07 - The Tree Retreat: A Journey to Stillness and Sanctuary

The Tree Retreat: A Journey Into Stillness, Healing, and Home

In this gentle visualisation, Kay invites you to experience The Tree, a deeply nourishing retreat centre nestled in the North Yorkshire Moors. Inspired by a recent visit with her son, this episode is an immersive journey into rest, reconnection, and the quiet beauty of simply being.

You’ll be guided through a sensory-rich exploration of this sacred space - from forest paths and flickering candles to yoga nidra, gongs, and the warmth of shared meals. Let the peaceful rhythm of the retreat carry you home to yourself, wherever you are.

This is a practice in presence. A gift of peace. A reminder that healing begins when we allow ourselves to pause.

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Transcript

Recently, I spent a weekend at The Tree. It's a very special retreat centre nestled in the heart of the North Yorkshire Moors. I went with one of my sons who was visiting from Australia. 

It was more than just time away. It was a gift of untold magnitude. A pause from the rush of daily life and a return to what really matters. 

Connection, stillness, presence and peace. I invite you now to come with me, to journey there in your mind, to experience this sacred place through your senses and to receive the calm it offers wherever you are today. So take a moment to get really comfortable, whether you are lying down or sitting. 

Let your hands rest where they feel at ease. Let your shoulders melt a little and gently, very gently, close your eyes. Feel the eyelids together where they meet. 

Maybe feel a soft smile at the corners of your mouth. Let's begin with a breath. Take a slow, deep inhale and exhale softly.

And again, inhale gently and release. Allow your body to begin to settle. And with each breath, imagine tension leaving. 

Imagine spaciousness arriving. Now imagine you're driving through the open countryside of North Yorkshire. The road winds through ancient land, heather covered hills, mossy stone walls, wide open skies. 

You feel the noise of the world begin to quiet. The rhythm of your mind begins to slow. You're traveling towards somewhere that lives half in the world and half in the soul. 

You arrive at the tree, the tree relaxation retreat. It's a place that welcomes you like an old friend nestled gently into the land. Surrounded by rolling hills and the hush of forests, the tree is a place of true stillness. 

There's a main house full of light and warmth, with cozy bedrooms inviting communal spaces and a beautiful dining room where nourishing meals are so lovingly served. Next door to the main house, there is a chapel and it was once a Wesleyan place of worship, now transformed into the most sacred of yoga spaces. The two buildings together feel like two hands in prayer, one offering comfort, the other deep healing. 

As you step out of your car, you take a breath of clean air, fresh, full of life. You can hear the sound of birds greeting you, swallows darting across the sky, larks singing high above. You walk slowly towards the house. 

The front door opens and a warm smile welcomes you in. The staff, well they're part of the heart of this place, attentive, gentle, kind. They move with grace and quiet care, like they know that everyone who comes here is carrying something that needs tenderness. 

You take off your shoes, your feet touch the floor. There's a calm that settles all around you, as though the walls themselves are whispering, rest now, you are safe, you are safe. You're shown to your room, lights spilling across the bed. 

You breathe deeply, already you feel the layers beginning to simply fall away. Soon it's time to walk across to the chapel. You can walk through the gardens.

Past the swing, looking out over the fields or you can walk up the road and there's pretty lighting along the wall all the way from the house up towards the chapel. If you look down from the road you can see the fire pit beautifully laid out in the gardens below. And you can also see the tree, the original tree that the tree was named after. 

You move slowly, noticing the quiet between footsteps, the gentle rustle of trees, the stillness held in this sacred place. As you step inside the yoga space you are greeted by the scent of incense, earthy and calming. Candles flicker gently on the window ledges. 

Green plants stretch towards the light, the space is bright and open and it's wrapped in a soft spiritual stillness. You take a seat, mats are already laid out along side bolsters, blankets, eye pillows. Everything has been prepared with intention. 

You feel held, held even before anything begins. Edward and Claire, the retreat's owners, guide you gently through the practice. Their presence, kind, grounded and full of wisdom. 

Inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly. You are led into slow mindful movement, nothing rushed, nothing strained. Each stretch feels like a prayer, each moment an invitation to come home to yourself. 

Outside the tall windows, the hills hold you in silence. A few birds pass by, weaving in and out of the clouds. There's no pressure here, no need to perform, you simply are and that is enough. 

You lie back now, wrapped in blankets, beginning yoga nidra, a deep guided rest. You drift gently between wakefulness and sleep, aware but surrendered, safe. You are safe. 

And then the sounds of the gong begin to ripple through the room. Soft at first, then fuller and deeper. The vibrations move through your body like water gently washing away the residue of stress, clearing everything that has been stuck. 

And afterwards, you float back into stillness, eyes closed, heart open, mind quiet. You rest. Later, you walk through the woods nearby.

The forest paths are quiet and mossy. Sunlight filters through the leaves. For me, I was walking side by side with my son Will. 

There was no need for words, just the joy of being here together, held by the land. You return to the house, where the smell of wholesome food wraps around you. Nourishing vegetarian meals served with kindness, love and care. 

You sit at a table with people who only hours ago were strangers, but now there's warmth, connection, a shared softness. Everyone here has come with something, grief, stress, illness, longing, a need for space, time, a pause when everyone is received gently, lovingly and held. Held as if in a soft hammock, soothed. 

There is time for rest, for the hot tub, the sauna, maybe the cold plunge if you dare. And maybe like me, you book a massage. The therapist's touch, attuned to exactly what your body needs, like a piece of chocolate melting in the sun. 

You let go, completely. By the final day, something has shifted. You're lighter. 

Your breath is deeper. You're feeling grounded, healed. You've shared something sacred with others, but also with yourself.

And as you enjoy the final meal, a delicious, abundant vegetarian roast, you feel full in every sense of the word. And then you leave. There are hugs, kisses, goodbyes, with people that you never knew before that weekend. 

You leave. But you know what? The tree doesn't leave you. It stays in your breath, in the way your feet meet the earth, in the way your heart has softened, in the way you remember what it feels like to be. 

Just to be. Not just to do. Take a deep breath in and release. 

Feel your body. Feel Mother Earth beneath you. Feel the peace that you have gathered. 

And you can stay where you are or you can gently move, softly wriggling fingers and toes, rocking gently from side to side. Stretching. And then rolling over onto your side into a fetal position and pausing.

If you'd like to push yourself back up into sitting, please do. Keep your eyes closed if you can. Gently rub your hands together. 

Place your hands over your eyes and softly open your eyes into your hands. Let your hands release gently down your face. You are home and the healing stays with you. 

Thank you for joining me in this tree, the tree retreat visualization. May you return to this space in memory or in presence. Whenever your cell needs to rest, you can always rest there in your mind's eye or visit. 

Peace, peace and peace. Thank you for sharing this quiet space with me. I hope it brought you a sense of peace and presence. 

If you feel moved too, I'd love to hear how it landed for you. Your thoughts and feedback really helped me shape future sessions with care. You're welcome to subscribe and share this with anyone who might find it helpful. 

And if you'd like to be a guest on the podcast or simply connect, I'd love to hear from you. Until we meet again, go gently. Thank you.