JOANNA CAREW

I arrived at the Gaylord Rockies hotel, Denver, Colorado, with that tingly sense of anticipation you get before a big adventure. This was it: a full week immersed in a Dr Joe Dispenza retreat. I’d listened to his podcasts, engaged in daily meditation, and now I was here, in the thick of it and ready to go.

The retreat registration was smooth, despite nearly 2,000 of us being ushered through, it was a military-grade operation led by cheerful, clearly well-drilled volunteers. We were wrist-banded, welcomed, and later that evening funnelled into the enormous conference ballroom with five vast screens, rows upon rows of chairs, a festival-worthy stage, and energy levels to match.

That first night’s lecture began with a nightclub-style transformation: lights pulsed, music pounded, and a sea of bodies surged to the front, dancing with giddy abandon. Then, when Dr Joe eventually appeared, the crowd erupted as though a rockstar had taken the stage – the man clearly has a following!

The lecture ran for three hours, it was more intense than his podcast fare, but rooted in the same ideas. Neuroscience, energy, and advanced meditation as a tool for personal transformation. Undoubtedly, he’s a charismatic speaker, and the scale of the operation was awe-inspiring, with participants having travelled from 55 countries.

Still, something niggled.

The next morning, we met at 6am sharp, again the disciples started their nightclub-style warm-up, and rapturous greeting of Dr Joe, then we settled into another lecture before our first meditation began. The meditation was long – nearly two hours – and deeply, deeply strange. Dr Joe chanted through most of it, guiding us to “feel the energy” as music and swirling psychedelic visuals filled the room. Throughout, volunteers in white baseball caps patrolled the aisles, watching for rule breakers and overly enthusiastic participants who might require removal. (Yes, really.)

When it ended, I wasn’t sure if I’d been meditating or hypnotised, either way, I emerged dazed and unsettled.

And things only escalated from there.

Dr Joe focused heavily on physical healing; he played and regaled stories of people reversing paralysis, regrowing organs, curing cancer. At first, I admired the optimism, but soon it veered into territory I couldn’t reconcile with claims that if your condition wasn’t improving, it was because you didn’t believe hard enough, weren’t committed enough, hadn’t tried enough.

That landed too hard, ethically and morally it jarred. Sure, I could see how people suffering with chronic illness might cling to that hope, but it felt like too heavy a burden to place on their shoulders. By the time we were told we’d soon be doing “coherence healings” to collectively heal members of the audience, I felt I’d wandered into some kind of cult.

At lunch, I didn’t go with the crowd and instead I phoned my sister. She’s always pragmatic and we talked it out, and with her in agreement I made my decision …

I retreated from the retreat.

Alfie had taken the car and was off with friends, so I was left solo but actually, it was perfect. I created my own retreat for one: meditating on my terms, swimming, hitting the gym, doing breathwork, and disappearing into books by the pool. Bliss and a totally, nourishing reset.

After four quiet, grounding nights, Alfie swung by to collect me. We packed the car, cranked up the music, and set off again leaving Colorado behind, and heading north to explore Wyoming, Idaho and Montana.

Sometimes you don’t find what you came for, but if you’re lucky, you find just what you needed.