Inside Cascada: Aquatherapy, Forbidden Fruit & Terra Mae

Forbidden City

When I return now, it is a mix of nostalgia and wonder and freedom and fright.

This is the city where I was born and then taken away from. I did not want to move away to the woods. It is also a city of great lost love. My heart shattered here so long ago, and somehow that heartache still rests in my bones.

The sound of crows and far-off sirens. Bus brakes and bass. Rotten-to-the-core wood and hot pavement. Creeping vines and steaming compost.

It all signals one thing to my brain:

Trauma bond.

I love this city.
I hate this city.

I love the future of the world and fear for it.

I don’t know what’s ahead.

I’ve witnessed some of the worst follies in myself and my friends this year. Collectively, it seems us millennials have entered the midlife crisis phase. There are lists of the “interesting” choices people our age are making to cope.

I’ve made several on the list.

I plead the fifth.

In solidarity, I sit with my friends who are incarcerated, unemployed, surfing couches, flipping assets, taking risks, relapsing and recovering. We’re grieving. Ohhh, we’re all grieving the what-ifs.

We’re divorcing. Having that last wave of babies. Getting scans. Getting treatments. Launching brands and kids and campaigns.

Being broke.

We’re going through some sticky ish.

All of us.

So when people ask:

What’s going on?

I say:

All of it. And none of it.

I’m falling down every day and telling myself I’m falling into place. But I’ve fallen through rock bottom, to hell and back on the wings of an angel, only to fall off again and land somewhere short of purgatory.

I grapple with shame and pride and fear.

I try not to judge others, and I judge myself.

I hold myself to rigorous standards and then let myself down.

I ask forgiveness.

I try again.

Grace is what I’m lent.
But sometimes it feels like it’s rented.

Mercy is what I beg for.

And the chance to start again.

I’m quite dramatic with my errors and situations, and even worse, I store all the worry of them in my body.

Often I block it out with busyness.

Work. Art. Cleaning.

I work out relentlessly just to get the energy out.

It’s been 60 days since all of that thinking broke me and I went to the hospital with psychosis.

I’d held so much in for eight years without needing help on that level.

Then I did.

And it opened new doors for me to talk about the things that matter most to me, including our mental health and wellness.

I’ve been in the healing space long before I had a diagnosis.

Before we called it a “healing space.”

Before wellness became an industry and cold plunges were everywhere.

Back when a lot of these ideas still lived on the fringes of hippie culture in some of the wildest parts of Oregon.

I started seeking hot springs and aquatherapies as a way to soothe and rescue my anxious mind while dealing with what I would later understand was postpartum depression.

I didn’t know much about bodies or how they worked. I didn’t understand the nuance of brain chemistry or the workings of the genes we inherit.

After 14 years of searching, I know a bit more.

For years, I dreamed of starting an alternative healing business of some sort. Perhaps I’d blog my own stories. Maybe someday I’d be invited to give TED Talks on human resilience.

And cold plunges, obviously.

Instead, I find myself here.

At CASCADA.

A thermal springs hotel in the city I love to hate.

My home away from home.

Portland.

CASCADA

CASCADA is nothing short of sensationally stunning.

The lobby is planted with greenery that climbs the walls. There is an opulence to it, but one rooted in natural materials, plants, water and light.

Almost immediately, I feel at ease.

My room is a Skyloft Suite, complete with a living room and balcony overlooking Alberta Street Pub, the West Hills of Portland and a church with two twin steeples.

A spiral staircase leads to my sleeping loft.

There is laundry. A full kitchen. A beautifully appointed bathroom. Curtains and lighting are controlled from panels downstairs and beside the bed upstairs.

My name is displayed on the television.

A welcome bag greets me with labradorite blessings.

I ignore the Applegate Valley wine for now.

It’s time to visit what I actually came for.

The water.

Aquatherapy

Because I’m staying onsite, I have unlimited access to CASCADA’s Thermal Springs.

This turns out to be a very good thing.

The springs are divided into three distinct environments.

The Conservatory is lush and social, filled with tropical plants, comfortable daybeds and a warm vitality pool.

