Ancient Ayurvedic healing system cleanses mind, body

Treatments, based on individual body composition, include a sugary exfoliation and a warm oil massage given by a personal bodyworker
 
Rebecca Osler, Vancouver Sun

August 31, 2006:-   A funny thing happened on the way to the spa. I had hopped aboard a popular Burrard Street bus. It being about 5 p.m., work-weary transit riders were practically straddling each others' laps. And I found myself standing in the door alcove with a homeless man.

Like most bus riders, I pulled my best urban zombie and stared blankly out the window. Meanwhile, the homeless man looked directly at me.

"Do you do riddles?" he inquired.

I gazed into his bearded face. His eyes, though glazed, seemed genuinely friendly. So, I engaged.

The congenial fellow regaled me with a few jokes, like, "What do you call a gorilla who gardens?" ("a hairy potter") before we both disembarked opposite the Sheraton Wall Centre.

Then we went in opposite directions -- he to scour the trash and sidewalk for recyclables, I to receive a $235 spa treatment.

At Vida Wellness Spa, I slipped into a luxurious robe and slippers and waited for my "bodyworker" in a fragrant lounge filled with the sound of trickling water.

Vida has been offering treatments based on Ayurveda, an ancient Indian healing system, for a decade. But due to the popularity of the discipline, they introduced Ayurvedic body wraps and exfoliations in July.

In a nutshell, the concept is this: everybody has a "dosha," or a personal body constitution. There are three doshas: kapha (calm nature and oilier skin), vata (restless mind and dry skin) and pitta (passionate nature and sensitive skin). The ideal is to become a "tri-dosha," the perfect balance between the categories.

I filled out an extensive form to "discover my Ayurvedic constitution." The questions ranged from innocuous (does your skin burn easily, or do you tan slowly and evenly?) to what I'd deem personal (are you bowel movements irregular, hard and dry or easy and regular?).

Bodyworker Kirsten Fallows assessed the results and declared that I was a pitta.

According to Vida's regional director, Allison Hegedus, Vancouver is no "town without pitta," since about 50 per cent of local clients fall into this category. Interestingly, a high proportion of clients who hail from elsewhere (read: Toronto) are vata.

In her dulcet voice, Fallows explained that the label dictates what sorts of essential oils will be used in the treatment. For pitta, it's lemon grass, fennel, lavender, peppermint and sandalwood.

These oils were mixed into the brown sugar Fallows slathered over my body in the tranquil treatment room. The combined scent was warm and autumnal, like a pumpkin pie or a baked apple. Now c'mon, who wouldn't melt like a slab of butter in the aromatic embrace of a bakery?

Fallows applied the sugar to my legs, feet, arms, back, sides, belly and upper chest -- a host of body parts best described as "everything but the naughty bits." It was gentle at first, but she gradually escalated the abrasion to a fiery frenzy that had me wondering whether I was still the proud owner of arm hair. However, I reasoned, at least I was getting results.

Once the exfoliation was complete, Fallows slipped out while I rinsed off in the shower. My body felt mushy like oatmeal, which was appropriate considering the brown sugar topping.

Then came the 90 minute massage portion, which made use of the same pitta essential oils. Only this time the matrix (warmed oil) felt like molten gold on my skin.

As Fallows massaged me for what seemed like an eternity, my mind drifted off into the realm between waking and dreaming. The combination of the exotic music and the pleasing scent conjured vague hallucinations dating back to childhood -- for a happy moment I was my five-year-old self, lying on my back beside my best friend contemplating the great big, blue sky above and the equally expansive life that laid ahead.

At other moments I imagined that I was actually inside an ancient Indian palace, the saffron-hued light of sunset painting the room.

These idealistic vignettes -- which weren't lifted from the brochure, I swear-- kept floating in and out of my mind until Fallows traced a spiral on my belly and the massage came to a close.

She instructed me to keep the oil on my body and in my hair overnight if possible, explaining that this enables the benefits to penetrate more deeply. Considering it smelled so intoxicating, I was happy to oblige. Vida also sells its own line of dosha products, including face blends, massage oil, roll-on scent, body cream and face/body mist.

When I left the spa, I felt smooth, soft and warm. But did the treatment deliver on its promise to provide more mental balance?

The encounter with the homeless man tugged at my conscience. What cosmic force had enabled me to indulge in a spa treatment, while he eked out basic subsistence?

I'm not going to solve the world's problems by abstaining from spas forever, and I don't believe in banishing all self-indulgence, but the paradox made me aware that I had been taking my life -- and particularly spa experiences -- for granted.

On the bus home, I realized that perhaps my balance had shifted somewhat.

"Boy, am I a lucky person," I thought. And I felt it.

VIDA WELLNESS SPA, The Sheraton Wall Centre Hotel,
1088 Burrard St., 604-682-8410

vidawellness.com, Ayurvedic Body Exfoliation, 120 minutes - $235

© The Vancouver Sun 2006