Do You Need Wellness, or a Tiny Taste of Hell?

Okay so, right off the bat, "hell" is a slight exaggeration.

But I just spent seven days on a charity cattle drive in Outback Queensland. Up to 10 hours a day on horseback. No showers for most of it. Wet wipes in a tiny camp cube. Three degrees, swag-swaddled nights. Wind, heat and cold all at once and bucket loads of dust. Stampeding cattle, and a grasshopper situation I’m still recovering from.

Let’s just say, I forewent some of the modern comforts I’m accustomed to.

But what’s funny is... I've never felt better coming off a "retreat" in my life. People tell me I'm glowing. Beaming, even.

The global wellness retreat market is worth around $250 billion and growing. Everywhere you look there's a new offering - cold plunges, sound baths, digital detoxes, luxury eco-lodges with organic everything. Each is designed to offer you the epitome of comfort as the key to relaxation, and in hand, “wellness.” 

This got me thinking - not about whether wellness retreats work, but about what we're actually trying to get out of them, and whether a little discomfort might be the ticket to long-term benefit.

What Do You Need Right Now?

Sometimes you need rest. Genuine, do-nothing, stare-at-the-ceiling rest. And a beautiful resort that takes care of everything is exactly right for that. No argument from me. I’ve gladly taken part in more than a few.

But sometimes what you need isn't comfort. Sometimes you need to be genuinely disrupted: To feel more than a bit uncomfortable, take yourself out of the knowns, strip back modern comforts to return to the basics, rise and fall with the natural rhythms of the world, and come out the other side knowing something about yourself you didn't know before.

That's a different ask, and it’s something comfort can't deliver, no matter how high the thread count.

Tiny Taste of Hell = Massive Heat Experience 

What the cattle drive gave me was what we'd call in vertical development a heat experience: One of the key ingredients to the kind of growth that changes your worldview, not just what you know.

A heat experience is something genuinely difficult that generates real edge emotions - intense, uncomfortable feelings like anxiety, fear, confusion, that provide a platform for a turning point; a transformation.

On Day 1, I was terrified. I had no idea what was coming, no escape from the elements, no routine I could lean on. The only things I could rely on were my horse-riding experience, my own sense of grit, and that I was in the hands of extremely capable professionals. By Day 4, I was lying in my swag staring at the stars feeling deliriously happy. This shift happened because I wasn’t trying to escape a feeling, I was going through something.

The other two ingredients to vertica l growth matter just as much: 

A cohort - the six or seven of us droving together, the locals, the campfire conversations offering perspectives I'd never encounter in my normal week. 

And reflective practice - turning experience into insight rather than just a good story.

The insight here? When we experience profound experiences that catalyse growth and change the way we see the world, we are more likely to change how we approach the day-to-day. This is where wellness is built for the long term.

What Really Counts

It’s not a case of either or. Both wellness retreats and heat experiences have their place. Both create conditions for a felt sense of presence and aliveness that is hard to build into our busy routines.

Whether it's a cattle drive or a luxury retreat, what really counts is: what are you going to do when you get home?

Returning from a retreat only to recreate the exact same patterns isn't a reset. It's a momentary escape. True wellness is found by intentionally crafting the conditions to thrive everyday. It cannot be built in fleeting moments. 

The value is in what you transfer. That slower pace, the presence, the thing you noticed about yourself when the noise and busy-ness of everyday wasn’t there. How can you take it with you? 

Before you book your next getaway, it's worth asking: what do I actually need? 

Rest, or disruption? 

A relaxing breather, or a tiny taste of hell? 

And whatever I get out of it, how am I going to bring it home?

Thanks to the Outback Cattle Drive for letting me take part! It was the most transformative experience, and I've been raving about it ever since I got back.

To anyone who has the chance to participate, I urge you to give it a go! You can still donate to the cause here: https://outbackcattledrive.au/