A Year On: Lessons from My First Yoga Retreat
When Rest Became A Reset
A year ago, I flew to Sweden for my first ever yoga retreat - a long weekend by a lake surrounded by forest and stillness run by Wild Times, held at the yoga community and retreat centre Shambala Gatherings.
I didn’t know it then, but those few days would mark a quiet turning point for me.
At the time, I was craving space. After years of family upheaval, perimenopause, and a restlessness I was feeling in work, I felt disconnected - from myself, from confidence, from calm. Signing up for the retreat felt both brave and uncertain. Travelling alone abroad (first time in 6 years), meeting strangers, and wondering whether I was experienced enough in yoga to do this - it was a leap into the unknown.
The Experience That Changed My Pace
The retreat ran from Thursday to Sunday - gentle, restorative, set in a beautiful location, and quietly transformative in ways I only came to understand later.
Each day began with yoga in a light-filled shala that overlooked the forest. I still remember the morning sunlight glinting over the lake through the windows as we quietly gathered for our yoga session at the start of each day.
That first full day, I wrote in my journal:
“Let go. Let yourself feel. Let yourself forgive. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself remember. Let yourself be quiet. Let yourself be.
How do I feel?
I feel cosy and calm. Rested. The lake is inky, and I’m drawn to watching the rain fall on it, and the wind blow ripples across its surface.
Intention: to just be.”
Looking at this notebook now, I’m struck that the mantra was already taking shape back then. I’d forgotten that in Sweden, I was quietly crafting this intention for myself - a simple thread of ‘just be’ that has guided me through this year.
The retreat also brought up emotions I hadn’t expected. I hadn’t planned on doing any deep work, but it became about letting go - shedding emotional baggage I’d carried for some time - all within the safe, nurturing space our host, Jenny created.
On The Mat
Jenny guided us through a blend of yoga styles across the weekend - Nidra on the first night, Vinyasa in the mornings followed by meditation, and Yin in the afternoons.
Some yoga sessions were strong and flowing, others slow and grounding - a reminder that yoga doesn’t have to look a certain way. Jenny’s relaxed, encouraging style, with options for every pose, eased my nerves. And as always, telling my left from right side continued to be a challenge!
Swedish Frosty Morning
There was a chill in the air in October (more so than at home in the UK), especially first thing in the morning or in the evening. It had that crisp, autumnal feel with a mist on the water and a touch of frost.
There was no pressure to do every class; everything was offered as a suggestion. Jenny often encouraged us to do as little or as much as we wanted - reminding us of the importance of rest and that this was our time to make of it what we needed. I really liked that gentle encouragement without rigid structure - a real go with the flow feeling.
Throughout the days there was time to rest, walk in the forest, swim, sauna, nap, journal, or read - and I think it was the first time I started to see resting or napping as something I could do without feeling guilty.
Meals were organic and plant-based, prepared by Lisa Esposito (chef Sunny) and the volunteers at the retreat. We ate together with the volunteers and another group staying at Shambala, and mealtimes had a warm, inclusive, almost family-like feel. I’m not vegetarian or vegan, but I love vegetables and that style of cuisine. There was always a colourful, nourishing spread that the foodie in me eagerly looked forward to. My new favourite cuppa - ginger and turmeric tea - became a morning ritual, and the care put into the food left me feeling nurtured throughout the weekend.
A lunchtime spread of vibrant, plant-based dishes served during the Wild Times yoga retreat at Shambala Gatherings.
Breakfasts were silent - my first experience of shared reflective time - which I really liked. I found something very peaceful in that collective quiet at the start of the day. Sometimes we could eat outside on the decking area just a few metres from the lake. It was a bit chilly, but eating slowly, with a throw over our knees, surrounded by nature, looking out on to the lake and it’s stillness, felt like another kind of meditation.
A highlight of the weekend was our time in the floating, wood-fired sauna moored on the lake. I always enjoy trying something new, and although I’d used saunas before, I’d never really grasped their appeal - especially not when combined with wild swimming. Once again, the connection to nature and the outdoors really resonated with me.
Stepping from the heat straight into the cold water was both shocking and deeply calming. I’m not the strongest of swimmers, so it took some courage to get into the lake, but the women I’d met were incredibly supportive and encouraging. There was an element of bravery, and the reward afterwards felt deeply empowering. A few of us decided we’d wake at dawn on our last morning, and I couldn’t resist a skinny dip - my first in life, I might add.
It felt so empowering - a true feeling of being alive and wild in nature. Letting go of doubt and fully embracing myself in that moment filled me with pure joy, and I couldn’t have done it without the encouragement of the lovely women I met.
On the final night, as I let a page from my journal burn in the bonfire, I felt something shift. That simple act of release became a quiet promise to myself - to let go of what no longer served me, and to make space for what might.
Another highlight of the weekend was a talk by Rebecca Lazarou, a medicinal plant scientist and herbal expert. We explored the benefits of different herbs and created our own tea blend. Handling the dried herbs, inhaling their aromas, and learning about them was a lovely addition to the weekend - and even now, drinking my handmade blend at home often transports me back to the calm and quiet forests of Sweden.
The Lessons That Travelled Home With Me
When I look back now, the retreat feels less like an event and more like a seed that was planted - one that’s still growing.
1. Clarity needs space.
Without space, change can’t happen. Those few days away helped me see I needed to slow down, step back, and create room to breathe. That clarity eventually gave me the courage to leave my job, go freelance and reshape how I live and work.
2. Solo doesn’t mean lonely.
Travelling alone taught me I could be both independent and deeply connected. It helped me rebuild self-trust - something I’d lost along the way.
3. Presence over perfection.
Yoga, I realised, isn’t about performance. It’s about meeting yourself as you are. Now, my mornings often begin with slow stretches or breathwork - small moments that carry the same calm I felt in those Swedish shala mornings.
4. Nature restores balance.
Cold water, forest air, firelight - those elements reminded me how much healing sits quietly in nature. I carry that home in simple ways: a walk in my local woods or a pause outside with a cuppa during my working day.
5. Believe in your own resilience.
Perimenopause, anxiety, grief - they had all chipped away at my confidence. The retreat helped me find it again. It reminded me that courage doesn’t always look bold; sometimes it’s just booking the flight.
A Year On
A year on, I can still feel the echoes of those days - the calm of early mornings, the courage to try something new, and the reminder that it’s okay not to have everything figured out.
The retreat reminded me that creating space for yourself matters, and even small steps outside your comfort zone can open up more clarity, calm, and confidence than you expect. Above all, it reminded me to just be - to show up, slow down, to breathe, and to trust the quiet unfolding of life.
