Mile High Mindfulness
In late August, my husband Augustus and I travelled to Rocky Mountain Village in Empire, CO to attend the LoveYourBrain Yoga retreat. I first learned about these retreats a few years ago from a friend who attended. These retreats are hosted across the country, inspired by Kevin Pearce, a former professional snowboarder who won medals at the 2008 Winter XGames. While training in Park City, Utah the following year, Kevin sustained a traumatic brain injury (TBI) when he smashed his head on the ice after attempting a half-pipe trick called the double-cork, which is a twisted double back-flip.
That was a year after I also sustained a TBI, in the Summer of 2008.
Fast forward seventeen years, while visiting D.C. for National Brain Injury Awareness Day, I meditated with Kyla Pearce, who is Kevin's sister-in-law, during a program designed for attendees. A recent study shows that these yoga retreats significantly improve resilience, emotional regulation, and cognition after TBI. During this moment of stillness and reflection, I was inspired to learn more about the LoveYourBrain Yoga Retreats. I heard wonderful reviews about the program which is designed for brain injury survivors and their caregivers.
I do not actually recall much about the application process. Because I have received LoveYourBrain Yoga Retreat emails for several years, I went back through them to follow the breadcrumbs. I discovered, a week after returning from D.C., I received an invitation to attend a retreat at Rocky Mountain Village. After confirming our travel arrangements and completing their Travel and Medical Form, two spots were confirmed for us.
Augustus and I are not a particularly active or flexible pair, but we threw caution to the wind when we considered the words "yoga retreat". I was not dissuaded when I imagined skinny athletes wearing tight pants. Instead, my husband bravely typed "yoga pants" in the Amazon Search bar and away we went, with our hearts and minds open.
What sealed the deal was when I discovered a new Allegiant Airline route opened up and provided a direct flight from Asheville Regional Airport (AVL) to Denver International Airport (DEN) for less than $50 each way! In fact, it would cost more to fly our luggage to Denver than ourselves. A local friend hosted us at his lovely homestead outside of Boulder for a few days, then he drove us to the retreat when it officially began.
This provided an opportunity to get acclimated to the new elevation. It seemed like we adjusted pretty quickly, other than the return of a forgotten pain that I felt in an old ankle injury. Although we already reside at 2,100 ft in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the retreat location in the Rocky Mountains rose to over 8,500 ft. This meant I would be meditating well over a mile in the sky.
I did not have many preconceived ideas of what this experience would be, although I hoped to take home an updated meditation practice. I left with so much more. Friends and laughter. Memories and photos. More peace of mind. The skillful facilitators delicately explained the difference between mindfulness and meditation. They are closely linked, which is why the terms are often used interchangeably, but the two practices aren't exactly the same. Mindfulness is a meditation practice that encourages individuals to focus on their internal experiences such as bodily sensations, thoughts, and emotions. Meditation is the practice of sustaining attention on the body, breath, sensations, or whatever arises in each moment.
Normally I do a guided meditation for ten minutes daily. Truth be told, I had not been relying on my meditation practice for a few weeks prior, because our calendars were chocked full of travel. All fun, but not many nights were spent in our own bed.
Speaking of beds... I have survived my fair share of camp sleeping arrangements, so my hopes were not high that the beds at Rocky Mountain Village would be anything to write home about. But they were! After waking completely relaxed and refreshed, I learned that since 1926, this place has served people of all ages, at all stages of their lives, and with all kinds of disabilities, throughout Colorado. The camp’s mission is “Creating a future where people with disabilities, their families, and caregivers all have the opportunity to thrive and fully participate in our communities.” The cabins were decked out with topnotch bedding donations, and despite the sleep disturbances I usually experience, my dreams may have been made sweeter as a result.
Since we were at a yoga retreat the practice was woven into all parts of each day. Before bed on our first night, we did yoga nidra. This is a form of guided meditation practiced lying down, focusing on a progressive physical relaxation of the body, and calming the mind through verbal cues. After our first restful night of deep sleep, my husband and I awoke early and ready to seize the day! So, we slipped quietly out of our cabin into a gorgeous forest of Ponderosa pines as the sun was rising, and walked a lovely path called Chelsea’s Boardwalk that was connected to the lodge where we stayed.
In addition to meeting so many incredible people, one of my favorite camp experiences was eating the meals prepared by a retired neurologist turned chef and his Dishing It Out Team, who were kitchen volunteers. We ate rainbows for every meal. All the vibrant produce tasted so fresh, it was as if it leapt from the earth, danced with herbs and olive oil before it threw itself directly across my plate. Meditating miles up in the sky meant one needs to stay hydrated, so I filled my trusty water bottle more regularly than usual.
