It’s my first Qi Gong class, and my first time trying to impersonate a deer. The exercise is a set of deliberate movements designed to promote vitality and circulation. With my feet shoulder-width apart and my knees slightly bent, I breathe deeply and slowly raise my upturned fists until they are at the side of my head. I linger there, waiting until the instructor Rachel says, “Antlers!” My fingers then splay outwards in their best impression of a buck, and I start all over again. Welcome to California.
My wife, Laura; and I are at Yoga Soup, a popular studio in Santa Barbara. There’s clearly a strong community connection here, but us newbies are immediately welcomed like old friends, which feels a little overwhelming. “Can I hug you? You look like you really need a hug.”
Laura feels right at home, but I’m out of my comfort zone. Still, the reason we’re in town is to uncover some of Santa Barbara’s wellness practices, which I would usually dismiss as nonsense but am trying to be open to. The notion that serenity and contentment are readily attainable rather than aspirational is a big deal here, where wellness thinking has been crystallised through a holistic approach that blends natural beauty with a focus on mental and physical wellbeing.
The noticeboard’s events, like an upcoming community song circle and a class on retuning your fascial pathways, don’t help. Meanwhile, a topless guy with a long beard and perfectly toned abs is casually strumming a guitar.
My friend and local resident Karna signed us up for aural acupuncture and Qi Gong, which Rachel has been practising for decades – the healthy response to a younger life of clubbing and overindulgence. It involves 40 minutes of flowing movements and controlled breathing, followed by 20 minutes of acupuncture targeting specific mental health issues. For me, it’s general anxiety and occasional insomnia, which I’ve normalised as part of the human condition but Rachel insists have no place in a healthy body and mind.
Santa Barbara sits on a narrow shelf between the ocean and the Santa Ynez mountains, in what is known as the “American Riviera”. For more than a century it has welcomed wealthy refugees from urban America with an inviting mix of luxury and laid-back vibes. Almost everyone in town has perfect teeth and a healthy glow, the benefits of a community culture that embraces outdoor activities, sustainable living and mindfulness practices, all set against the backdrop of some of the most beautiful coastline in the world. In Santa Barbara, inner peace is just as important as killer abs and a decent half-marathon time.
One place that looks to answer that perennial conundrum of our existence is The Sacred Space in Summerland, a sage-scented alternative healing emporium about 10km east of downtown.
Inside are smiling Buddhas, Hindu art, pyramid candles and incense. You can buy butterfly wings (ethically sourced, of course) and Native American dream catchers, crucifixes and rosaries, and ritual items stored in an antique Burmese treasure box. Whatever belief system you embrace, there is something here for you.
While Laura pores over some of the prettier items, I wander aimlessly, wondering if “disinterested cynic” constitutes a spiritual journey. “It’s not about religion, Buddha or crystals,” says owner Amy Cooper. “It’s about a place to feel safe where you can feel connected to your community.”
It’s also about the garden. White stone paths wind through a tropical bamboo garden filled with antique architectural stones, lanterns, rustic Buddha statues and koi-filled lily ponds.
Bali-built hardwood pavilions shelter divans where you can rest and drink complimentary tea. We sit in smiling silence, and after a few minutes I can feel a sense of calm wash over me. A bit of quiet time in beautiful surroundings does wonders for the soul.
This is California, though, where owning pretty things generally trumps feeling good about owning them. A few doors down is Fort & Field, which promotes its beautiful and expensive homewares as “essentials for elevated living”. Summerland’s high-end hippies love it; local Gwyneth Paltrow is a big fan.
This stretch of California coast is one of the United States’ most desirable addresses, home to an impressive cohort of celebrities. Paltrow shares a postcode with Oprah, Ariana Grande, Pink and, of course, Harry and Meghan, whose nine-bedroom, 16-bathroom pied-à-terre sits in a private estate in Montecito, in the hills overlooking Santa Barbara.
You can’t visit, but you can see it all from above with Sky High Helicopters, which offers a bird’s-eye view of the city, the coastline and some of the fanciest addresses in the world. From the air, we point out all of the houses we would buy if we were rich and living entirely different lives.
Instead, our home for the few days is the historic Santa Barbara Inn, a Spanish Colonial-style building with white stucco walls and a red terracotta roof ideally positioned on the beach and an easy stroll from downtown. The rooms are spacious and well-appointed and there’s even a small pool if you don’t fancy crossing the street to jump into the ocean.
Santa Barbara’s main drag is State Street, a big chunk of which has been pedestrianised since Covid. On Wednesday evenings there’s organised dancing in the middle of the street; we stand to one side and watch locals engage in some pretty saucy salsa, but are far too shy to join in.
