I recently woke up in the middle of the night with a realization (the reason why will follow): unfortunately, we all have someone we know and even love who is recovering from something devastating.
Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, illness, divorce, or other trauma, we want to do more than “thoughts and prayers.”
Carmel Retreats, I’ve learned the hard way, is more than a place for vacations. It’s also a refuge that soothes, nourishes and opens the possibility of becoming whole again.
You see, just before Covid-19 descended on the world, I was diagnosed with cancer that had spread to my lymphatic system.
The months of aggressive radiation treatments and multiple surgeries, the terror of leaving my seven-year-old twin boys alone in the world, plus episodes of screaming pain gutted me.
Miraculously, I’m now cancer free. I credit my love for my sons, the support of treasured friends, my medical team, grace, and even Carmel Retreats for saving my life.
During my illness, I spent a great deal of time at the cottages. Even when I was in pain, it was comforting to dig holes and plant trees and shrubs in the gardens (and foresee myself staying alive to watch them grow).
I walked barefoot on the beach, feeling the sand yield under each step as the waves thundered. I filled my lungs with cool, briny air scrubbed clean by eight-thousand miles of the Pacific Ocean.
I paid attention to birds calling to each other, Monarch butterflies fluttering around eucalyptus trees, and the mixed scents of pines and damp earth.
I immersed myself in life. And felt hope.
You may remember when I first saw the cottages in 2013, they’d been owned by Eliza Yocum and her descendants since the day they were built in 1923. For nearly 100 years, Eliza and her descendants raised their families, worked, and delighted in their Carmel home and community.
From the moment I stepped through the front door of the main cottage, I felt something special. The power of it led me to make an offer on the spot.
I now realize what I’d sensed was what a friend calls “a patina of love.”
I know this sounds oh-so California, and your eyes may be rolling right now.
Yet I’ve learned, and perhaps you have too, that some particular spots on our planet hold magic. Carmel and the cottages, I believe, are among those rare spots—a place where the impossible becomes possible.
Since my recovery, I’ve doubled down on my guests’ creature comforts and small luxuries that bring pleasure—and serenity. I have a convert’s new appreciation for how a warm mug feels in the hand, the buttery silkiness of French-milled bath soap, the soft welcome of a cozy robe, a collection of movies filmed in Carmel, a playlist with sounds of nature, and restaurant meals delivered when you want to stay home.
My ardent wish is that no one you love experiences a devastating life event. Yet, if you know someone who needs a soothing respite and is ready for a new beginning, it would be my honor to welcome them to Carmel Retreats.
It worked for me.