There are a couple reasons that most people don’t meditate: 1) It’s hard to do. 2) Most instructors stink. Whether you’ve been at the foot of a swami who chants in some gibberish that doesn’t mean squat, or in a dank community center where a reinvented midlifer expects you to center on your third chakra, you end up needing a stiff drink because you were an utter failure. Rather than blame yourself, take a mental break with Johny Santorre at Urban Bodies, who nixes all the B.S. and guides you on a mental journey to a private beach, where you meet your issues and deal with them from there. Laughing is not verboten. Neither is crying. If you’re clueless, you can tell him so without fear that you’ll look like a loser. Afterward, you can even ask questions. And he’ll answer. It’s better than pretending you’re in some purple haze — when all you really want is your money back. Here, it’s well-spent. 7100 Owensmouth Ave., Canoga Park. (818) 804-8447, —Heidi Dvorak

LA Weekly