On a bright November afternoon at Euphoria Retreat on the Peloponnese peninsula, I find myself curled in the fetal position, my body supported by the cool wood floor. It's my first time trying somatic meditation, a practice that redirects one's attention away from the chatter of the mind and toward bodily sensations. Guiding me is Mary Vandourou, a spiritual instructor whose passionate demeanor belies her petite stature. She invites me to imagine the sensation of weightlessness. “We are born into water,” she says. “This is the beginning of our journey.”
I rise slowly, rolling my neck, stretching my arms and legs, wiggling my fingers and toes. Eyes closed, I focus on Vandourou's feathery voice as she enumerates the qualities of the water-leader archetype. “She's always in the flow and uses the flow to benefit her cause.” But that's the challenge; going with the flow has never come easily to me.
This had become clear over the last year. After a recent promotion, I grappled with insecurities about my leadership style, questioning whether I was navigating the daily dichotomies of the workplace—offering support while fostering independence, maintaining structure while encouraging evolution—the “right” way. [Editor's note: The author works at Condé Nast, the company that owns Condé Nast Traveler.] Factor in my chronic need for approval, and I can wind up in a spiral of overthinking. Did I convey that gently enough? Was I also firm and direct?
Seeking the tools and space to recalibrate, I turned to Euphoria, a spa resort focused on holistic healing. Its location, tucked away in the ancient town of Mystras, was highly intentional, says founder Marina Efraimoglou, who, along with Vandourou, leads a retreat focused on women's leadership and empowerment. The forest surrounding Euphoria ascends toward the mythical Mount Taygetus. Once upon a time, women harnessed its energy for healing—an enchanting detail that captures the magic woven into the Euphoria experience.
The fragrance of a lush orange grove welcomes me upon arrival. I'm delighted to discover that my room, adorned with rich Byzantine-inspired tapestries, has a panoramic view overlooking Sparta. After settling in, I make my way to the restaurant, where I get to know the women—an environmentalist, a marketer, an NGO founder—I would be spending the next four days with. After a “drama therapy” icebreaker that involves improvising scenes from Antigone, we bond quickly.
Our time is spent largely within the resort, an architectural marvel with a spiral staircase, monastic arches, a hammam, and a pool with spherical stone walls. But the real work takes place in the yoga room on the third floor. It was there, nestled into plush floor cushions, that Efraimoglou introduces us to Euphoria's Methodos, an interpretation of the Five Elements theory. This centuries-old idea, found in both traditional Chinese medicine and ancient Greek philosophy, uses the fundamental elements of water, wood, fire, earth, and metal to better understand ourselves and how we move through the world. The elements correlate with the seasons, life phases, bodily organs, and, according to Methodos, leadership qualities: Water for patience, wood for drive, fire for spirit, earth for pragmatism, and metal for harmony and justice.
We use somatic meditation to physically experience the elements and identify our leadership archetype. My impatience quickly reveals that I'm not a water leader. But when the tranquil backdrop of soothing whale sounds shifts to a heartbeat-like drum, my posture straightens, and I confidently march to the beat with an innate sense of power and purpose. “After winter comes the life force of spring,” says Vandourou. “It's the season of wood.”
We cycle through the elements just like this. For fire, I shimmy my shoulders with the same abandon I did during my clubbing days. Our group dances together, twirling and dipping one another. Transitioning to metal, I sprawl on the floor like a starfish and channel the emotions (grief, impatience, fear) I most struggle to manage, envisioning them floating into the distance. It's fun—enlightening even.
Still, nothing feels as transcendent as embodying the wood archetype. Discovering that the emotion most closely linked with wood is anger was disheartening, but Effaimoglou, a fellow wood leader, reassures me that the element's strength lies in transforming anger into drive, kindness, and generosity. She likens wood types to seeds planted in winter, compelled to surface when the sun returns. This is wood in its most balanced state—overcoming obstacles with flexibility, outsmarting challenges with cleverness, and pushing through with sheer determination.
During a walk in the forest near the end of the retreat, I'm captivated by the towering trees, which appear to connect earth and sky. The head senior therapist tells us that, according to the ancient Greeks, cypresses symbolize resilience. My gaze travels down an elongated tree trunk, and I realize that my growth is defined by relishing change, not resisting it.
Little did I know how much change awaited me back in New York: Within days of touching down, I was given an opportunity to oversee a sizable business opportunity with a growing team. But things feel different now; I am acutely aware that change is the only constant. Knowing I have the tools to weather it has brought me the calm and confidence I'd been searching for. With the optimism of a seedling preparing to sprout, I whisper a promise to myself: Keep growing.
This article appeared in the March 2024 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Subscribe to the magazine here.
