Tai chi in the Desert

I recently returned from a week in the desert. But not just any old desert, oh no…I was in the desert - Palm Springs. I had a modern home to myself, complete with mountain views, a lap pool, and floor-to-ceiling glass walls that seamlessly disappeared, inviting the arid weather inside.

Since I was on east coast time, I’d wake up at 4:30 to see the neighbor’s palm trees illuminated in the pitch-black of a desert night. Eventually, the sun would rise, casting a caramel-orange glow over the khaki-colored mountains. I’d lay in bed mesmerized, enjoying one of those “Am I really here?” moments.

After I’d begrudgingly rolled out of bed, I’d put on cashmere socks and pour myself a coffee with the New York Times. I wasn’t in a rush. Rarely did I know what time it was. In fact, with the exception of guessing the time when the sun started to set, I felt completely disconnected.

After a second cup of coffee and a few donuts, I’d open the wall and slide back into bed, letting the cool desert air envelop me.

At some point, I’d open up a book and read until the sun started setting, with a nap here and there. Around five o’clock, the mountain skies turned into a panoramic canvas of violet, peach tones, and swathes of butterscotch.

After the sun set, when the air got cold, I’d close the wall of windows and put a movie on. Again, being on east coast time meant I was asleep by nine o’clock at the latest. I can’t recall the last time I was so rested.

One morning, I went to Sunnylands in Rancho Mirage to try Tai chi. But before we get to that, I have to sing the praises of this historic oasis in the desert.

It’s important to put the size of this estate in perspective. Let’s take Sinatra’s Palm Springs compound, for example. Ol’ Blue Eyes had several homes, a helicopter landing pad, a tennis court, a pool, a train caboose with a sauna and barber shop inside, and a separate home for his model train collection. Altogether, his piece of the desert measured in at 2.5 acres.

Sunnylands, the former estate of businessman and Ambassador Walter Annenberg, is two hundred acres. Two – Zero – Zero. Eighty times bigger than Sinatra’s compound. EIGHTY! Ironically, it’s located on the corner of Frank Sinatra Drive.

In addition to a private golf course that may be the most exclusive and least used in the country, the estate, informally known as “Camp David of the West,” has hosted Presidents Eisenhower, Nixon, Ford, Reagan, Bush, and Obama.

I arrived at a contemporary building behind an almost empty parking lot. Mind you, I had no idea what to expect. Upon entering, I was greeted by a gentleman who could only be described as VERY Californian: laid back, with blond locks, and a calming demeanor. I instantly liked him. When I asked where Tai Chi was being held (I was 45 minutes early), he pointed outside and suggested I take a self-guided tour of the grounds.

I walked out the back door and immediately felt a sense of tranquility. A crisp breeze embraced me as I stood in awe of the San Jacinto Mountains. To my right and left were symmetrical cacti gardens, the likes of which I had never seen. Everything was immaculate and exploding with color. I’ll say it again, there’s a reason people voluntarily pay those exorbitant taxes.

Locals started arriving as we took our places on the lawn. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Nancy Meyers was filming a scene for an upcoming movie. The lead, of course, is a woman who kind of knows she has it all, but not really. In this scene, she’s taking her weekly Tai chi class with her wealthy friends, whose husbands, in addition to perfecting the art of wearing a sweater over their shoulders, are so eloquent when they speak, especially when it comes to Côtes du Rhône wines in the south of France, or how Conner received his acceptance letter from Princeton. All the while, the audience is trying to figure out how a former homemaker in her third marriage has a second home in Santa Barbara, but why ruin a perfectly good time? Besides, not all of her children look like they jumped off the page of a Ralph Lauren ad. Her life can’t be that perfect, can it?

The temperature was 55 degrees, skies were blue, and clean air was streaming through the Coachella Valley. And the grass…that was flawless too – a deep seaweed green, perfectly manicured, with a bounce to it that practically begged you to take your shoes off.

I took my spot and decided I would let myself be free to look like an idiot. Luckily, everyone else made the same pact with themselves.

Tai chi is extremely complex. I cannot emphasize that enough. It’s also physically demanding and humbling. But it’s a hell of a lot of fun…especially in the company of beginners and under the guidance of a humorous 老师 - that’s Chinese for lao'shī, or instructor. Our lao'shī didn’t take himself too seriously, which made for an enjoyable time.

I struggled with everything – literally every single thing, but so did everyone else. Later, I was told that it takes three years to master the basic forms. True mastery takes much longer than that.

By the end of the sixty-minute session, my thighs were almost shaking. I was embarrassed to admit it because I was one of the youngest people there, but as I started talking with locals, it was universally aged upon: Tai chi is no joke. Next time I’m at Sunnylands, it’ll be on the golf course.

Bonham in 150 Words

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