“Reader, I dropped trou.” Each and every pore on my body is flexed shut. My anatomy — I’ll spare you the details — is visibly cold. I had thought November would be a mild month for Big Sur, California, and I was only half right: It was a beautiful and warm day to be naked outdoors among strangers, but by nightfall, freezing winds are blowing over the Pacific and into my bloodstream. Then I plunge my body into a hot mineral bath, and every cell in my body sighs. This is hour seven at the Esalen Institute, where I’ve elected
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