By Kristen Oliveri
For years, I’ve written about wellness, longevity and the idea that health is becoming one of the most important ways we think about wealth. This year, for my birthday, I decided it was time to put some of that thinking into practice. I gave myself time, most importantly, with my husband. Time to slow down. Time to move without pushing myself to the limit. Time to eat well, walk, talk and simply be. I also gave myself permission to make space for grief and to spend some time looking for answers to health questions I’ve been carrying for a while.
That’s how we ended up at Canyon Ranch in Lenox, Massachusetts. I had spent time writing about Canyon Ranch and learning about the brand’s evolving work with families and family offices, particularly as it expands in Texas Hill Country, but I had never experienced Canyon Ranch for myself.
My husband, Phil, and I were also long overdue for a trip without our kids. Lenox was close enough to home to make a few days away manageable, and a birthday trip during leaf-peeping season sounded pretty fantastic to me.
We arrived just as the leaves were beginning to change. Canyon Ranch Lenox is set around Bellefontaine, a Gilded Age mansion built by the Foster family, and the property has an almost campus-like quality to it. You move between buildings for classes, meals, appointments and treatments, and within a day or so you begin recognizing the same guests and staff along the way. And because fall is my favorite season, there was something about arriving at that exact moment that made the entire place feel a little magical.
But I also knew this trip needed to be about more than my birthday. Phil and I have dealt with a lot of grief this year. Life kept moving, as it tends to do, but we hadn’t really had the opportunity to stop together. I wanted us to have time to sit, talk and dream again. To remember the bond between the two of us that existed before kids and schedules and careers and all of the responsibilities that fill our days. After the year we’d had, we needed a powerful pause.
Some of my favorite moments at Canyon Ranch weren’t scheduled at all. We walked everywhere we could, even when there was an easier way to get from one activity to another. We joined the morning walks and found ourselves chatting with other guests and staff. The property was social without ever feeling overwhelming. Conversations happened naturally, and there were plenty of opportunities to meet someone new without feeling like you were at an organized networking event. I started to understand the idea of movement as medicine differently, too. I’ve always exercised, but there’s a difference between exercising because you think you should and moving because it makes your body feel better. We walked, stretched, took classes and spent as much time outside as we could. There was no pressure to exhaust ourselves for the day to somehow “count.”
I also came to Canyon Ranch with a more personal goal. I’ve been dealing with health issues and chronic inflammation for some time without really understanding the root cause. Over the years, I’ve experimented with different diets, vitamins and supplement regimens, but I still haven’t gotten the answers I’m looking for. I wanted to spend time with a physician, have bloodwork done and start thinking more methodically about what I should investigate next. I certainly didn’t expect to solve everything during one trip, and I didn’t, but there was something reassuring about setting aside dedicated time to pay attention to my health instead of continually fitting it around everything else. So often we say our health is a priority while simultaneously making it the thing we’ll get to when we have time. This was an opportunity to actually make the time.
I was also pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the food program. The portions were smaller than what we’re accustomed to seeing at many restaurants, but they were satisfying and filling. Meals focused on fresh fruits and vegetables, clean proteins and food that left me feeling fueled rather than weighed down.
One of my favorite parts was much simpler: having fresh juices and teas readily available throughout the day. I was constantly drinking something—water, tea, fresh juice, apple cider vinegar or ginger shots—and I noticed a difference. I felt incredibly hydrated, wasn’t experiencing the same afternoon crashes I’ve struggled with in the past and wasn’t reaching for sugar in the way I sometimes do at home. Nothing about it felt like deprivation. It reminded me how good I can feel when I consistently give my body some of the basics it needs.
And of course, I happily embraced the spa. My love of massage and bodywork knows no bounds, so I spent plenty of time utilizing the sauna, steam room, hot and cold plunges and hot tubs. I had a lymphatic drainage treatment and another massage that focused on the areas where I carry the most tension, particularly the seemingly permanent knots in my shoulders. I loved the treatments, but the most powerful part of the trip ended up having very little to do with any of that.
Phil and I scheduled grief and spirituality counseling together. He was hesitant at first, but by the time we walked out, we both felt lighter. Our guide suggested a ritual that sounded incredibly simple. If we were carrying anger, resentment or unresolved feelings toward loved ones who had died, we could write those grievances down, read through them and then take the papers to the fire pits.
So, we did.
We sat with some of the things we’d been carrying and, as we exhaled, burned the pages. It was remarkably cathartic. There was something about physically watching those words disappear that allowed me to release some of what I had been holding onto. Just as meaningful was hearing what Phil was carrying and letting him hear the same from me. Grief can be incredibly isolating, even within a marriage. You can experience loss alongside someone and still process it completely differently. Having the space to talk about that helped us understand how we could better show up for each other when those harder moments inevitably return.
The Canyon Ranch experience was incredible while we were there, but what fascinated me even more was how I felt once I came home. I didn’t return determined to completely reinvent my life or with a punishing new routine I suddenly needed to follow. If anything, I came home thinking more about the basics: good food, movement, sleep, water, nature, conversation, connection and paying attention to what my body is telling me. I thought about making space for the things emotionally that we sometimes would rather push aside. And I thought a lot about time.
I talk often through Wealth Reimagined about expanding our definition of wealth beyond financial capital. It’s easy to talk about health, relationships and time as forms of wealth in the abstract. This trip made those ideas feel much more personal.
For my birthday this year, I could have bought myself something. Instead, I gave myself a few days with my husband. I gave myself permission to slow down, make space for grief and start looking more seriously for answers about my health. More than anything, I came home realizing that perhaps one of the greatest luxuries we can give ourselves is the ability to pause long enough to take care of the life we’ve worked so hard to build.