Spa Brain
A Health Retreat Visit Offers Life-Changing Lessons in Pacing and Openness
By Stephen Altschuler
When my wife and I entered the gates of Rancho La Puerta, a fitness spa in Tecate, Mexico (the oldest fitness spa in North America), it was a first for both of us. We’d been to Calistoga and Harbin, of course, but this was the full treatment, and I have to say, we were a bit overwhelmed. It was like going through a smorgasbord line and just not knowing what to choose or when to stop. It was almost enough to make us want to shut the door and read piles of books all week, never venturing out into the cauldron of classes, lectures, hikes, treatments, and communal meals.
They looked so tantalizing, though. An early morning hike to the spa’s organic gardens for a tour and a gourmet breakfast. A flexibility class, sorely needed by this middle-aged writer. Pilates. A bird walk. A lecture on dealing with difficult people. A spring-rain shower-massage. All of which were designed to stimulate chi, polish chakras, stretch hamstrings, increase knowledge, tone muscles, and shave off some pounds.
But sitting down to dinner that first night, another guest — an older woman who has aged quite gracefully and is a 13-year veteran of Rancho La Peurta — looked at us admonishingly and said, “Around Tuesday or Wednesday, beware of Spa-Brain. Don’t forget to include lots of naps into your week.”
As it turned out, this was very good advice. The Ranch, as they call it, was so chock-full of mind and body goodies that we got good and exhausted by mid-week of our weeklong stay. “Pilates?” I cried to my wife, Ruth. “No, please, not Pilates!” That nap on Wednesday afternoon felt mighty sweet, despite the guilt I felt afterwards.
But once we found our pace, spa-brain melded with spa-heart-and-soul, and we were able to get off the gerbil wheel and just receive. Receiving is not an easy concept for us moderns who are so used to giving all the time. When we discovered the virtues of receiving, our spa stay deepened into a transformative experience. And this was not just about settling into massages: it included receiving the rugged mountain landscape on early morning hikes (a unique feature of the Ranch), receiving the delicious mostly vegetarian diet, prepared by a creative Mexican staff, receiving the birds and flowers and sculptures and fountains that graced the grounds of this obviously loved place.
It involved receiving people as well, for a spa is only as good as the people that run it and visit it. Phyllis Pilgrim, for example, the spa’s director of spiritual practices, led the meditation hikes and the writing/yoga workshops. Pilgrim had us quiet our busy minds and follow her rhythmic and very grounded Chi Gong at the base of Mount Kuchumaa, the sacred mountain which first inspired the founders of the spa. This is a woman who survived, as a child with her family, the imprisonment and forced marches by the Japanese in Indonesia during World War II. Her spirit still very intact, she inspired us with tales of how ancient Mexican shamans inhabited this area in northern Baja California and were supposedly buried near the top of Kuchumaa.
And Raymond Caelen, a former Belgian Olympic gymnast and coach, runs his flexibility and strength training classes like a drill sergeant, but has the respect and admiration of spa-goers who are willing to stick with him throughout the week. In the men’s flexibility class, which I attended, Raymond worked us hard as he paced the floor, making adjustments to our recalcitrant bodies. One of my compatriots, Cameron Smith, a financial manager from New York, has been training with Raymond for years. “There used to be a more extensive men’s program, which Raymond ran,” Cameron told me. “But things change and the spa began to put less emphasis on it.”
Nationwide, men only account for 29% of all spa-goers. (The consensus among the men I spoke to is that the mostly vegetarian diet may be the reason: Men, for the most part, like meat). This particular week, there were more men than usual since it was couples week (22 out of a total guest count of 150), with such programs as Partner Thai Massage, dance classes, volleyball, restorative yoga, and a series of seminars by Abe Wagner, a Denver psychologist whose specialty is interpersonal communications. An entertaining and humorous speaker, some of his topics included Reaching Rapid Rapport, Breaking the Communications Barrier, and Personal and Professional Partnerships. Another very dynamic couple, Dr. Harriet Wrye and Jim Wheeler, demonstrated that life could still be adventurous in your 60s with their slide shows on climbing Kilimanjaro and exploring the former headhunter tribes of Indonesia.
And the Mexican staff, from the head gardener to the chief groundskeeper to the chef to the certified massage practitioners, was equally impressive with its skill and passion, and ability to speak English. The Ranch is the second largest employer in the area (the Tecate brewery is the largest).
It was a nice mix of heart, head, and body. But even now, several weeks after returning, I feel bad that I missed some of the events — that lingering spa-brain that wishes it could do and experience it all.
Leaving Rancho La Puerta after our week, we drove, dazed, through downtown Tecate, a dusty, busy border town. It was a bit shocking after the peace and pace of the spa, but somehow we stayed above it, still floating on the surface of a kind of calm inner sea. When the experiencer was able to step back from the experience and observe, spa-brain had transformed into spa-heart and finally into spa-soul.
The U.S. Border guard peered in and asked where we’d been. Hearing it was Rancho La Puerta and seeing our serene expressions, he nodded knowingly and waved us through.
Stephen Altschuler is a writer living in Sebastopol CA. His latest book is The Mindful Hiker: On the Trail to Find the Path (DeVorss Publications, 2004). For more information about his books and workshops, see: www.mindfulhiker.com
