Purification

Had dinner at friends’ house last night and the topic of Buddhism came up. We had gotten on the subject of our imperfections, those things about ourselves that we self-examining sort never seem to cease trying to smooth out and make better. (Sometimes it feels more like a battle to the death.) Then someone said, This is why practicing Buddhism is good.

In that moment I felt the comment was like putting fancy perfume on an unbathed body. I found myself arguing that we in the West have co-opted Buddhism. We’ve skimmed off the juicy bits. We have the occasional one-hour sit in a loaned out girl scout’s cabin, judiciously learn to breathe from the diaphragm, carefully pick up spiders with tissue and set them out of doors instead of tromping on them and, satisfied, we call ourselves practicing Buddhists.

I also argued that we don’t really know what the hell Buddhism is. (By that I really meant I, and if I didn’t actually argue it last night, I am now.) If Buddhism is a religion, which I am categorically opposed to, there are surely some practices we don’t know about that can mess up a kid as much as Catholicism and Mormonism can. In the cold like of day all those thoughts sounds just that: cold. My friends, and all we good intentioned in the West, are simply borrowing it as a philosophy of life, and one of the basic tenets of all spiritual practices is intention.

But I couldn't leave it as just that. So, is Buddhism a religion? First, I suppose, you’d have to ask, Whose Buddhism? Japanese? Indonesian? Indian? As the original form of Buddhism was handed down it took on different forms. Some are stricter than others. I’ve tinkered a wee wee bit with Zen Buddhism, have tried sitting in zazen meditation and I find it too strict. This morning I started reading that purification rituals figure into the practice of Tibetan Buddhism. Incense burning, chanting and making object offerings. To my Western mind this seems easier, the arts and crafts version.

Then there are spa purification rituals, many Indonesian, that are spiritual in nature, as I’ve touched on in previous posts. Here’s another one: Jamu Asian spa rituals. Multi-star hotels offer them, like Four Seasons in Las Vegas and Spa Las Palmas in California. Jamu is an Indonesian tradition mixing an array of herbal ingredients that can be used internally or externally to promote health, healing and relaxation. The practice was originally passed down as a way to relieve sore muscles from long hours working in the rice field.

For the majority of us, Jamu is now mostly recognized as a line of products. Barring access to them, if you have some salt—Epsom, Morton—you can toss some into a warm bath, light a candle and some pretty-smelling incense and perform your own self-purification today. Other than those few items, all you need is intention.

St. Theresa

Yesterday I behaved rather unlike myself. . . Ooh, back up. I read somewhere that to be a “good blogger” the author should state clearly the post’s subject within the first few sentences, just like any good writing. Because I aim to be a very good blogger, and because my blog is about The Land of Spa, let me say here that the topic of this post is only tangentially about spa-ing. I shall elaborate later.

I repeat, yesterday I behaved rather unlike myself. For the first time in a long time I received one of those chain letter type emails, the kind that require that you bother several of your best friends by forwarding them the email and then further asking them to bother several of their best friends to continue the chain. The chain must not be broken at all costs and as you sit in front of your computer you sort of freeze with the weight of it all: Bother your friends and get flak, or don’t bother them and forever wonder What if?

Those echains used to circulate around a lot but along the way people began to get annoyed by them and it mostly stopped except for the ones sent those people—you know the type: nice enough but not the hippest number on the dance floor.

Generally, it’s the topics of these emails that rendered the participant uncool. (Get ready because this is where this post becomes tangentially about spa-ing.) Sometimes they are just workaday spread-the-love kind of e-chains, but more often they are religion-based and thrive on fear, like all religion. I consider myself spiritual and I do try to live by spiritual principles. In fact, it is the spiritual intent behind spa treatments—healing hands, and the like—that I probably drew me to the subject of spas to begin with.

So when the echain came yesterday invoking St. Theresa, “the saint of little ways,” telling me all I had to do to make a wish of my choosing come true was bother my friends, well I don’t mind saying I could have used a wish fulfilled at that moment. So I looked at the sender; she definitely wasn’t what I considered one of those people, and I read the whole echain, which stated that I needed to send it in five(!) minutes, and I admit it. I caved. I sent it two 12 of (what used to be?) my closest friends.

