Articles

New Feng Shui Arrives From India
By TATIANA BONCOMPAGNI

The dozens of hanging crystals, small mirrors, and Chinese coins that used to bedeck Christine Kim's brownstone are pretty much gone. Recently, the interior designer discovered vastu shastra, an Indian cousin of the feng shui Ms. Kim used to study. "Vastu just resonates deeper with me," says Ms. Kim, whose Brooklyn, N.Y., home is now a sanctuary of airy space, wood and cotton furnishings.

Banish the bamboo. Just when feng-shui home accessories are hitting Bed, Bath & Beyond, a new contender has entered the spiritual design ring: vastu, the ancient Indian art of architecture and decoration. Both disciplines argue that you can improve the quality of your life -- your income, your love life, your happiness -- by redecorating and redesigning your home in line with certain spiritual principles. But while feng shui has sparked a boom in miniwaterfalls and zen rock gardens, the major elements of vastu are "sunrise" and "sunset" colors, natural fabrics, wood, pottery, flowers and metals such as brass or copper.

Little-known until a spate of design books a couple of years ago popularized it -- "I used to have to beg people to come out to vastu workshops," says Manhattan-based vastu consultant Kathleen Cox -- the Indian discipline now has some mainstream fans. It's "gaining popularity in the U.S.," says Michelle Snyder, spokeswoman for the American Society of Interior Designers, as a new "spiritual-design option." Last year, Fairfield, Iowa-based Maharishi Global Construction, an architectural and development consulting firm that specializes in vastu, advised on the construction of $90 million of residential and commercial properties, up from $13 million in 1999.

While vastu is still a niche discipline, it's getting a boost, say advocates, from the popularity of other Indian imports like yoga. Vastu was first written about in the Vedas, a set of four religious treatises that date to around 6,000 B.C. But it wasn't until a few years ago that it hit the mainstream, thanks in part to the popularity of feng shui. (The two share some similarities, like the use of a geometric map to dissect homes into different quadrants.)

Some vastu designers say that it's the Indian school's lesser reliance on crystals and other "superstitious" icons that has some homeowners converting. Take Peter Stranger, for example. He soured on feng shui when a Chinese guru instructed him to hang a beaded curtain at the bottom of a set of stairs leading to his front entrance, ostensibly to stop the flow of money from his Los Angeles home. "It would have looked ridiculous," laughs the former chief executive. He now has vastu-prescribed copper plates and a water fountain to help balance the energy.

OM IMPROVEMENTS

It takes a special kind of person to enjoy a place like The Ashram.

Set in the Santa Monica Mountains, just minutes from Malibu, Calif., The Ashram is less spa than boot camp, but the good news is that naval-gazing is kept to a minimum, and the food, although notoriously meager, is surprisingly good. A week at The Ashram is about the most fun anyone could ever expect to have hiking up to five hours a day while constantly being reminded to "hydrate, hydrate!" by the spa's guides and instructors.

The instructors have no small part in defining the Ashram experience: They lead the daily 10-16 mile hikes, weight and pool classes and yoga sessions, and are all trained in the fine art of pre-hike foot taping. Days are long, and nights, due to the 5:30 A.M. wake-up, are woefully short. But after a few days, all the clean living and fresh air kicks in, and waking up with the roosters becomes less traumatic.

The Ashram experience begins on Sunday afternoon when guests, generally a slightly nervous lot resembling the cast of Survivor just prior to being dropped in the jungle, are whisked away from one of two pickup points in the Los Angeles area. Then follows a short van ride to the spa, which on first glance looks surprisingly humble--especially given that the whole week costs $3,300. As many as 15 can be accommodated at one time, but Catharina Hedberg, The Ashram's enthusiastic, Swedish-born director, says she likes to take only 12 guests per week so that each person gets enough attention and a feeling of intimacy between the guests can be established.

Intimacy is key, as bathrooms are shared and most guests end up bunking two to a room, although there are singles available for those who can't stomach the idea of sharing personal space with a stranger. However, since the singles are closet-sized, it's best to go for one of the doubles. Ask for the so-called Princess Room: It's the biggest. And the screened-in porch is not a bad option for those who love fresh air and don't mind going to bed listening to coyotes howling at the moon. All the rooms are spartanly decorated, and forget about hooking up to the Internet. The spa has one connection, and it's dial-up.

The geodesic yoga dome. A luxurious vacation isn't the reason successful professionals--and celebrities such as Opraj Winfrey, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Ashley Judd--routinely sign up for a "break" at The Ashram, though. Getting a renewed outlook on life and dropping a few (or more) pounds is. That's why promptly after checking in to The Ashram guests have the option of getting weighed and measured in 14 different body places, including the obvious (waist, hip and thigh) and less obvious (neck, knee and ankle). It's a scary proposition, but by week's end guests are happy they have something by which to chart their progress.

From Monday morning on, the week moves at breakneck speed. After breakfast (an egg and some fruit) and foot taping, guests pile into The Ashram's two vans and hit the canyons of the Santa Monica Mountains for the daily forced march. The terrains change from steep hills, to rocky ravines, to sandy beaches, but they all leave in their wake sore body parts and painful blisters. The hikes are followed by a quick drive back to the spa and then an hour-long yoga session. After that, there's lunch--nori vegetarian sushi rolls and tacos were the biggest hits of the week--and a brief period of rest, during which most of the group either naps or attempts to connect with the outside world via cell phone. Every afternoon starts with an hour-long class in The Ashram's 98-degree pool, which is also used for the optional watsu (water/shiatsu) massage session.

Guests do underwater resistance exercises and then play a friendly game of volleyball. From the pool, it's up to the weight room, where various abdominal exercises, push-ups and arm lifts are performed with the aid of big plastic balls and free weights. An hour of agony later, guests are gently herded back up to the yoga dome for a meditation-heavy hour of yoga, and back down for dinner--a bowl of lentil soup or tofu-garnished salad. Then, around 9 P.M., it's crawl into bed time. Constant exercise is essential to the program.

There's no pampering. The hour of massage that each of the guests is entitled to every day can sometimes be the most painful of the day, since pushing the lactic acid out of overworked muscles (necessary to prevent the onset of debilitating muscle soreness the next day) can be as punishing as it sounds. Still, after hiking 75 miles and practicing 12 hours of yoga, guests come away from The Ashram feeling miraculously rested and ready to take on the world. In short, it's the best vacation you never wanted to take. For more information, call (818) 222 6900.

Forbes Fact

Created in 1978, the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area, which stretches across 153,075 acres, is the world's largest urban national park, twice the size of San Francisco's 73,000-acre Golden Gate National Recreation Center. Within its boundaries, the park entirely contains the city of Malibu and divides in two the city of Los Angeles, making L.A. the only city in the world to be divided by a national park. Additionally, the park, which was originally shared by the Chumash and Gabrielleno-Tongva American Indians, is now home to more than 1,000 archeological sites and at least 25 rare, threatened or endangered species.