I Went on a Luxury Breast Cancer Retreat

At first I didn't want to go

I lay on a table, stark naked, while two women rubbed warm herbal oil all over my body, their movements synchronized. I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore the fact that every bit of me was exposed.

It was Day 3 of a weeklong retreat in Greece for women who had gone through cancer. The room was candlelit, perfumed by wisps of incense. My mastectomy scar was on full display. Up until now, no one but my family and doctors had seen it.

And then I realized something. After months of grueling cancer treatment, a time when my body had been cut, injected, scanned, and pumped with medication, this was the first time I had been so lovingly and attentively touched. For a full hour, two women, one of whom had had breast cancer herself, were putting all their energy into simply making me feel good.

Marinated in oil, I left the room and blinked at the bright sunlight glittering on the sea.

A year before I had been lying under the radiation machine. Now I was here, doing yoga, meditating, napping, eating fresh vegetarian food, and having my body oiled.

Sounds like heaven, right? But here’s the thing: At first, I really didn’t want to go.

The Invitation

My husband’s cousin, an obstetrician and gynecologist in Maine, had invited me to attend the retreat, which she was hosting at her house on the island of Kea, a short ferry ride from Athens.

The kids had just started school after a long summer, and a whole week away seemed too indulgent. Sure, I had taken solo trips before, but usually they were for work, or to visit family or friends. I had never been on a retreat dedicated to me and my own wellbeing. Who has time for that? But my husband kept bringing it up, urging me to go, and I started to come around to the idea.

The doctors and medicine had healed me, in the sense they had removed the cancer, stopping it from progressing. But I had no clear guidance on where to next. Once treatment had ended, I was left to pick up the pieces alone. I had been thrown into menopause pretty much overnight, my body looked and felt different—stiffer, scarred—and I was still so tired. Add to that the emotional trauma of a cancer diagnosis and the very real fear of recurrence. Maybe this retreat would help guide me on how to navigate this new reality.

Still, I felt nervous. I didn’t know any of the other attendees. Would it be too intense? Would I get to escape to my room if needed? There was also the question of cost. Because it was the inaugural retreat, I was getting a steep discount, but it was still a fair amount of money.

I like to think I’m someone who says “yes” to life, and I have a fear of one day having regrets. So at what felt like the eleventh hour, I decided to just do it.

A few days later, I packed my bag and flew to Greece.

I was immediately put at ease when I met the other women. I was the youngest one there, and I felt mothered by the retreat leaders in a way I hadn’t been since my own mother died. What I remember most vividly are their kind faces. The way they would tell me to go take a nap, ask if I’d had enough to eat, bring me a cup of tea, listen while I spoke, smile when I entered the room.

There were no intense group therapy sessions, and we didn’t even talk much about cancer, at least as a group. We chatted about our lives—our children, work, relationships. And also about the ways Ayurvedic philosophies could help support us going forward.

Here is some of what we did that stood out to me:

Pre-Sunrise Silent Walk

Each morning, we had the option to meet before sunrise and go for a walk together in silence. It removed the pressure to perform. You could just be with others without needing to be entertaining or profound. I loved starting the walk in the dark and watching as the sun rose above the sea, the wind whipping around us.

Ayurvedic Cleanse

For the first three days, we all followed a kitchari cleanse, where we ate a simple meal of rice, lentils, and vegetables twice a day (along with fruit and tea in the morning). I don’t believe in detoxes or cleanses, but I do think this acted like a reset button. Also, kitchari is delicious.

1:1 Consult

As I mentioned, Julie, the host, is an obstetrician and gynecologist, and she’s also a breast cancer survivor. She and her husband, a gynecologic oncologist, believe there’s real value in integrating Ayurvedic principles with Western medicine. I met with Julie for a 1:1 consultation, for close to two hours, where we went deep on my diagnosis and treatment. She’s empathetic and warm, and the conversation brought me a lot of comfort. It helped me feel confident that my current treatment plan is the right one.

Julie, our retreat host and actual angel on earth

Oil Massage

The massage I described earlier is called abhyanga, and the goal is to regulate the nervous system and oil the joints. Another treatment involved a thin, steady stream of warm oil poured onto my forehead. I envisioned it as a golden liquid and it was deeply relaxing. My favorite focused on my lower back. A ring of dough was placed on my skin and filled with warm oil. It was so simple, and yet it put me into a meditative space. At one point I wasn’t sure if I was awake or dreaming.

Then there were some things that didn’t quite work for me.

Breathwork

One evening, we lay down and rested our legs over bolsters, readying for a breathwork class. The moon was out, and I could smell the salty sea air. But manipulating my breath started causing me anxiety. I kept feeling like I wasn’t getting enough air, which only made me more anxious. I wanted to jump up and run away.

Kundalini Yoga

This was a vinyasa class—more my speed

Back when I lived in LA, I had a couple of friends who were really into kundalini yoga. So I went to a few classes with them, but it just didn’t resonate with me. I couldn’t get behind all the breathing (notice a trend?). We did one kundalini class on retreat, and I started to feel anxious again. The other yoga classes—hatha and vinyasa—suited me better.

Coming Home

On the final night, we all gathered for a closing ceremony, a time for us to reflect on the week. I shared that I was a little apprehensive about going home to my husband and kids. I had been ensconced in the protective bubble of the retreat, far away from the stressors of daily life. I felt grounded and inspired, but I was worried about losing that when I got back. Lisa, our wonderful chef, helped flip my perspective.

“All they really want to know is that you still love them,” she said.

I had had this transformative experience, separate to my family, while they had continued with their normal routines. All they needed was reassurance. So instead of worrying about how their energy was going to affect me, I instead focused on what energy I brought to them.

And so when I got home, I was loving and open, staying present and listening to their stories.

My husband smiled and said, “Isn’t it nice to have Mommy home?”

Here’s the link to the retreat, if you’d like to learn more x