People go on wellness retreats for all kinds of different reasons, to detox, relax, lose weight, deepen their yoga practice… but to heal trauma? That kind of shift isn’t what most reasonable people would expect from a couple of days away from it all. However, that’s exactly what happened to me. I kid you not.
I’ll be completely honest, as much as I love wellness, I’m a sceptic and when I initially booked into the Detox and Revive Retreat in Jervis Bay, I was mostly excited about two uninterrupted nights’ sleep. The setting was beautiful, the activities sounded great and the ethos of “detox and revive your body post-silly season” was right on the money after my rosé-filled Christmas holiday. But as a new mum to an eight-month-old baby, it was the sleep I was sold on.
Nine Perfect Strangers Without The Microdosing
Nestled within 27 acres of bushland and just a few minutes’ drive from Shoalhaven’s white sand beaches, Bay and Bush was the perfect place to unwind for two nights and three days. It’s all greenery and well-appointed, neutral interiors with a kind of pace only matched by island life.
Hilariously, there were nine of us on the retreat, just like in the Liane Moriarty penned book/Nicole Kidman led drama Nine Perfect Strangers. But there was no microdosing here, instead we had yoga, sound healing, breathwork, Pilates, clay and essential oils workshops, sea kayaking, stargazing and spa treatments.
Meeting in an Insta-worthy tipi over an afternoon tea of juices, bliss balls and other healthy treats, made fresh by an on-site chef, we all politely introduced ourselves as the retreat kicked off on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Everyone seemed nice and I’ll wager that at that point none of us had any idea we’d experience big mindset shifts over the next 72 hours. Especially with no psychedelics involved.
Nourishing Mind, Body and Soul
The first activity was a yoga flow and meditation session, which started with us all writing down a wellness goal we wanted to achieve over the coming months.
The yoga was blissful, with the sound of surrounding gumtrees swaying in the breeze and the sight of a family of curious kangaroos spying on us adding to the magic.
It was idyllic and the bar was set high. For example, the ‘stargazing and storytelling’, which I assumed would involve someone with a cursory knowledge of Orion’s Belt and the Southern Cross pointing a flashlight in the sky, was actually hosted by an astrophysicist. A PhD-qualified astrophysicist who specialises in cultural astronomy as an adjunct fellow at Western Sydney University and has worked with and gained permission from local Aboriginal elders to tell the story of the night sky. Impressive.
An Unexpected Outcome
My Insta stories were filled with every glorious detail. From a smug post about ‘Monday traffic’ being two seagulls on the famous Hyams Beach, to the delicious food, to the legit best facial of my life, to the luxurious yoga mats and matching accessories, the attention to detail, level of comfort and content opportunities were all incredible. But that’s not what changed my life. It was the breathwork session that did that.
In June 2021 I gave birth to my son early, too early for him to survive or to be resuscitated. He was born alive and lived for around 15 minutes, although he never opened his eyes, he just breathed quietly and slowly, until he didn’t anymore. We’d gone to emergency that morning because I had some red spotting and things felt off, but we had no idea what was to unfold. It’s an experience that’s left me with a broken heart, PTSD and acute anxiety. The latter two were exasperated by my next pregnancy, which gave us our beautiful rainbow daughter but was nerve racking to say the least.
I’ve tried a lot of things to quell my PTSD and anxiety symptoms. Talk therapy, Reiki, workshops to repair my vagus nerve, meditation, hypnosis to heal my inner child and various forms of breathwork that involved farting around with my nostrils and the like. They were relaxing and probably beneficial to some degree, but did little to stop me waking in the night screaming, for example.
I’ll be real with you. I hated the breathwork session at first. We had to dance. Intuitively. In front of each other. I hated it so much that I actually left the room after the first, let’s be generous and say 10 seconds (it was more like five), because I could not handle the vulnerability or the cringe. Thankfully, I got over myself and went back in.
The Power Of The Breath
The idea behind the dancing is that it releases pent up stress from the body. It’s then followed by breathing – big breaths in, bigger breaths out – before you lie down and get into it.
Following the SOMA Breath technique, which has foundations in the yogic practice of pranayama, the session used breath retention, specifically Intermittent Hypoxia Training (IHT) to build up CO2, which is said to help your body adapt to lower levels of oxygen, and prevent oxidative stress. You basically take a large breath in, then breathe it out and hold for as long as you possibly can. The process is accompanied by music and spoken guidance.
But how did breathing out and holding it change my life, you ask? Well, all that oxygen deprivation also provides a clear path to your subconscious, which is where I found the big block that was keeping me scared and stuck. I was holding onto the shock and sadness of losing my little boy as a way of punishing myself for his death and as penance for every moment of joy I’ve felt since my daughter was born. And when I breathed in again, I let out a mighty sob and I let that block go.
I haven’t had one panic attack or nightmare since that day.
Of course, it might not have been just the breathwork that did that. It probably worked so effectively as a sum of the parts of the retreat. The afternoon prior I’d felt a new sense of calm as the sound healing reverberated in my chest (or ‘heart space’ if you must). And just that morning, as I’d been kayaking on the crystal blue waters of Jervis Bay, I’d contemplated how lucky I was and how it might be time to be OK.
But the breathwork was the tipping point.
Nine Perfect Epiphanies
Everyone on that retreat had a moment like mine too. One person realised they were actually happy and fulfilled with their life just the way it is during clay. Another declared they were proud to finally be doing things just for them during kayaking, while another vowed they’d only ever accept the best for themselves from now on during our last afternoon tea. It’s a remarkable outcome for three days away from normal life, don’t you think?
Everything is different for me now. Without the panic there’s space for life again. For fun, for laughter and for excitement without guilt. I still think of my son every day, but now I live around the grief rather than it fencing me in and keeping me small and scared. And, despite the fact I remain a sceptic, I now believe in retreats as powerful catalysts for healing. However, even with that said, I guarantee you will never, ever catch me intuitive dancing, and that’s a promise.
Kara attended this retreat as a guest of Bay and Bush Jervis Bay Lifestyle Retreats and Visit Shoalhaven.
