Lessons from Mallorca: Where Magic Happens
As some of you know, I just led my first European Wellness & Adventure retreat. It was soul-filling. The people, the places, the moments—they're all woven into what I'm sharing below.
If you'd asked me before Mallorca what makes a retreat magical, I would've told you about the yoga, the mindfulness practices, the carefully curated sessions. And sure, those matter. But here's what I didn't expect: the real magic lives in the meals together. In the conversations that stretch long after the sun sets. In watching brand new friends become old friends in a matter of days.
A new friend on Instagram reached out with a message that caused me to pause: "We need community like oxygen in these fragmented times." He'd seen a picture of me with a few of the really great souls who joined the retreat—somewhat candid and unguarded—and there was such lightness expressed from us all. This is what community can do.
What struck me most was the gentleness with which he offered it. Because yes, two things can be true at once: we can hold the heavy and we can hold the light, and everything that lives in between.
Over dinner in Mallorca, a new acquaintance who grew up in Spain and I found ourselves in conversation about the United States, about other countries, about the world we're all navigating together. What became clear is that while we might be louder right now in the States, every country carries its own struggles. Everyone holds heartache and grief. We talked about immigration, about economics, about hope and fear. Nothing was off the table, and once again I was reminded that we humans are far more alike underneath than we are different.
I've been calling these gatherings "yoga retreats" for years, but I'm realizing they're evolving into something much more expansive. Yes, there's yoga and movement—that can always be there. But really, these retreats are about self-care and connection. Two things I can hide from even while facilitating them.
Something I've learned: connecting others has become a superpower of mine, but I've also needed to learn how to connect in person myself. As someone who leans introverted, my old pattern was to lead the group activities and then disappear to recharge alone. I've slowly stopped doing this as often. I still honor my need for rest, but I've also learned that some of the most profound moments happen in the unscheduled spaces—the conversations over coffee, the quiet walks, the impromptu sharing circles.
What I keep discovering is this: with the right people, everything changes. The questions get deeper. The listening gets softer. The sharing gets braver. The laughter comes easier. And somehow, we all feel a little less alone in our beautiful, messy humanness.
Oh, and for the most part, I think most humans are the right people for this work. Even a slightly moody only child with her nose in a book or writing.
A question for you: What would change if you observed your thoughts this week without immediately reacting to them?
