Going to a spa overnight during a pandemic involves a great deal of mask wearing (which can feel funny for a
minute during a treatment but quickly gets easier), handwashing, social distancing, and outside classes whenever
possible. In many cases, these measures deepened the experience: My 8 a.m. Qigong classes with a Qigong and Tai
Chi master were conducted beneath a stand of tall, yellow-orange-and-red maples under a brilliant clear blue sky,
for instance. As we felt energy moving through our bodies, we watched it move through the landscape: wind,
swirling leaves, shifting sunshine. When we ordered room service, it came packed in adorable picnic baskets. And
we chose activities best conducted outside anyway—hikes, working with horses, and of course, the aforementioned
owl experience.

Being myself, I brought a lot of skin care: glow-boosting, skin-smoothing, ultramoisturizing
treatments. I wanted to frontload the results, so the first night, I deployed my 15% overnight peel—the most packable
skin treatment of all time, and there is nothing in this world like it for glow. After a late-afternoon
stretching class, a stroll through the Japanese rock garden with a few stops for raking, and a healthyish dinner
(the menu is more nice-restaurant than full-on cleanse, but you can customize) complete with several glasses of
wine, all I had to do before falling into the fluffy down pillows and comforter was swipe my skin with the
pad—about all I had the bandwidth to do at that point, truth be told.

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Photo courtesy of James Baigrie

I woke up the next morning in time for the glorious Qigong class; the glow, even before an hour spent shifting my
energy out in the crisp air, was noticeable.

Spa treatments are conducted—socially distanced and masked, of course—inside a gorgeous building inventively
designed by Clodagh with woven branches, stunning art pieces, the sounds and visuals of trickling water, and
lots of space, along with cushy robes, slippers, and blankets at every turn. The pedicure chairs are made with a
built-in massage option, and everything from the haircuts to the Reiki sessions is conducted by super
experienced, kind, assured masters in their fields.

Photos courtesy of James Baigrie

The soothing, luxurious nest of a spa stands in stark contrast to the rough, dusty horse barn, but real magic
happens in both places. The Arizona Miraval is famous for its horse program, and it’s not replicated here as
much as built upon. The practitioners are different, but the goals are similar: By working with a
horse—cleaning it, leading it, feeding it—you can experience real personal growth, psychological
breakthroughs, and deeper personal understanding. An extraordinary woman named Jen Leahey runs the program.
She guides the group (you can also do it individually, but I have to say, hearing other people’s perceptions
about what was happening deepened the experience for me considerably) in tuning in to both the horses’
energies and their own. “Horses are very sensitive—they pick up on your intention,” she said as we each stood
with our horse, attempting to brush dust from its coat. At the end of the session, you sit in a circle and
verbalize what came up for you: Some people had realizations about their families or their relationships; I
had a lot about work. Throughout the session, I’d been in an amazing groove with my horse; he was just great.
I brushed him to gleaming perfection, which he seemed to appreciate. When I led him around—you walk with the
horses, rather than yanking them around—we felt like a team. But when I tried to get him to lift his foot so I
could polish his hooves, I couldn’t do it. You were supposed to squeeze what seems like the horse’s Achilles
heel (not painful, she assured us) with firmness and intention. Leahey had us try working with one another’s
horses to understand how distinct each horse’s personality is; I tried them all, and not one foot lifted for
me. It was frustrating, but in trying and trying again, I realized something about the way I operate at work:
When I feel someone going in a very strong direction, I tend to let them do their thing, even if it impedes my
progress. Something about experiencing the inability to influence someone—my horse—made me understand a little
more about how to maintain a gentle but strong intention, and continue pushing for what I want. All that from
cleaning up a horse! I did go back to my horse a final time, by the way, and he lifted up his foot for about
two seconds, as if to smilingly say, “You can do it, but you’ve got work to do.”

Photos courtesy of James Baigrie

Photos courtesy of James Baigrie

There are many exercise classes and workout machines, but you’d be crazy not to hike though the spectacular
mountains in this section of the Berkshires. We went on short woodland paths, and we hiked up rocky peaks;
you can’t go wrong if you’re outside. You can go on your own or on guided hikes—and these vary, again, from
semidifficult climbs to Tai Chi walks.

There are cooking courses, tarot readings, yoga, stretching, all manner of classes—all with outstanding
instructors—going all day long. You walk from class to lunch to your room through long, glass-enclosed
corridors that bring you closer to the outdoors (but keep you warm when it’s snowy outside); cozy fireplaces
are dotted throughout, along with loungy sofas and chairs for impromptu relaxation, reading, and general
musing.

Photos courtesy of James Baigrie

But if you do nothing else, do the Avian Adaptations: A Lesson in Resilience course, also taught by Leahey. You
get to meet both hawks and owls, all of them rescues that are either recovering from injuries and later to be
released back into the wild or have injuries that preclude their ever returning to the wild. None of the animals
are trained; they are just their own individual selves, as Leahey explains it, and getting to spend time in
their presence is transformative. “They are special beings,” she said. Oracle, a fluffy barred owl about the
size of a small teakettle, sat happily on Leahey’s forearm as he was introduced to us and seemed to greatly
enjoy our smoothing of his feathers. Most of the birds, Leahey explained, are hit by cars. “Roads serve as
highways for animals, too,” she says. “They’re the quickest, easiest route to get places.” They’re also very
easy to see prey walking along, so both hawks and owls hunt for food along them, and that’s how they end up in
harm’s way. Oracle had broken his wing irreparably, so he was a permanent resident; another rescue, Odin, a hawk who’d
lost an eye (hawks can’t hunt without both eyes) greeted us expectantly by walking right toward us to pick up
his breakfast (dead mice). In contrast, a second barred owl, Homer, more the size of a samovar, was totally not
into people: He sat in a large, apartment-size cage and watched us socialize with Oracle. Leahey explained that
Homer had also lost an eye, which is a less serious injury for owls; they can still hunt. All during his
recovery, he’d avoided people, including Leahey. One day, he’d been well enough to release. “I opened the barn
door and was surprised at how reluctant he was to leave,” Leahey told us. Several weeks later, Leahey was in the
process of moving to a new house. Her husband went to check on the house and called her, in the middle of the
rainstorm. “There’s an owl here on the porch steps, and he doesn’t want to leave,” he said. It was Homer, and
he’d been injured again, this time with a bad infection. “He still doesn’t like people,” laughed Leahey, “except
from afar.” Homer looked out at us, and blinked slowly.

Photo courtesy of James Baigrie

Just as forest bathing or energy work might open your perceptions and make the world seem a little richer, a
little more spacious, spending an hour observing the natural idiosyncrasies of individual animals—not trained to
entertain you, just being either accepting or not so accepting of your presence—is a powerful thing.

Hanging with rescued owls might not be what you think of when you think “spa,” but if you’re ever anywhere near
the Berkshire Mountains, get to Miraval and pencil it in among the amazing yoga classes and glow-inducing
facials—I, for one, will never forget it.