It was one of those weeks when everything felt louder than it needed to be. Work. The grocery store. School chat groups. Traffic. By Friday, Ieva looked like someone who needed a week of silence. Just quiet and warmth.
“Sauna tonight,” Alberts said, without further explanation. “Just for the two of us. No big talk.”
He stoked the stove calmly. No rush. The whisks had been prepared the evening before. The lavender oil from istaspirtslietas.lv was already warming in a bowl. The stones were slowly heating to the core, not being “scorched” by excessive heat.
“So long this time,” Ieva whispered as they finally entered the sauna.
“Long because it’s the right way,” Alberts replied, settling onto the lower bench. “Steam must be waited for. Not forced.”
They sat in silence. No one counted minutes, no one measured who sweated more. Only steam. Only birch aroma. Only breath, finally becoming steady.
After a while, Ieva said:
“I remember once my girlfriends took me to a sauna that felt like survival training. We sat on the top bench, it burned, and one couldn’t even get up — she was too overwhelmed by the heat.”
Albert smiled.
“People think heat is the goal. But heat is just a tool. The real goal is the steam — the way you feel afterward.”
Then he quietly added:
“Same as in life. No need to rush faster — you need to learn to be still.”
Later, sitting on the porch with warm tea in their hands, Ieva was silent — but in a different way. Her face was relaxed. Her shoulders lowered. She no longer rushed forward in her thoughts.
She said just one sentence:
“That was a sauna. Not a competition.”