Getting soulful and spiritual with The Owl and The Apothecary in England
Anna Chapman reviews The Wilding Escape, an empowering nature retreat in Cornwall with The Owl and The Apothecary, and discovers the power of Mother Nature, some sassy soul sisters and a special kind of ‘magick’
When I discovered The Wilding Retreat, I was on the verge of burnout. Arriving at Okehampton station on a Friday afternoon, I felt emotionally drained and exhausted. My sense of self had become lost in relentless work-life stress. I was also slightly sceptical. I’d never been on a retreat like this before.
Fortunately, things were about to change, starting with my lift from two delightful co-retreaters who over the next four days would quickly become my soul sisters. Together we headed through the Cornish mist to a remote converted barn near the rugged north coast for our mutual transformation, leaving our children to some daddy time.
“Following a clifftop walk – cows on one side, turquoise sea on the other – we clambered down to the beach at Bossiney Haven where I joyously shed my winter clothes and ran into the freezing sea (and straight out again!) Afterwards I joined the group in a womb-like cave, we joined hands and raced across the soft sand, hooting with pleasure”
Katy, our earth motherly conduit, was on the doorstep and embraced me heartily. It felt like I was being welcomed home – if only I could live in such a place. Delicious scents wafted through the open-plan building, calm lamp light and candles softened the atmosphere and the velvety furnishings provided me with a gentle landing. I sighed with pleasure, my shoulders dropped from my ears as I received Katy’s generous gifts: rose quartz and healing labradorite bracelets and a box full of natural treasures.
A week before I’d boarded the train from Paddington, I’d had a Zoom chemistry call with Katy – understanding the energy of her guests is a vital ingredient in her meticulous planning process. She believes the right women gather at the right time and sees us as co-creators who shape the experience. I enjoyed the consensual decision-making around some of our activities.
On arrival, I was relieved to see she’d built a schedule with plenty of downtime in it. I thought I’d be able to make some headway with the novel I’m writing, but it turned out that I’d need this space to process and reflect on the deep feelings that were taking place inside me. And when I wasn’t journaling, I bathed in salts ‘for old bones’ or lounged on my super king-size bed, back against the gorgeous Sanderson padded headboard, admiring the view of lambs cavorting on the Cornish hills.
The first night I sat with my five newfound sisters in a circle, a safe space to which I would return twice a day for ‘movement medicine’ classes and magick workshops (think earth-based spirituality, not Paul Daniels). Here I pulled oracle cards, worked with herbs and fire, cried and belly-laughed as intimate and uncomfortable feelings rose to the surface. Flopping on the enormous L-shaped sofa after dinner, I felt like a teenager on a giggly sleepover, nurtured by Katy’s playful and grounding vibe. The dark and irreverent humour of our mostly over 40 group kept a check on anything getting too worthy or woo woo and by the end of the first evening I was hugging everyone goodnight as if I’d known them for a lifetime.
But the next day, things took a more serious turn when Chantal guided us on a powerful shamanic journey where I reached a whole new plane of consciousness. By channelling my inner shakti (feminine) energy, I experienced a profound sense of connection, and then was flooded by tangible grief for my own beautiful mum. Lying on a pelt on the floor has never felt quite so moving.
Afterwards, I was grateful to have a massage from Holly and her bottle of helichrysum oil. While she shifted some of the load I’d be carting around, she told me that my tense shoulders were the sign of an over-giver who was carrying built-up resentment. I had a lot to journal about that day.
I took great pleasure in the constant stream of delicious meals. As a mother-of-two, I don’t often escape the planning, the shopping, and the prep. But here we had chief nourishment officer Gilly living on-site so she could magick up a storm of fresh vegan fare. Magick - the ritualisation of our spiritual intentions - was interwoven throughout the entire retreat, even in Jilly’s menus. I loved the marinated and crisp, fried tofu and I always found room for her legendary afternoon treats, as well as dessert. Who could resist velvety saffron and cardamom poached pears or rich and moussey cacao and tahini globes? Definitely not me.
Now I had established an inner connection with my body, it was time to get outside and bond with nature. Living in the city, I was looking forward to breathing zingy sea air, walking on flinty pathways and admiring the mossy banks strewn with verdant bunches of primroses. But on an overcast March day, I was fairly hesitant about stepping barefoot on the dewy grass down to The Scrape (a fire circle at the bottom of the garden). Seated on a tree stump, I heard the distant sound of drumming, then Katy appeared on the horizon. Soon, my cold feet were forgotten, and my heart was being stirred by her vibrational performance.
Once ignited, my cold weather bravery became unstoppable. Following a clifftop walk – cows on one side, turquoise sea on the other – we clambered down to the beach at Bossiney Haven where I joyously shed my winter clothes and ran into the freezing sea (and straight out again!) Afterwards I joined the group in a womb-like cave, we held hands and raced across the soft sand, hooting with pleasure. On the last day, I rose early for a silent pilgrimage to St Nectan’s Glen where I stood, with my sisters, in the bracing water, with the powerful waterfall thundering spray in my happy face.
These four days of reflection, shared vulnerabilities, and group hugs awakened me to the realisation that I’d been so busy doing and overthinking, that I’d forgotten about feeling and being (human). Through this deeply spiritual, empowering and authentic experience I realised that the answer was simple. All I had to do was open to Katy’s ancient wisdom and join her invitation to step outside.
