1. NOW
ZEN
&
W
ould you swap
chocolate and wine
for tofu and yoga? Our chief
sub-editor did when she
went – not without some misgivings
– on a wellbeing retreat...
BY MARIA HOYLE
I am sitting at a large pine
table, in front of me a dish
of tofu-filled sushi and a
brightly coloured bean salad.
Darkness has fallen; the
ranchslider panels reveal only blackness
and nothing of the lush greenery outside.
Apart from the occasional skirmish between
knife and plate, it is quiet… so quiet I can
hear my own munching like the crunch of
boots on fresh snow. Odd, given that there
are nine other women eating with me.
It is a highly bizarre experience. Little do I
know that, within the hour, there will be an
even stranger one. Previously, the only times
I’ve ever dined in silence, in company, have
been when an argument has taken place.
Tonight there is no theatrical sighing or
sulky side-glances. Only peace.
This is the third and last evening of a
‘women’s wellbeing weekend’ in beautiful
Otaki, an hour’s drive north of Wellington
and run by Red Retreats. As a busy working
mum-of-two, the idea of a tranquil weekend
enveloped by nature and nurturing mind,
body and soul had appealed. I’d come for
some well-earned peace, a long overdue
detox, and a chance to clear my hyperactive
mind. The cynic inside me, however,
expected I’d have to stomach a fair bit of
new age nonsense over the three days, a
fear that wasn’t allayed by item five on the
what-to-bring list: Something you feel
beautiful in, for dancing. Oh lord.
CLEAN LIVING
It’s three days earlier and we start arriving at
our retreat house, a picturesque lodge in the
Otaki River Gorge. There are 10 retreaters,
our yoga teacher, Kerryn Easterbrook, and
the retreat’s three Kiwi founders and facilitators: public speaking trainer, life coach and
mum-of-six Lee Ball; counsellor, life coach,
artist and mum-of-one Tanette Hickey; and
Felicity Yellin, a youth counsellor with a
particular zeal for permaculture and organic
cooking. The three friends joined forces to
offer this retreat to help women like me

2. travel
In the room that is to be our main meeting
area – a large, wood-panelled space with
several pre-loved sofas and a crackling log
fire – we sit and share our reasons for being
here. This weekend promises us all rest and
relaxation, but the very word ‘retreat’ is also
loaded with connotations – not all of them
positive. However, any notions we have of
airy-fairyness are soon dispelled. Over the
next three days – through a series of discussions, meditations, yoga, healthy eating and
some extremely challenging personal work –
we are to be coaxed and guided into the
process of re-shaping our lives. The language
is often spiritual, but the advice grounded.
Among us on this first evening are a doctor,
a marketing exec, an artist, a piano teacher, a
student, and several full-time mums. We have
come for a variety of reasons: to heal old hurts,
to move forward, or simply to stop the endless
chatter in our heads, that tumble dryer of
thoughts that is the familiar malaise of the
modern mum. When it comes to stuff I want
to fix, well… I’m spoiled for choice. As a piece
of emotional real estate, I’m definitely in the
‘do-up’ category. I settle on a long-unresolved
The retreat offers a chance
to relax, reflect and enjoy
the natural beauty of the
Kapiti Coast.
refuel, take stock, and gain some clarity.
After being shown to our simple, but clean
and comfortable, rooms we sit around a table
and make our informal introductions. We are
subtly sizing each other up, trying to work
out what sort of nut-job attends a no-alcohol,
no-dairy, no-sugar, vegetarian retreat on her
precious days off. The others seem normal
enough, though, and I’m reassured by a late
arrival who chirpily informs me that, in
anticipation of a healthy regimen, she ate
two curries last night, and stopped off in
Otaki for a gin and a pie on the way here.
After a meal of zucchini fettuccine, vege
moussaka and a delicious gluten-free pear
tart, the gong announces the first session.
issue: wishing to
be more secure,
financially and in
other ways.
We drift off to
bed in silence…
and are asked not
to speak to one
another until after yoga, 6.30-8am, tomorrow
morning. Yoga is optional so I’m surprised to
see everyone turn up yawning the next day.
Despite a nutritious and filling meal, I’ve
slept badly; deprived of my usual evening
comforts – wine, biscuits, a hot chocolate – I
tossed and turned. And I struggle a little with
not having my wake-up coffee. However,
I grab a licorice tea, and its delicious kick is
a surprisingly effective consolation prize.
Not only that, I find the yoga both calming
and energising.
After a breakfast of green juice – a blend of
spinach, cucumber, lemon, apple and ginger
– cereal, fruit and toast, we have the first
session of the day: Mindfulness, the concept
of noting your thoughts, accepting them, but
not acting on them. After a group discussion
we’re set a personal project for the afternoon:
to pinpoint an area of our lives where we want
to move from our ‘shadow’ aspect to a ‘light’
aspect. I have to map out how to get from my
place of fearfulness to feeling more secure.
And abstract waffle won’t cut it; we have to
concretely outline the steps we will take to get
there. This, and all the exercises over the
weekend, make us pause and take stock of our
lives. But something else is happening –
something the sceptic in me has not bargained for. Among us is growing an intense
closeness, and a strong sense of support.