Within moments I was shot back an email by my trigger-happy friend A (you know who you are), telling me how much she “hates” those echains. A couple of my other always-game friends (I love you T and M), not only didn’t get bothered by my e-intrusion, but they actually sent the chain along and bothered 12 of their friends. How do I know? Because one of those friends sent the same echain back to me today. I assume the rest just clicked delete as fast as their little fingers could reach it.

On the fourth day the echain says my wish will come true. I have three more days to see if A or T, M and I have the last laugh.

Correction

It has been brought to my attention that in a previous blog, A Case for Mindfulness, while praising the blog, The Healing Power of Laughter I failed to link to it. So here it is. Apologies--though I've also got it on my list of favorite links.

Old Spa Days

In a previous blog I talked about a story in the New York Times about the idea that the spa industry might be leading up to the need to standardize spa treatments—how else to insure that you’re getting your money’s worth?

I threatened to get in contact with one of the spa experts whose quote I found. . .I think I called it patronizing. I did call Neil Jacobs, the senior VP of Asia-Pacific Operations for the Four Seasons. (Or as he described himself, “I look after all the hotel activities and then look after the spas at nights.”) The quote in question, which I will paraphrase here, was that one could receive as good a Thai massage on the beaches of Thailand for five bucks as one in a Manhattan spa for $150.

Had to get to him through a publicist and she wanted to know the nature of my question. (It’s for a story for Spa Asia.) I told her it related to the NYT story—and then smoothed out the edges of my question so he’d agree to speak. It was only a day or two after the story appeared and in my innocence I imagined that he might be a bit contrite about his comment.

He wasn’t. In fact, I got the sense that he doesn’t do contrite. Jacobs was full of controversial opinions and not afraid to express them. I really liked him for that. He was not at all the kind of person you’d expect to oversee spa operations, especially in Asia where I imagine gentility might trump crusty bluntness. I liked that he didn’t walk a diplomatic line. Jacobs is British by birth—but quick to point out that he’s a naturalized American citizen with a home in California. His voice is husky, like he smokes cigarettes, and though his comments are not measured he knows a lot.

He does feel that the Asians have it over the West—even though I never asked him to comment on his comment, this much was clear. He feels, he said, that “they are intuitive healers while North American massage treatments feel too automated, like they have no heart.” (I should point out that he gives proper credit to Native American healing rituals and to Eastern European spa culture too.) So, he says, the Asians’ technique might not be as perfect but “their touch in many ways feels perhaps more spiritual, consequently more meaningful.”

He feels that luxury hotels have filled a gap by supplying an environment (a fancy, clean hotel) that Westerners feel more comfortable visiting. “In the old days, you would get traditional reflexology in a dingy back room somewhere, so Westerners were never exposed.” Sounds like a scene from The Quiet American.

He was fascinating to speak with. Bet he has lots of interesting stories to tell. Now if I can just get myself to Singapore I could contact him, he could put me up at the Four Seasons and then over dinner or a cocktail I could persuade him to tell me about the old spa days.

A Case for Mindfulness

It’s interesting how the burgeoning spa industry is about holistic healing—at least in part; the other part is our desire to turn back the clock, or freeze-frame it at the very least, which I think is my next point.

It’s so easy, even for those of us who are ‘students’ of it, to lose sight of the reason we care about the land of spa. All these ancient treatments and practices—Ayurveda, Native American healing rituals, Balinese casting of the dream ball, European water cures, yoga—that we feel moved explore, all rise from this central idea of nurturing mindfulness.

The question of whether these practices can coexist in purity as multinational corporations that are laying claim to them is something I contemplate, and about which I feel a little vigilant.

To that end, I feel the need to lighten up a bit. The other day I came upon a blog that I really like, written by a comedian/clinical psychologist called The Healing Power of Laughter. I like the dots he’s connecting about the healing power of laughter. It’s a smart blog and you should check it out.

