There's something wonderfully indulgent, slightly nerve-wracking and, dare I say it, rather brave about stepping away from your business and everyday life for four whole days.
Four days without the usual demands on your time. Four days without the endless to-do list. Four days where you're not responsible for making sure everyone else has what they need.
Sounds blissful, doesn't it?
Well, yes. But as I discovered, giving yourself permission to actually do it is quite another matter.
I'd been through pretty much the entire gamut of emotions before I'd even packed my bags for my October rewilding retreat in the Lake District. Excitement, anticipation, guilt, nerves and that familiar little voice wondering whether I really had time for this.
I'd been looking for a business retreat for a while. Somewhere I could spend time with like-minded people, get away from the day-to-day and give my brain some much-needed space to breathe. But rather than spend hours researching, comparing and overthinking (a particular talent of mine), I'd decided to leave it to the universe to put something in my path.
And then, one day, Claire Acker’ Rewilding Elemental Retreat popped up on my LinkedIn feed.
Yup. That's the one.
I signed up almost immediately.
What I hadn't really considered was whether I actually fancied plunging myself into freezing cold water in October or walking across 200-degree hot coals.
But hey, sometimes you've just got to trust your instincts.
And it turns out mine were absolutely spot on.
A little bit of wild
The idea behind rewilding is beautifully simple. It's about stripping away the layers of expectation, responsibility and noise that accumulate in our lives and reconnecting with the fundamentals of who we are.
What drives us? What matters to us? What do we actually need?
And perhaps most importantly, who are we when we're not busy being all the things we're supposed to be?
There's something about autumn that makes these questions feel particularly relevant. As the natural world begins to slow down and prepare for the darker half of the year, it feels like the perfect opportunity to do a little of the same.
To reflect on what's been, consider what's next and perhaps let go of a few things we're ready to leave behind.
Of course, contemplating all of this from the comfort of my own home would have been considerably less intimidating than spending four days with a group of complete strangers.
Because let's be honest, that is a bit weird.
You arrive knowing absolutely nothing about the people you're about to share a pretty intense experience with. Will you get along? Will you have anything in common? Will everyone else be considerably more enlightened than you?
But I made a conscious decision before I arrived that I was going to approach the whole experience with curiosity and openness.
To say yes. To lean in. To resist the urge to analyse everything before I'd even experienced it.
And it turns out that when you approach life like that, all kinds of magic can happen.
The magic of Wasdale
The Lake District is one of my favourite places in the world.
There's something about the light, the water and the endless shades of green that gets me every single time. It's a place that makes me feel simultaneously tiny and completely connected to something much bigger.
And Wasdale? Well, Wasdale is something else.
We were completely immersed in its beauty, surrounded by mountains, water and the kind of scenery that makes you stop mid-sentence just to take it all in.
And the weather!
I mean, we were bloody lucky.
Those perfect autumn days where the air is crisp, the light is golden and everything feels just a little bit magical. The sort of days that remind you why being outside is so good for the soul.
There was something incredibly grounding about being in that landscape. Away from screens, schedules and the constant hum of everyday life, I found myself noticing things I would normally rush straight past.
And somewhere in all that space, I started to notice something else.
I was tired.
Not just a bit sleepy or in need of an early night. Properly weary.
The kind of tiredness that creeps up on you so gradually that you don't really recognise it until you stop.
And I hadn't stopped for quite a while.
Finding the courage to let go
One of the things I loved most about the retreat was how thoughtfully the whole experience was put together.
As a facilitator myself, I know just how much energy, care and skill it takes to hold space for a group of people. To create an environment where everyone feels safe enough to be themselves, but also supported enough to stretch beyond what feels comfortable.
And Claire is an absolute expert at this.
There was a beautiful rhythm to the four days. Nothing felt rushed or forced. Each experience seemed to build on the last, gently inviting us to explore something new, challenge an assumption or discover a little more about ourselves.
We were pushed beyond our comfort zones without ever feeling shoved into our panic zones.
And that's quite an art.
Because whether you're immersing yourself in freezing cold water, contemplating a walk across scorching hot coals or simply allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of people you've only just met, there's a lot going on beneath the surface.
There are the stories you tell yourself about what you can and can't do. The instinct to protect yourself. The little voice that pipes up with all the reasons something might be a terrible idea.
And then there's the wonderful moment when you realise you're actually capable of rather more than you thought.
By the end of those four days, I think we all felt bloody invincible.
Not because we'd suddenly become fearless or transformed into entirely different people, but because we'd been reminded of something that had been there all along.
Our own strength.
What happens when you finally stop?
I think one of my biggest surprises was realising just how much I'd been carrying.
Like so many people, my life is full. I have a business I love, a family I adore, wonderful people to work with and plenty of exciting things happening.
But fullness can so easily become relentlessness.
There's always something that needs doing, someone who needs something or another idea demanding attention. And somewhere along the way, the words should and could can become the soundtrack to your life.
I should be doing more of this.
I could be further along with that.
I should really have sorted that by now.
And when you're constantly moving, it's very easy to mistake all that noise for something important.
Stepping away reminded me that our actual needs are often remarkably simple. Connection. Rest. Movement. Fresh air. Good food. Laughter. Space to think and feel.
We have an extraordinary ability to make life more complicated than it needs to be.
And sometimes it takes removing yourself from the familiar to remember that.
The retreat gave me the space to shift some things, work through some things and, perhaps most importantly, allow myself to move through things I'd been carrying for a while.
Not everything needs an immediate answer or a carefully constructed action plan. Sometimes we need to give ourselves enough space for things to settle, for thoughts to develop and for feelings to find their way through.
That's not always easy when you're someone who likes to get things done.
But goodness, it's valuable.
Coming home a little more me
I didn't go to Wasdale looking for some enormous life-changing revelation.
I wanted space. I wanted connection. I wanted to challenge myself and perhaps get a little clearer on what I needed as I headed into the final months of the year.
What I came home with was something much more valuable than another list of goals or a beautifully colour-coded plan.
I came home feeling more connected to myself.
A little lighter. A little stronger. And rather excited about what might come next.
I'm incredibly grateful to Claire for creating such a thoughtful, beautifully held experience, and to the wonderful people who made those four days so special.
It takes something quite extraordinary to bring a group of strangers together and create an environment where people feel able to be curious, courageous, vulnerable and completely themselves.
But that's exactly what happened.
And if there's one thing I'll be taking away from those four days, it's this: sometimes the bravest thing we can do is give ourselves permission to step away from everything we're busy building and remember the person doing the building.
Because there's rather a lot of magic waiting for us when we do.
And yes, that includes freezing cold water in October.
Who knew?
