiny parking lot in front of a small, old, wooden church. With my yoga mat and blanket, I entered. There were no pews, so the floor was open. 20 people had already rolled out their mats. After checking in, I found my spot and took everything in.

In the center of the circle, was a centerpiece with glass enclosed candles, some greenery, and electric votives leading out like an X or a star. There were milky way and star lamps shining on the peaked ceiling. There was blue and purple light on the back wall behind the pulpit, illuminating a stained glass window.

At the base of the steps to the chancel, there were several percussion pieces and instruments including a harp, guitar, and the glass bowls I was so eager to get tangled up with. There was a speaker directly to my left that played the sounds of a soft tide at the shore. When the head person began to speak in her soft, meditative voice, I was so distraught that I couldn’t hear her over the sounds of the water. I cupped my ear so if she looked my way, she’d know to speak up. I couldn’t quite catch every word, but she pointed her hand toward the center and referred to it as an altar.

The centerpiece, an altar? Okay, I guess I could reconcile that since we were within a church space. Traditionally, the altar would have been at the head of the rectangle shaped room, not in the center. The leader continued to speak, adjusting her volume after seeing my struggle. I was so excited to get to the relaxation part, I didn’t want to miss my cue to lay down. To my disappointment, she suggested we go around the circle, to introduce ourselves and express our greatest inspiration and our biggest struggle.

Wait. What? I looked around the room, there were about thirty people or more in the room at this point. I didn’t know any of them. So, now we were going around the room to talk about ourselves? I listened as Luke talked about how his spiritual journey has helped him be less violent. And Joy’s dad just died. And Julie’s best friends became a couple and she was grieving the loss of their friendship as it was pre-the-hook-up. People continued to pour their hearts out. I was so impressed with myself that I was remembering so many of their names. (I’m generally not good with names without repetition.)

After listening to many tales and people trying to “find themselves” it came to me. “I am currently inspired by breaking generational trauma, and that is also a hardship.” That was all. I was hoping everyone would wrap it up so we could get to the music! When the three leaders finally introduced themselves, one by stating his name “this time around” (huh?) I was so disappointed at how long they spoke. When we finally got finished with introductions, it was time for a bathroom break.

UGH! I tried to stay calm. Yes, a bathroom break made sense, because we’d be meditating for the next two hours. I layed down and cozied up my spot for the big plunge that was forthcoming in a matter of moments. Once we resumed the circle, the dude told us to stand up.

All I wanted to do was lay on my mat and have the music envelop me. But okay, maybe getting some blood flow was a good idea. We pummeled our arms and our legs. We reached this way and that. And then we were invited to get back onto our mats. This is it! I thought. And then the talking continued. There was an explanation of the sacred cacao we were going to partake in. It’s an ancient tradition of the Maya’s. The family that grew the cacao was special and I don’t remember what else.

We were warned that the cacao was a portal, and that spirit guided these people to Costa Rica to meet this family and establish this relationship etc. Spirit? Spirits? They got crocked one night and bought tickets to Costa Rica? Or like Casper? My head was not computing: spirit? portal? Then I remembered: altar? Wait. Wait. Was this some kind of a seance? What in the world had I signed up for?

When I got my cup of cacao, I held it in my hands, to my nose. It smelled of cinnamon and deep, deep chocolate. I relished the aroma, though I could tell it wasn’t going to be delicious. There was more talking, some sort of a blessing, to which many in the room replied with a word similar to amen. I was so eager to get to the music, that I ignored it until later. I took 3 tiny sips of the cacao, and put my handleless cup behind a chair so it wouldn’t accidentally get tipped over. The two women playing instruments sprayed themselves with some kind of mist. I hurried to lay down like a kid jumping into bed and faking sleep with the covers pulled up on the night before Xmas.

At last, the music had started. Over two hours after my arrival, I was finally serenaded by songs from the harp. It was 7:45, so I was going to enjoy these 45 minutes before it was time to go. There were soft drums being tapped. The noise circulated the room, as did various aromas that were being sprayed. The third song was finally with the glass bowls. I was so happy. And then, that was the only song on the bowls. I was so bummed, it kept me mostly lucid during the music. I was not able to relax.

The last two songs had words in them, so I sat up. Many people were singing along. One woman was harmonizing beautifully. Where have these people heard this music before? What is this song? I looked around confused. When the meditative portion of the night ended, I expected we would be finished. It was 8:30 which was the published end time to the event.

I rolled up my yoga mat, folded my blanket and put the cacao mug back on the table. And then the quiet one said “If we could, let’s go around and share our experience.” She handed over a cacao bean pod and whoever spoke had to shake it before they began, and when they finished speaking. This was all adding up to be some kind of religious ritual of sorts. I am a not a fan of any religion. If you replaced the speaker’s word “Spirit” with God, Allah, Yahweh, Mohammed, Little Baby Jesus, we were at the exact same place. Oh no no no thank you.

But as I’ve sat through countless other religious ceremonies in my life, I figured I’d close this one out, too. Again, a few people sure took their time explaining their experiences including one woman who spoke with Mother Cacao. And another woman claimed Joy’s father came to her and he wanted Joy to know he was there. I sure hope my face did not show my annoyance. Here it was nearing 9:00 pm and everyone was still chatty. When I got the cacao bean I quickly said “Very cool experience, but as we live in the physical world, it would be great if you could honor time since perhaps some of us have babysitters or other places to go” and I passed that bean like it was the hot potato.

When it finally got to the ending “this time around” guy addressed my comment, without addressing me directly and said “if spirit wants you to be elsewhere, go be elsewhere.” And mess up your spirit circle? I thought. At last when we were finally dismissed at 9:25 pm I raced out of there. I was in attendance for nearly four hours, and only 45 minutes was actually in music, which was the only reason I went.