Hangover Massage: Bridging Another Information Gap

Sometimes I feel like I’ve given myself the spa-industry role of designated party pooper, the one spoiling all the fun of going to a spa by bringing up pesky questions like, Are we, the spa-goers, getting healthful, informed treatments? I’m always asking you to wonder if we are we at mercy of spa land’s tremendous growth spurt, a time when therapeutic advice and practices can feel inconsistent, as random as a flip of a coin.

Yet the more I talk to professionals who are overseeing the industry I realize that these are questions they are asking themselves, too, and that they are working towards a cohesiveness. I had an phone appointment to speak with Luisa Anderson, who is one of four senior Asia Pacific spa directors for the Four Seasons in the Maldives.

Coincidentally, a half hour before the interview into my email inbox appeared today’s recommendation from Daily Candy, a city guide to "new and undiscovered" stuff from restaurants to spas. Today’s installment announced Bliss Chicago’s hangover treatment. Here’s how it reads in part:

Spice up your hangover regime with a Hangover Herbie treatment at Bliss Spa. We promise it’s worth tearing your face off the toilet seat. It’s 105 minutes of ecstasy (which is more than you can say for the bartender). The magic word is detox, and you’ll get it from head to toe. First, you’ll be rubbed down and wrapped up in essential oils like lavender, bergamot lemon, thyme, peppermint, and eucalyptus. Next comes an intensive facial, minus extractions, to exfoliate, hydrate, and cleanse. For your pounding headache, you’ll revel in the antimigraine scalp massage. And while a mask sets in, there’s a fifteen-minute foot rub (hangovers hurt all over). In the end you’ll be watered down, beaming, and feel almost sober.

Hang on. When I was covering spas, a massage therapist I spoke with advised strongly against having a massage while hung over because manipulating the tissues can cause a resurgence of the toxins.

So what’s true?

Luisa says that some forms of massage are okay. Deep tissue can “mobilize the toxins out of the system so that they can more quickly excrete them from the body.” Is Hangover Herbie a deep tissue massage? They don’t say, but it doesn’t sound it to me. There’s a good question to ask next time you find yourself in a situation in which this detail matters.

Also, a massage while in a drunken state is never a good idea.

Just when you're ready to get down to it

Today I’ve been having a hard time focusing. First I’ve been trading emails and phone calls from spa people who live in far-flung places like Bali, the Maldives and Singapore. But we keep missing each other because where they’re at it’s already tomorrow. Double insult: Can’t be there. Can’t make contact with “there.”

This morning my inbox had emails from people saying yes, they’d love to talk to me, setting a time for two hours before I was even up to read their email. There’s an 11-hour difference and basically our worlds are flipped upside down. So I’ve been leaving messages on cell phones, contacting publicists, saying I’ll call tomorrow. Must go to bed early and be ready to sound cogent and chatty about the spa industry at 6 AM.

When I get like this, and I’m in front of my computer (and no one else is around to hear me), I go to the Sai Baba web site and click on the Sai Gayatri Mantra and listen to it, like, incessantly as a backdrop. It’s wonderful. I’ve tried to download it but, though there are many, many versions, none are like the one on Sai Baba’s site and that one is not download-able. There are only about three verses and the female voice is just so hypnotic. Better than a fast shot of whiskey—as if I drank whiskey—to unbend the addled mind. So on my way to the website I thought that I’d get put the link on my blog today so as to share the found peace. It would also satisfy the need for a blog post for the day, weary me rationalized. Well, the dang web site is down temporarily. But that’s not going to stop me from giving you Sai Baba’s web link. It should be back up soon.

And also this quote, which I believe comes from Charlotte Rampling, the gifted, gorgeous English actor. I wrote down the quote on a little scrap of paper, which I seem to have kept for at least five years. Here goes y’all:

“No matter how you feel, you have to act like you are very popular with yourself; very relaxed and purposeful; very unconfused and not like you are walking through the sunshine singing in chains.”

Good day from me Charlotte and Sai Baba.