We were invited to eat our last two breakfasts mindfully, by not speaking during the meal to help us more fully appreciate the food and flavors. The act of eating in the silence is often considered a meditation. This was not my first silent meal. When I did it before, I remember trying my best to avoid any and all eye contact. So, this time I was playing a game of trying to connect with anyone else’s gaze. I glanced from face-to-face but no matter how long I lingered, no other eyes met mine.
A retreat facilitator approached my table quietly and whispered an invitation into my ear to sing us out of the silence. So, I chose one of my favorite tunes from the musical Oklahoma. I started quietly with the first verse about a bright golden haze on the meadow, and by the time I reached the chorus many others spontaneously joined in. “Oh, what a beautiful morning. Oh, what a beautiful day. I’ve got a wonderful feeling, everything‘s going my way.” This brought joyful tears to a few faces both mornings that it happened.
One of the retreat highlights was a mask-making project; an initiative where individuals affected by brain injury decorate masks to express their experiences, raise awareness, and provide a platform to share their unique perspectives. When it was time to pair off to make paper-mache masks of our faces, my husband leaned towards me, but I popped up and strolled across the room towards a woman who I locked eyes with and had not talked to yet. I asked if we could be partners, she laid down first and while I slid petroleum jelly across her cheeks and eye lids, we introduced ourselves. I learned she was a mom who missed her small daughter terribly. I dipped strips into paper-mache and slathered the sticky white pieces across her lovely complexion. We chatted while it hardened, and I was able to slip it off easily before and I lay down for my turn.
As the cold wet paper made contact with my skin, I thought back to the first mask I made in 2016 with the Unmasking Brain Injury Project. It hangs proudly in my office, and I love the story it tells. This time I didn’t have a plan in mind. Before we started, I told Augustus that I felt unprepared, and he said I didn’t have to make a mask, that I could help others make theirs or explore the available materials to see if I was inspired by anything.
When my partner carefully peeled the freshly hardened mask from my face, I walked to the supplies table and felt indifferent about the colorful feathers, flower petals, oil paints, and glitter. She started painting her mask gold, which seemed like a viable option, so I squirted gold onto my palate and began smearing it onto mine as well. Others around me were fully invested in glue sticks, twirling pipe cleaners for hair, drawing intricate branches, affixing feathers to various openings. I stuck a pink rhinestone heart to the forehead of my mask, and my chest started to tighten. Something started to grow in my throat, so I politely cleaned my area, set my half-finished wet mask down to dry with the others and slipped outside to walk back to my cabin.
From over my shoulder, I was glad to hear the same retreat facilitator who encouraged me to sing at breakfast call my name. I shared my frustration about not having a plan in mind and feeling uninspired because I loved my previous mask. So, they invited me to share a picture of that one from my phone when the time came. Which I did. While we sat in a circle on the floor, another camper expressed his frustration that he missed this creative session because he forgot or did not know about it. That’s when I got up and slid my half-finished mask toward him. He smiled and said he’d add it to a mask collection he was building back at his home.
The final night featured a Talent Show. Aside from the first entry by a poet, and the second entry by yours truly, the Talent Show sign-up sheet hung empty for a few more meals before other names started to appear. In the end, the show was made up of poetry, videos, karaoke, a group cheer, slideshows, a dancer, a reading of Psalm 23 and two songwriters who shared their original works. My husband became affectionately known as "Augi" and performed his song called Light Bulb, which was about growing weed in his bedroom closet. I had never seen him perform on a stage before and smiled as the words to his song were followed by roaring laughter.
Anyone who knows me knows I chose my favorite karaoke tune “Angel from Montgomery“ and I was pleasantly surprised that a talented musician, Ella McDonald, not only already knew how to play this song on the guitar, but also harmonized beautifully. I have been enjoying Ella McDonald’s original songs on Apple Music ever since I returned home. Check out these tunes on your favorite streaming platform!
On the last morning, we posed for the signature group photo in front of the LoveYourBrain sign. Folks wore lots of LYB flare and I wore a t-shirt signed by Kevin himself that I bought years ago. Many of us reluctantly boarded the luxury airport shuttle. During the ride, we reminisced about our favorite moments and shared tears, hugs, and laughter. The love and acceptance we strangers experienced during this retreat can never be recreated. We will try to keep it in our hearts, and hopefully be able to draw from this reserve of resilience whenever future struggles arise.
