Just F**k It

I’ve lived in Switzerland as a “Hausfrau” for the last 10 years — somewhat stuck in a role by a culture where women don’t feel the need to apologize for being a “stay-at-home-mom;" where hot lunches are made every day and kids are home each and every Wednesday afternoon, off from school. With no family around to help – yes, I’ve been stuck and my husband has just left me.

No wonder the book “F**k It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way” jumped out at me at the bookstore. I inhaled it one afternoon and upon turning to the final page came across a competition to “Write in 50 words or less why I deserve a “f**k it” week.” So, with a little brilliance and a dollop of self pity, I realized I could be headed to a complimentary holistic retreat in the beautiful Marche countryside in Italy.

Pulling out the stops I vented shamelessly onto the pages of my notebook. I then distilled my tirade into 50 beggarly yet scintillating words and emailed them off. I waited for about a week before saying, “f**k it, I’m going anyway, contest or no contest!”

For someone who felt like she’d been holding her breath for the last 10 years, The Hill That Breathes beckoned. I’d held my breath through childbirth, business dinners and exhausting days. I’d held my breath through my husband’s confession, his moving out and meetings with lawyers. I want to breathe – I want to breathe deeply.

So, I contacted John C. Parkin, the author of “f**k it” and co-owner of “the hill” with his wife Gaia Pollini. The workshop on offer was “The Enlightened bitch/bastard week” The promotional blurb said, “So when you go home, feeling free to be yourself, to do and say what you want, you may well be seen occasionally as a bit of a bitch but at least you’ll know you are an enlightened one.“

Sign me up!

This place is not for the spiritually correct. No positive affirmations will be repeated until any semblance of critical thinking is pounded out of my head. Critical thinking, I gathered from the title of the workshop, is encouraged. Whatever pops into my head or flows forth from my lips is just fine because it came out of bright, beautiful me. Just what a recently separated woman needs.

I’m soon lying in a teepee receiving a Reiki treatment while the energies course through my body; mine, the Reiki practitioner’s and that of a 900 year old tree. I’d spent over an hour in meditation that morning, followed by a fabulous vegetarian meal which led to a tea ceremony. The oolong tea was grown on a tree that has been living a very oolong time in China and was apparently imparting its wisdom of the ages to my recently coffee deprived brain. I was promised transformation – this was a damn good start.

John and Gaia both worked as creatives for an advertising firm in London. They shared a fascination for “therapeutic or alternative stuff” and eventually decided to move to Italy where Gaia is originally from to set up a centre “of some sort." With a feng shui book as their guide, they searched for the following: lots of woods; mainly pines (for the chi); to be on a hill -- not too high (bad chi); to be surrounded by water on three sides and to find land that is a horseshoe shape. For less than the price of their one bedroom apartment in England this is exactly what they found -- 100 beautiful pine-coated acres where they now run “f**k it” weeks as well as yoga and Tai Chi workshops.

Sessions run twice a day in a geodesic dome (shipped from Oregon). In between you can book yourself into a tepee or cabin in the woods for a Reiki, Shiatsu or Ayurvedic massage or swim in the panoramic saltwater pool. Depending on the weather you can either cosy up to a fire or hang in one of the ubiquitous hammocks dotting the property, with a good read. Gaia will sometimes invite you to a tea ceremony or you can take a cooking lesson with Giusy the vegetarian chef. Accommodation is simple and comfortable. It’s an eco-friendly, (“We take our heat from the sun and water from the hill”), honey stone Italian farmhouse and is utterly charming.

As the week came to a close, while hugging John and Gaia good-bye, I confessed: “I hope the changes last."

“They will," says Gaia. “We make sure they do.”

It’s hard to put my finger on what went on at the hill. There was no prescribed agenda; no hand-outs. Yet there was a certain accessibility to their spirituality. Meditation, dancing; dancing, meditation… were interchangeable in the realm of the enlightened bitch/bastard, because it was about doing what felt natural. Music was a complimentary element and a passion of John’s. I’d been cajoled by The Killers, softened by Mozart and mystified by Gorillaz, among others, in a single afternoon.

As we moved our hands slowly in front of our faces then out to the side, we were informed that what we were doing was actually Qigong – we were taught a handful of moves and told by John, “That’s my Chinese take-away” (Brit talk for take-out). Thrown into the bag of the enlightened bitch/bastard are strength exercises that teach the importance of timing and being prepared; lessons in using intention rather than force in our lives; losing judgement and clear communication to achieve desires. It wasn’t an overload of information – and in fact was plain and purely simple.

They cater to those who’ve been working too hard; caring too much and are in search of something that is simply going to improve the quality of their lives. Participants were a sampling of corporate culture, mostly seeking to improve their own effectiveness or just give themselves a good break. For the purist it may seem too quick and easy – but we weren’t being tuned to become masters of anything but self-acceptance.

If you find yourself atop the hill that breathes, have John autograph his book for you. He’ll send you scurrying away for a second while he randomly opens the book to a page – the one the universe has intended just for you.

“I turned randomly to page 82 – it could be for you, enjoy, John,” was inscribed in my copy.

I savour it, especially on the days when I’m, hmm, caring about something just a bit too much. Turning to the designated page, I read the title:

“Say f**k it to being a peaceful person."

Instantly, I let go; I’m back at “The Hill”, and I’m back to me.