“Who would you be if no one could see? What song does your soul want to dance to today?” yelled AJ Alvarez, my group’s energizing, inviting force of a guide at Othership in New York’s buzzy Flatiron District.
I was up on the third level of the sauna, part one of the ‘Release’ class I’d signed up for on a pleasant, breezy Saturday morning, quietly cursing myself for thinking I could take the extra intense heat for so long. I was drenched in sweat but grounded in intention. Just as I reached my threshold, we transitioned from breathwork into a somatic sequence that included vocal vibrations, temple tapping, and finally, a collective release. The rhythmic tapping felt strange at first, but soon it anchored my focus, a small gesture with a surprisingly calming effect. We shouted our worries into the dark, our eyes fixed on the dim candlelight flickering at our feet.
I could feel the presence of everyone around me as we hummed in unison, the sound deep and harmonious. We were instructed to smile through every final exhale while a staff member flicked a towel to disperse essential oils into the dense heat. All tension had eased.
Othership, originally founded in Toronto as a space for physical and emotional healing and human connection sans alcohol, is known for its unique social approach to immersive wellness experiences involving somatic movement, live music, sauna and ice bath time, and free flows. It opened in Flatiron just last year and is slated to launch in Williamsburg, one of Brooklyn’s trendiest neighborhoods, after Labor Day. Conversations, transformation, and tears are all encouraged here. Complete with an amphitheater-style tea lounge where guests can gather around a central fireplace for some chit chat, the “social sauna” is one of the only spaces in North America offering emotional wellness programming against a cold and hot therapy backdrop.
Next up was part two of the class: my deeply dreaded ice bath. I’d read that women can reap the benefits of cold exposure at just 50–59°F, and I’d been using that fact for years to avoid icy plunges. But I was determined to challenge myself today. I grabbed the two towels I’d been handed upon walking in, chugged about 10 ounces of water to rehydrate, and completed a mandatory shower rinse before making my way to the next room. My group and I prepared ourselves for the plunge with words of encouragement and nervous smiles. I eyed the chunks of ice in the custom pool with immense trepidation. This was going to be cold. A full 32°F.
Alas, the moment arrived, and my pool-mate and I eased into the freeze. I noticed my feet the most; it’s where the pain felt concentrated. It was almost unbearable. I don’t know how I got through the entire two minutes, but it was likely because of the instructor’s affirmations. It wasn’t just about facing the cold. It was about choosing to stay with discomfort, in the water and in myself, and discovering that I could.
“I am strong!” I exclaimed as I clenched my fists and laughed through the icy burn. The moment we got the green light, we all sprang onto warm ground, shaking, giggling, and fully alive. My pool-mate gave me a high five and a “good job,” while AJ said he wished he’d captured my before-and-after face. He validated the effort it took just to stay in, and I did feel invincible. That sense of community they were aiming for? It was there from start to finish.
I warmed up again in the sauna while I awaited our final session: a guided meditation. Some folks lay on their backs with their feet up against the wall; others caught up with friends or grabbed water. A few minutes later, my hand was on my heart, and I was feeling grateful for the entire experience. The sound bowls filled the space, and slowly, stress faded. We were ready to conquer our weekends with a sense of being rooted and renewed. Free lockers, showers, and products (e.g., soap and body lotion) are provided for guests, and first-timers get a free incense stick on their way out.
From the heat to the ice to the stillness, each phase peeled something back, physically and emotionally, until all that was left was presence.
Pricing starts at $64 for a drop-in session, with membership options beginning at $51 per month.
I stepped back onto the city streets with wet hair, a lighter mind, and a quiet confidence that comes from doing something hard on purpose. At Othership, I didn’t just sweat or freeze or breathe; I let go. I felt. I connected. I came for the wellness, but I stayed for the permission to feel, and the warmth of being held in shared experience. Sometimes healing doesn’t whisper. Sometimes it pulses, sweats, and shivers its way through you, even in the middle of Manhattan.
