From Hip To Housewife

Canyon Ranch in Lenox, Massachusetts

That, at least, was what I thought to myself, as I sat in a sun-drenched, pristine white, spa-tastically scented midtown loft-space that was doing a turn as Canyon Ranch for the Day.

I don’t think I’m good enough for Canyon Ranch.

Why else would I  – I who agonize about my weight, and my wrinkles, and my everything else – never have treated myself to so much as a weekday overnight stay at what is arguably the premiere spa in the country?

Why else would I – I who has gone on an African Safari, a jaunt through Barcelona, a relaxing sojourn on St. John, and a nostalgic week in Paris all in the past three years — never have been willing to pay the admittedly high price of admission to a place that may have helped me in my never-ending quest to lose those last ten pounds?

It occurred to me, while, in the middle of a work day, I was in downward dog, eyeing the neatly lined up water glasses, all perfectly filled to the exact same invisible line, that I had had no problem going on all of those other trips because they were for the family.  Or they were about enrichment, broadening horizons.

They were not about taking care of me.

Now I’m not going to pretend that I’m some kind of self-depriver.  Far from it.  I pay for ridiculously over-priced spin classes; I shop at chic boutiques, I pay a not so small fortune to maintain my hair.

But a trip to Canyon Ranch?  That seems too self-indulgent.   I can say that the spin classes are local, and necessary because they are quick workout that lets me get right back to work.  I can say that I need the clothing and fancy hair cut to look my best to compete in business as a middle-aged woman in a young-person’s high-tech world.

But a trip to Canyon Ranch?  That would be just for me.

Oh, the horror.

It is, of course, partly expense.  A pair of shoes or a haircut is one thing.  A multi-thousand dollar weekend is quite another.  (And, truth be told, it is cost prohibitive)But even without the price tag – I know myself, and I know I wouldn’t do it.

The other day,  at the Canyon Ranch event, I had a mini hand treatment with the all-natural, preservative free, totally luxurious Red Flower products they feature at the Spa at Canyon Ranch.  Just those five minutes made me feel relaxed and refreshed.

I had the Canyon Ranch foot health team evaluate my stride and offer exercises to help my aching feet.

I ate a delicious sea food salad that was healthy and delicious, and not even the teeniest bit guilt inducing.  If I liked chocolate, I would have tried the healthy chocolate cake desert, too.

I even went up to the roof and made fire with two sticks and some twine-y stuff. (Well, I made smoke, a coal, and more smoke.  Evidently, where’s there’s smoke, there isn’t necessarily fire.)

Exercise, Indulgence, health, relaxation, survival skills.  Come to think of it, they’re all survival skills.

So why don’t I think I should have that?  Of course I’m not really talking about Canyon Ranch.  I’m talking about taking the time for me.  Whether that means actually making the time for Yoga, which I know makes me feel great, but for which I can never seem to spare the 90 minutes, or turning off the computer a few nights a week and knitting instead (which makes me feel skilled and creative), or forgoing an expensive hair cut or pair of shoes to spend a day or two at a fabulous spa, doing something that is – plain and simple – just for me.

Maybe it’s time  – whether we go or not – we all started taking the time for ourselves.  All of us women, worrying about work and kids, and partners, and parents, and last of all, ourselves.

Maybe it’s time we all went to that Metaphorical Canyon Ranch.  Took care of ourselves, valued ourselves, and indulged.

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