No pleasure, no gain

May 8, 2008

Dear Leslie,

Big Sur's magic is as powerful as the last time I was here 20 years ago. The garden at Esalen is a kaleidoscope of greens, reds, oranges, yellows and purples against the rippling blue-gray backdrop of the Pacific. As sundown approaches the sea turns milky and a light fog begins to shroud these mountain peaks in the ocean. This is a place for dreaming.

My roommate at Esalen, Peter, is a financial analyst from the U.K. here for yoga. Of the 12 people in my workshop, one is from England, one from Wales, two from Australia, one from Germany and one from that most foreign of lands, L.A. We have gathered to learn more about the wisdom of our bodies.

The workshop leader, Johanna Putnoi, has written a book titled "Senses Wide Open." It's about feeling comfortable in your own skin, an ability animals and most children have but which begins to deteriorate with age in humans. After childhood must of us begin to want to look different from we look, to be different from we are, to feel different from we feel. This week we have been learning to understand why that is and to reintroduce ourselves to the world of the senses, a world lost in the whirl to whip our bodies and our lives into shape.

No pain, no gain is the wrong attitude, Johanna says. Her motto is "No pleasure, no gain."

Esalen is a sensual feast anyway. It could be the setting for the Garden of Eden. The ocean breezes nourish the plants with moisture in the morning and evening, and the sun usually breaks through to make the afternoons golden.

The meals in the lodge are incredible in their bounty, a smorgasbord of often exotic soups and salads and entrees. One meal the recipes might originate from India. Last night the main course was good old American pork roast and mashed potatoes and gravy. At one end of the dining hall is the peanut butter station, where a PBJ sandwich can be made at any hour.

The baths riding over the ocean are fed by faintly sulfuric hot springs. After a soak, masseuses and masseurs at their tables in the baths await to rub you the right way while the waves lull you into some Neverland.

The workshop is going well. So far Johanna has shown us how the way we breathe can affect our posture and our outlook on life, how changing the way we walk can alter our attitude, and how we can free ourselves from the constrictions trauma and movements of habit have placed on our bodies. The approach goes by the name somatics, the philosophy that all experience is manifested in the body.

In three days my energy level has zoomed. There have been moments of sheer exhilaration, of feeling feelings I had become numb to.

I can see the same happening in the others in the workshop. We have bonded, like strangers thrown together on some foreign shore. We make new discoveries every day and delight in each other's reactions.

James, one of the people in the workshop, used to be an actor. He has such an infectious giggle that TV producers used to hire him to sit in the audience when their shows were taped. Everyone in the workshop started laughing when he told us that. James started giggling and we laughed harder and James couldn't stop giggling and we didn't stop laughing until our bodies were satisfied. When your senses are wide open, you are wide open, and every breath becomes an opportunity for joy.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is a former reporter for the Southeast Missourian.