I Carried This Retreat for a Year — Then India Carried Me

I’ve been trying to find the words that do this justice. To explain what it means to build something from your heart — from nothing but a dream, a whisper — and carry it across time zones, fears, burnout, and logistics… to push others to see your vision and actually have them commit to making it real. That’s not a small thing. That’s its own kind of initiation.

From February 14–24, 2025, I co-led a Healing Yoga, Cultural & Ayurveda Retreat in Kerala, South India. Thirteen beautiful humans said yes to this experience. Over those eleven days, we moved from the beaches of Chowara to the ancient temples of Trivandrum, spent time in deep study and discipline at the Sivananda Ashram, and landed in Varkala for our final stretch of Ayurvedic treatments, ocean air, and integration.

What unfolded was far beyond my control — and far beyond what I ever could have imagined.

This Retreat Wasn’t Just a Container — It Was a Year in the Making

I began planning this retreat right after finishing my 300-hour yoga teacher training. For over a year, I carried this vision. Through every scheduling decision, WhatsApp voice note, Zoom call, deposit deadline, changed plan, and personal wave of self-doubt… I kept showing up.

No matter that my co-leaders were spread across different continents with different visions. No matter that communication sometimes broke down or things were left unsaid. No matter what people told me —

“You’re not ready for this.”

“You won’t make any money.”

“This is a waste of time.”

I kept going — even when the people closest to me, including family, friends, and coworkers, didn’t fully understand what I was building. Because this retreat was never about creating the perfect itinerary or curating content for social media. It was about initiating people into the real texture of India: devotion, discomfort, beauty, rhythm, contradiction, and healing.

And India didn’t disappoint. She never does.

The Journey: Beaches, Temples, Ashram, and Ayurveda

We began in Chowara, a quiet beachside village outside Trivandrum. The air was thick with salt and incense. Peacocks cried from the trees at dawn. We opened the retreat with a Pooja and Satsang and visited a local Shiva temple that first night. From the start, we rooted this journey in reverence.

Our days in Chowara included early morning yoga and meditation, a magical boat ride through the Poovar backwaters, and shared group dinners that swung from quiet reflection to full-belly laughter. I taught energizing, intentional yoga practices each morning — grounding, breath-led, full-body — designed to bring people back into themselves after long travel and overstimulated minds.

One evening, we attended a Kathakali performance — Kerala’s classical dance-drama known for its vibrant makeup, elaborate costuming, and mythological storytelling through movement. It was absolutely mesmerizing. Another night, we watched a more modern, mixed-style cultural performance — part contemporary, part traditional, with theatrical dance, drums, and rhythm that pulsed through the floor.

From there, we moved into the heart of Trivandrum, visiting sacred temples and then arriving at the Sivananda Ashram — a place that demanded silence, structure, and surrender.

For two days, we lived by the Ashram rhythm: 5:30am wake-ups, karma yoga, chanting, traditional asana, silent meals, and long moments of inward reflection. Some people loved it. Others found it confronting. For me, it was a letting go — of needing to “guide,” of needing to manage, of needing to fix. The Ashram held us in its own way, and I stepped back to let that happen.

Then we transitioned to Varkala, a cliffside town with sweeping ocean views. The energy shifted. There was more space to breathe. We resumed our own rhythm — morning yoga, Ayurvedic treatments, journaling, rest, and shopping. A much-needed exhale.

By the time we closed our final Satsang circle, something had landed. You could feel it. Something real had moved through us.

What It Meant to Hold This

Even with support, holding this retreat stretched me more than anything I’ve done in my professional life.

No one saw the hours I spent researching every location, coordinating daily logistics, translating between cultures, and working with a country where everything — everything — is a negotiation. Even when something was "set," it wasn’t. I had to be on, every hour, every day.

Like when I was at the airport leaving India — my bags were barely 10 pounds overweight, even after I’d already paid for extra baggage. The agent told me it would be $300 USD. I could’ve cried. Instead, I stood there, tired and sunburned, and negotiated my way out of it. And it worked. Not because I was pushy — but because by that point, I had learned how to navigate this constant dance between firmness and grace, between structure and surrender.

No one saw me constantly tracking group energy, answering questions, adjusting plans on the fly, teaching each morning, and still holding space with as much presence as I could muster.

No one saw the ways I doubted myself. The nights I didn’t sleep. The toll it took on my body and nervous system. Or the fact that I had to keep showing up — for thirteen others — even when I had food poisoning or when I was silently unraveling behind the scenes.

And still, I gave it everything. I led. I held. I witnessed. I walked the beaches and did energy work. I held space during breakdowns. I laughed on the back of a tuk-tuk, then cried quietly in my room. I taught full-bodied yoga with swollen feet and a sunburn.I did it all.Because I believed in this.

Afterward: The Continued Shedding

What no one talks about is the after. The grief. The silence. The weird limbo of being home when you no longer feel like the same version of yourself.

I’ve been in New Zealand since, and what I’ve realized is that the shedding didn’t end in India. It’s still happening. Old versions of me are falling away. Stories I no longer want to carry are dissolving.

This retreat called forth a version of me I hadn’t fully met before. And now that I’ve met her, I can’t go back.

What Comes Next

Right now, I’m not rushing into the next thing. I’m resting. Integrating. Listening.

I’m still offering distance Reiki, Akashic Records sessions, and custom sound healings — but it’s coming from a different place now. A deeper place. A truer place.

There will be more retreats. But this one was the beginning — the moment that changed the trajectory.

So if you’re holding a vision like this — a dream that no one else sees yet — please don’t give up.Let this be your reminder:You can do hard things.You can hold what’s sacred, even when it’s messy.You don’t need permission.

India held me. She changed me.

And now, I’m learning how to hold myself in the after.

With love from the quiet,

Katie