As I sit in the garden with my diagrams and
scribblings, watching ivory-winged moths
darting in and out of the rows of spinach and
We’ve come for a
variety of reasons: to heal
old hurts, to move forward,
or to stop the endless
chatter in our heads
pumpkins, I look at the
women dotted around, one
sitting on a bench chewing
her pencil, another lying
on a blanket with her face
raised to the sun. Each of
us, in our own way, is trying
to dig deep and find some
truth that has become
buried in piles of washing
and shopping lists, bank statements and bills.
There is a sense of shared purpose and yet
complete peaceful solitude. And all the while
our three retreat hosts are on hand to guide,
support and offer advice.
Other sessions over the weekend include
journaling, in which Ball explains the benefits
of keeping a log of inspirational thoughts,
AUGUST 2013 | NEXT
191

3. travel
and of ‘manifesting’ our goals and dreams.
Several years back she wrote down ‘retreat’
in her dream journal, not knowing what it
might mean, and soon after she was reacquainted with her old friend Hickey, whose
thoughts had been on creating a retreat-type
experience. Hickey holds a session on ‘green
juicing’, a wonderful de-toxing practice with a
plethora of health benefits. Before the retreat I
doubted I’d ever be the sort of woman who
would spend her days peeling and pulverising veg to produce what, quite honestly, looks
like fish tank gunk. But our green breakfast
juice is delicious, and besides, you take one
look at Hickey, with her glowing complexion,
and it’s ‘I’ll have what she’s having’.
Between sessions there’s time to walk, read,
or just sit and think. But we’re real women,
after all, and the need to
talk is pressing. On one
of our ‘silent’ mornings,
I bump into a fellow
retreater. We have both
mistakenly got up early,
so we set off on a walk
in the stunning countryside. We chatter and
laugh and the words
tumble out of us. Then we spy Ball on a
brisk morning walk, and turn into guilty
schoolgirls. She sees our sheepish faces and
laughs, “Oh go ahead and talk, it’s fine!”
DINNER AND DANCING
And so here we are on our last evening. The
gong sounds and we assemble. Most of us
have gone to change into a dress; I say ‘us’ but
I’ve staunchly remained in my jeans. I catch a
fellow retreater’s eye, grin and point down at
my pants. She misreads it for “I have nothing
else to wear”, rushes over to the sofa, takes
from it a light throw and wraps it around me,
like a sarong. The lights are switched off –
mercifully – and we’re urged to express ourselves, to dance or move, to the ‘five tribal
rhythms’ that musically draw a journey. I feel
Some of the retreat weekends
offer a high ropes course.
Left: Delicious organic food
nourishes mind, body and soul.
profoundly unsettled, but not joining in would
have been far worse – like remaining clothed
on a nudist beach. This is, without doubt, the
most awkward, most confronting – and
possibly most freeing – experience of my life.
REFLECTION TIME
I return to Auckland feeling rested, tranquil
and well nourished. But how long will the
benefits last? After all, we’ve just spent three
days being catered to, emotionally supported
and cocooned by nature. Then again we had
made a choice, by being there, to put ourselves first. And perhaps that is half the battle.
Would I recommend the retreat to others?
Absolutely. I would even suggest attending a
weekend like this on a regular ‘maintenance’
basis, because life has a way of wiping its
muddy feet on your dreams.
As I write this I have a glass of merlot by
the laptop, and some dark chocolate; so no
change there. I have, however, made small
but significant tweaks to my life (see box). I
breathe and sleep better. I can recognise negative thoughts for what they are and know the
difference between what I’m truly capable of,
and the small snide voice that tries to shoot it
down. I feel calmer and more centred, and
have learned tools to cope when I am neither
of those things. And besides, if you can dance
like no one is watching, in a room full of
people and with a piece of soft furnishing for
a skirt, I reckon you can tackle anything.
This is, without
doubt, the most awkward,
most confronting – and
possibly most freeing –
experience of my life
192 NEXT
| AUGUST 2013
If you’re put off by yoga because you don’t
have time, don’t be. “My own yoga teacher
says even just lying on a mat with your eyes
closed for a few minutes has benefits,” yoga
instructor Easterbrook says. Try the simple
morning workout I’ve adopted: five sun salutes,
followed by a 10-15 minute routine (for
guideance, check out yoga classes on
YouTube; the Living Channel, or on DVD). You’ll
be amazed how much better you’ll cope with
that morning traffic chaos.
Green juicing is the healthiest juicing option;
the greener – the better. However, good juicers
don’t come cheap so if you’re saving for one, in
the meantime just use your regular blender to
‘greenify’ your smoothie. Hickey’s basic green
smoothie recipe is 1 banana, 1 to 1½ apples,
a large handful of fresh spinach, freshly
squeezed orange juice and a splash of water.
Mindfulness. Try closing your eyes and
Rather than berating yourself for enjoying a
glass of wine at night, aim for three or four
alcohol-free evenings a week. Think of it as
‘choosing health’ rather than ‘going without’. It
focusing on your food – its taste and texture.
And give meditation a go; it isn’t as scary as it
sounds. For guided practices there’s a great
meditation app; go to www.omvana.com.
gives your liver a break, saves money, and boy
does that wine taste good when you do indulge.
For Red Retreats prices and bookings,
go to www.redretreats.com.
PHOTOGRAPHS RACHAEL RUSSELL, LISA PERIGO AND TANETTE HICKEY
RETREAT ROUTINE FOR
THE BUSY WOMAN