Just off State Street is Cat Therapy, where kittens roam around while we sit on cushions waiting for them to pay attention to us. Apparently the mere act of petting a cat releases oxytocin, the hormone associated with bonding and stress reduction. I’m generally indifferent to cats, but there is something soothing about having a kitten curl up in my lap and purr herself to sleep.
But wellness activities in Santa Barbara aren’t limited to cats and crystals. The city long ago embraced the Locavore movement, and virtually everything you eat comes from a small-scale organic farm with an inspiring backstory and a solid business plan. Even the celebs get involved: besides being a global pop star, Pink produces her own highly rated organic wine in the Santa Ynez Valley, under the label Two Wolves.
At the San Ysidro Ranch, all the herbs, veg and fruit come from their on-site garden, but their eco-credentials come garnished with a hefty sprinkling of historical star power. This gorgeous 38-bungalow retreat spread across 550 lush acres was once a favourite of Winston Churchill. Laurence Olivier married Vivien Leigh here. It’s where JFK and Jackie O honeymooned.
We are here just for dinner, sitting on a bougainvillea-covered terrace infused with the scent of blooming jasmine and lavender. Laura goes for the steak Diane (flambéed tableside) while I tuck into a miso-glazed black cod. The only non-local thing we have is a bottle of fancy Hallstein from Austria, which the waiter assures us is the world’s best artisanal spring water and full of healthy minerals. It is cold. It is nice. It is water.
Whatever the health benefits from drinking expensive bottled water, we more than undo it over afternoon tea at the Belmond El Encanto, another gorgeous resort with Old Hollywood bona fides. Carole Lombard, Clarke Gable and other stars of the Golden Age were regulars at this seven-acre dreamland of California Craftsman-style bungalows, eucalyptus trees and sweeping views of the coast, which in recent years has been restored to its pristine best.
It’s easy to dismiss so much of affluent California’s obsession with wellness as a form of narcissism
Afternoon tea is a luxurious affair, with decadent savoury treats such as New England lobster along with beautifully made pastries including a sublime lavender lemon pavlova. All washed down with Santa Barbara’s latest obsession, tea.
But not just any old tea. No, here the speciality is astrological infusions, a choice of blended teas based on star signs. I’m an Aries, so I have black tea with notes of “fresh blackberry, sublime citrus and sweet floral rose”, while Laura, a Capricorn, opts for oolong tea “with notes of sweet maple and uplifting citrus”. I can’t bring myself to buy into the “science” of it, but it was lovely tea in an even lovelier setting.
There’s no doubt that the glorious weather and the wonderful setting are factors, but after a few days I find my resistance to wellness therapies softened considerably. It’s tough to resist Santa Barbara’s sunny optimism, and after a while it just feels churlish to even try.
It’s easy to dismiss so much of affluent California’s obsession with wellness as a form of narcissism, or the idea that we are in a perpetual state of “healing” as a solipsistic time suck, but equally why should stress, insomnia or general anxiety be normalised to the extent that I treat them as simply the cost of being alive? When we leave The Sacred Space, Amy encourages us to take a “thought for the day” from a jar on the counter. Mine reads: “The difference between misery and happiness depends on what we do with our attention.”
These thoughts floated through my mind during my Qi Gong and acupuncture class. As I lie there with needles in my ears, I have the distinct sensation that I am melting into myself, and I can feel my lower lip slide off my teeth as I get as close to a state of blissed-out relaxation as I’ve been in for many years.
Before we leave Santa Barbara to head back to Los Angeles and home, my friend Karna leaves a little gift for me in the hotel lobby. It is a T-shirt, which bears what are said to be Michelangelo’s last words before he died, aged 87: “Ancora Imparo” – I am still learning.
Stops along the way
- Yoga Soup (28 Parker Way; yogasoup.com) drop-in classes, $25 each
- The Sacred Space (2594 Lillie Ave, Summerland; thesacredspace.com)
- Sky High Helicopters (skyhighhelicopters.com) from $119 per person
- Santa Barbara Inn (901 E Cabrillo Blvd; santabarbarainn.com) rooms from $375, no resort fee charged
- Cat Therapy (1213 State St, Suite I; cattherapysb.com)
- San Ysidro Ranch (900 San Ysidro Ln, Montecito; sanysidroranch.com) dinner mains at Stonehouse Restaurant, $26-$36
- Belmond En Encanto (800 Alvarado Pl; belmond.com) afternoon tea, $95 per person