Adios Esalen

I have to say that I'm grateful that I was at Esalen during celebrity death week. I have a tendency to get sucked in to the media blitz whenever something like this happens. I overheard some grumblings about Michael Jackson but only when I checked Yahoo did I realize he had died. Esalen participants are more interested in Geshtalt, meditation, yoga, chi, and processing than Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.

I spent three nights at the wonderful oasis. My skin is silky soft thanks to the twice daily sulphur baths. 

On Thursday night I did a reading and Q&A. I told my crazy publishing story and was then asked a myriad of questions including, "What intention did you set in order for your book to get published, and so fast?" I thought about it for a minute. I don't really consciously operate under 'intentions' and the like. As I contemplated my answer the woman clarified. "What do you think you put out in the world that got such good results?" I wanted to answer "it was just good luck," but an answer like that doesn't fly at Esalen. "Manifest", "Flow", "Intention" are the words that are often tossed around. I settled with "Passion. I think I felt very passionate about my process and it manifested in the book being published." 

I have not seen so many naked bodies since...ever! I'm going to a pool party tonight and I'm not sure how I'll keep my bathing suit on. It is just so freeing and oddly normal when everyone is naked. When running into people outside of the baths, I found myself saying, "Oh, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

On Friday, Ann and her awesome friend/assistant Kinga (from Hungary) went to the Henry Miller Library in town. His papers, letters, etc. are stored there, but it is also a wonderful bookstore and performance space with a big, fat O'Malley-esque cat wandering the premises. For a time, Miller lived in the area and wrote extensively about it. I can't wait to read the books I bought there. Later we had lunch 'off-campus' at Nepenthe, a restaurant on a cliff overlooking the Pacific. If you remember, last summer there was a terrible fire that devastated the Big Sur area. Driving up the coast you can see the charred remains of that fire - baron hills, etc. Esalen was threatened and had to close for a month. 

Ann's friends, Gail and Eric, came down from SF on Friday and I had a great time chatting with them while Ann taught her class on Friday night. Kinga loaned me her yurt for the night as she went up to SF for the David Byrne concert (so jealous). I heard animal footsteps all night.

I drove home yesterday, my car hugging the curves of the beautiful California coast. I am constantly enamored and comforted by this landscape.

I took Route 1 until I merged to the 101 where I could finally get good radio reception. I zipped down the coast blasting Michael Jackson, as most of the stations were playing tributes to him. Despite his weird, tragic, potentially pedophiliac life, there's no denying that his music was the soundtrack to so many of our lives. I opened the moon roof and boogied as much as I could from behind the wheel. I thought about Neverland as I drove through Santa Barbara. Due to traffic, I exited the 101 in the valley and drove along Ventura until the 405. At a red light I looked over and saw a street blocked off and tons of people wandering around. I thought it might be a block party until I noticed some media and realized it must have been the Jackson compound (on Hazelton in Encino). Only in L.A...

I arrived home safe n' sound, rested yet giddy from the wonder of it all.