What does “healing in community” really mean
The first time I thought about the term “healing in community” was somewhere halfway through my 200-hour yoga teacher training.
I didn’t sign up because I knew I wanted to host retreats, explore the wellness industry through an entrepreneurial lens, or for any other grandiose reason. Transparently? It was something that had always sounded interesting to me—something that hopefully could push me outside my comfort zone when it came to vulnerability, which I hoped might lead to more confidence.
Turns out, I was right on the money.
Growing up, I experienced a lot of big moments with big emotions—many of which I didn’t start to make sense of in a meaningful way until I was in my 20s. I can still point to the moment I decided, “I don’t want to be angry or bitter or resentful. I want to really forgive and mean it.” That shift happened when a dear friend gifted me A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson when I was 23. I don’t think she knew how pivotal that gift was for me, but it truly is the moment I credit with my return to spirituality.
That book took me months to get through—unlearning and relearning is no small feat. I kept going down the path: reading books, doing yoga, dabbling in meditation, committing to journaling, occasionally attending sound healings or new moon ceremonies.
But it wasn’t until I moved to San Diego and did my 200-hour YTT at 27 that my “healing journey,” for lack of a better word, took on true leaps and bounds.
Maybe it was all the asana (movement—for all my non-yogis), the breathwork, the philosophical teachings. Maybe it was the fact that for 3 months my time was mostly spent at such a spiritual studio (Trilogy Sanctuary in La Jolla is truly a horse of a different color type of studio to me). But the biggest thing for me I have to credit to was the circles.
We would sit in a circle with our 12-person training group, and it was a sacred thing—we were not to speak over one another, try to fix anything for anyone, or even reference what someone else had said in circle when sharing our own thoughts. When we spoke, it had to be solely from our own thoughts and experiences.
In that circle, I opened up in ways I wasn’t sure I could. I talked about my biggest life lessons, the forgiveness I had to learn, the things that kept me up at night, who I hoped to become. I even shared a very visual depiction of what I imagined the inside of my mind looked like (still one of my favorite pieces of writing to date—thank you, Gabrielle, for asking us that question).
The growth I experienced from using my voice and taking up space in a group—knowing I wouldn’t be judged, pitied, gaslit or rooted against—changed my life. It allowed me to transform into a more confident, self-assured, creative, expressive, trusting, and open person.
And when I got the idea for RetreatVi, I felt the kind of conviction most aspiring founders dream of. Yes, I wanted to host retreats. Yes, I wanted to make them easier to find. But those were just logistics and market gaps at the end of the day. What I really wanted was to help people experience the power of healing in community. I felt what it did for me and all I wanted to do was share that magic.
We can only go so far on our own. But when we get into the right room, with the right people, and the right support? We’re off to the races—on the path to our highest self and most aligned becoming.
If you find yourself repeating the same situations and patterns—or if, like me, you’ve read all the books but still revert back to someone who doesn’t quite walk the walk in hard moments for some reason—seek out opportunities for healing in community in your city. Join a women’s circle. Try a breathwork workshop. Attend a ceremony. Go on a retreat.
I truly cannot say enough about the power of healing in community—though I will absolutely keep trying to sing praises about it.