Celebrating the joy of living with Advivum Journeys in France
Niki Natarajan reviews Joie de Vivre, a transformational retreat run by Advivum Journeys in Provence, where she finds her groove, her five senses and joy in everyday moments
The pandemic knocked many of us sideways. Survival became the name of the game and I found myself in the role of carer and au pair on top of an already unpredictable freelance life. Powered by coffee and cortisol, adrenaline gave me a false sense of aliveness. Four house moves and a funeral later, when ‘normal’ resumed, I crashed. Seemingly stuck by circumstance and, uncharacteristically, by attitude, nothing inspired me. My passions extinguished under an interminable to do list. Grief? Likely. Anhedonia? Possibly.
This veil of existential exhaustion, which like a Dementor from Harry Potter had sucked away my raison d'être, was profoundly disconcerting. Historically, unscripted solo adventures have revived me but sensing that a lack of human connection (and coherent conversation) was gnawing at my spirit, I signed up for Tania Carriere's Joie de Vivre retreat in Provence. More aptly described as an epiphany alchemist than a life coach, Tania Carrière has an extraordinary talent of catalysing inner change by harnessing the traditions of her inspirationally-located retreats.
I craved being taken care of. Being heard. Being seen. Delicious food. But most importantly, time with people who, like me, were ready for that <em>je ne sais quoi. Sovoilà, I was ensconced in Mas Edem, a vineyard near the historic French village of Goult, with eight other women, supported by Tania and her incredible team, all ready to see la vie en rose again. From the first gathering in the library of the luxury Provençal farmhouse examining quizzically the eclectic goodies in our gift bags, it was clear this Joie de Vivre retreat was going to require our inner detective.
“Protected by stepped olive groves and inspired by the cloudless cerulean sky, we shifted from surviving to thriving as we embodied the art of living life to the fullest”
Retracing my steps back to happy started with picking the name of someone to whom I would bestow random acts of kindness; a week-long dopamine fix for both of us. As a giver, finding ways to surprise and spoil my protégé came naturally, but I struggled with receiving the thoughtful notes, actions and gifts directed towards me. At our first apéro, as we toasted old and new friendships, we were given the daily task of writing down, and celebrating over supper, three joy-giving moments that happened. But how do you measure a day well lived?
While I am no stranger to gratitude—the heart of the Buddhist’s philosophy to living a fulfilling life—when Tania talked about it being a gateway to joy, I realised that daily celebration is key. The mysterious cork in our gift bag; a reminder to toast three champagne-worthy occasions each day. We welcomed each morning with slow movement, more subtle than yoga and more physical than meditating, designed to revive the curiosity of our physical experience. After coffee and fresh croissants, we gathered to learn concepts such as Tara Brach’s R.A.I.N (Recognise, Allow, Investigate, Nurture), Dr. Jan Chozen Bays’ Different Types of Hunger or Gary Chapman’s Love Languages that became the basis of the day’s inner quest.
Tania’s warmth, generosity and signature cocktail of thought-provoking pre-retreat workbooks brimming with videos, poems, quotes, and exercises followed by soul-invigorating in-situ coaching, all supported by circles of sisterhood, did the trick. One by one, Tania’s seemingly innocuous exercises often hidden in quintessential French experiences, self-guided hikes, or exploration of Saignon’s medieval ruins, aroused our sense of wonderment. Who knew my inner flirt loves to speak French and that buying tomatoes in Lourmarin’s market could give me such an oxytocin kick?
New rituals turned every day acts into a moment of awe. Lunch, the pinnacle of the Joie de Vivre retreat day, was the perfect example of this. No wolfing of sandwiches, instead our five-course local recipe-inspired lunches joyfully created by Tania’s own chief nourishment officers, were eaten al fresco over two hours with a side of giggles, a generous helping of backstory-free banter, and, for many, a large glass of Mas Edem’s Divino rosé.
Protected by stepped olive groves and inspired by the cloudless cerulean sky, we shifted from surviving to thriving as we embodied the art of living life to the fullest. In an intuitive movement exercise designed to help us trust our inner wisdom to discover answers to the freedom we were seeking, I wobbled on one leg with outstretched arms and an agonised grimace—representing stuck me—then transitioned slowly into a yogi squat as I became unstuck.
During a wine tasting, as our erudite vintner explained how the same grapes were fermented in three separate vats—terracotta, oak and stainless-steel—then blended to create different vintages, Tania asked us to consider applying the same principles to achieve happiness through a work/life blend instead of striving for balance. From the exquisite sweetness of the illicitly picked Syrah grape exploding in my mouth, to the crunching tune that freshly baked baguette sings when it is broken, the week was a spirit-rejuvenating feast for all five senses.
Deep inhales, often lavender scented from the now-harvested fields nearby, soothed my frazzled nervous system, while the engulfing softness of the purple pashmina gifted to us on arrival, was the perfect ‘hug’ as I watched the rays of the rising sun embrace the Luberon valley.
I can’t remember when music and dance disappeared from my life, but their return was like a light had been switched on. Honouring someone each night by dancing to their song of awe and reverence was deeply moving. I can still feel the loving smiles as we swayed to Frank Sinatra crooning Fly Me To The Moon. Laughter flowed like wine at Mas Edem, but under the white washed beams in the privacy of my cosy attic room more than a tear or two fell on the white cotton monogrammed pillow as I acknowledged my overwhelming lack of self-compassion.
After a week of savouring life at an unhurried tempo, the delicate aroma of lavender continues to anchor my joie de vivre rituals. One sniff and I am lying under the gnarled greying branches of ‘my’ olive tree admiring the uniqueness of each silvery-green leaf. And, should my rose-tinted glasses slip, my retreat notebook cover prompts: ‘To Do: Be Happy’.