The aquatherapy experience is built around the ancient practice of moving between heat, cold and rest. Instead of rushing through a prescribed circuit, guests can move at their own pace and pay attention to what their bodies are asking for.

Outside, the Secret Garden brings the ritual into the open air with a hot pool, sauna, rainfall features and fire pit.

Solarium rooms offer shelter from Portland rain while still allowing daylight to pour in.

There is hot tea and water.

The sound of water everywhere.

I am enthralled and yet The Sanctuary calls.  a silent underground retreat featuring therapeutic pools, steam, sauna, and a cold plunge designed for uninterrupted reflection and restoration.

The lighting here is so soothing and the pools each have their own specific purpose. I spent a lot of time in the ambient temperature pool, just being held by the sanctity of the water. 

The mineral springs were infused with magnesium and iodized water bubbles. I found myself clinging the wall of water, letting each worry flow out of me and away. I spent many hours here, in silent reflection, in reverence, letting the pain wash out. 

My favorite place became what I called “the egg” a heated arm chair within a red light salt lounge. I could breathe easy here, relaxed.

With my all access pass I made it down to the waters just at opening, only a few other people were there.

This contrast between temperatures is intended to improve circulation, ease muscle tension, reduce inflammation, and promote deep relaxation. I find that a few sessions of this therapy and I can find lasting relief from mental pain for weeks and even months.

I crave this therapy. I long for it deep in my soul.

Forbidden Fruit

Eventually, one must leave the water and eat.

Forbidden Fruit is CASCADA’s all-day wellness café, led by Executive Chef Megan Sky. Her approach focuses on seasonal ingredients and produce sourced from Pacific Northwest farms, with dishes prepared without seed oils.

The menu includes smoothies, avocado toast, Turkish eggs, grain bowls with grass-fed beef and Japanese sweet potatoes, salads, sandwiches and plant-based options.

There is playfulness here too. Many of the dishes take inspiration from classic fairy tales.

I was lucky enough to attend the café’s opening and taste my way through a multitude of Chef Megan’s dishes.

Incredible.

Beautiful.

And after spending hours moving between pools, steam rooms and saunas, deeply appreciated.

I’m even a member of their secret society now (shh)

Terra Mae at Cascada

Then there is Terra Mae.

CASCADA’s signature restaurant is also led by Chef Megan Sky and explores the historic culinary connections between Portugal and Japan, cultures brought into contact through Portuguese trade beginning in the 16th century.

That history becomes a jumping-off point for a menu rooted here in the Pacific Northwest.

The menu changes with the seasons and includes seafood, meats, vegetables, breads and shareable plates incorporating both Portuguese and Japanese influences.

Dinner here is meant to be exploratory, a place to try something new to you.

The plates are best shared. The flavors are rich and layered, they way I prefer my experiences and friends.

I especially love the udon.

It also happens to match my egg purse perfectly.

I love when life imitates art imitates….what you make it!

My time at Cascada was more beautiful and relaxing than I expected. Three days flew by, I only left the property once. I spent many hours in quiet reflection and gratitude. It is my sincere hope that places of healing and health become more prominent and accessible for all,

I am still learning how much emotion a body can carry. How memory attaches itself to places. How grief can live beside joy. How you can love a city that reminds you of some of the hardest chapters of your life.

Portland is still complicated for me.

The crows, ugh.

The sirens.

The bass.

The wet wood and pavement and vines.

So are pieces of every version of myself I’ve been here.

The child who didn’t want to leave.

The girl whose heart broke.

The woman who came back.

The woman who broke again.

And the woman who keeps getting back up.

CASCADA is located in Portland’s Alberta Arts District. Visitors can experience the Thermal Springs with a day pass, reserve spa treatments, dine at Forbidden Fruit or Terra Mae, or stay overnight.

Hotel guests have access to fitness and movement amenities, with thermal access depending on the stay or package selected. Suites offer full kitchens and residential-style features that also make longer stays possible.

For guests who want to build their stay around wellness, CASCADA also offers retreat-style experiences combining thermal access, movement and guided wellness practices.