When a Spa Isn’t A Spa: What Miraval’s Equine Experience Taught Me About Life, Work, and Letting Go
When people think of a spa, they usually think of massages, facials, maybe a steam room or a beautiful pool.
But destination spas — the real ones — have always been something more.
They are places for self-discovery, personal reckoning, and growth. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes unexpectedly. And occasionally… profoundly.
One of the most unusual — and lasting — experiences I’ve ever had at a spa involved no treatments at all.
It involved a horse.
Destination Spas as Spaces for Inner Work
In earlier writing, I’ve talked about spa trips as moments of reset — physical, emotional, even spiritual. And while some people seek that through yoga, meditation, or energy work, others find it through experiences that feel… confronting.
At destination spas, activities like life coaching, astrology, tarot, and symbolic rituals aren’t add-ons. They’re invitations.
An invitation to see yourself more clearly.
Which brings me to one experience that still echoes in my life — personally and professionally — years later.
Miraval’s Signature Experience: It’s Not About The Horse
During my first visit to Miraval Arizona Resort & Spa, one experience sat at the very top of my list:
It’s Not About the Horse — Miraval’s signature equine therapy experience.
Horses have long been used in therapeutic settings, from addiction recovery to work with individuals on the autism spectrum. Their sensitivity, intuition, and responsiveness make them extraordinary mirrors.
And that’s exactly what this experience is about.
Not riding.
Not mastery.
Not control.
Reflection.
“I’ve Got This” (Spoiler: I Didn’t)
It was a quiet time of year, and the group was small — just myself, one other woman, and the guides who would lead us through the experience at Miraval’s ranch.
As the instructions were explained, everything sounded straightforward. Logical. Manageable.
And I remember thinking — I do complex things for a living. I transform organizations. I solve problems. I navigate ambiguity every single day.
I’ve got this.
Except… I didn’t.
When the first exercise began, I failed. Plain and simple.
The other participant moved through it with ease. I didn’t. And I hated that — not just the failing, but the comparison I immediately slipped into, which only made it worse.
At the same time, I was very aware of what was rising — emotion, frustration, tears — and equally aware that I was doing everything I could to keep my composure.
So instead of breaking down, I tried to hold it together.
Instead of letting the emotion move, I tried to contain it.
Which, as it turns out, doesn’t feel very spa-like at all.
The Horse Knows What You’re Carrying
At that point, I retreated into brushing the horse — a grounding, repetitive task — partly to soothe myself and partly to hide. Yes, hide. To buy time to regain my composure.
I brushed him carefully. Thoroughly. Almost obsessively.
And the moment we moved on to the next activity, he rolled happily in the dirt — undoing all of my meticulous effort in seconds.
That, it turns out, was my failing at failing.
The horse knew exactly what he needed — and took care of it instinctively.
The Mirror You Can’t Avoid
The experience continued, and the next phase emphasized a very different way of relating — one that felt far more familiar to me.
I found my footing there. The dynamic itself was more comfortable. More recognizable. More aligned with how I instinctively engage. This is where I shined. Or so I thought.
Horses reflect what we bring into the space — our emotions, our tension, our incongruence. You can mask things from people. You can even mask them from yourself.
But not from the horse.
It wasn’t until the debrief afterward that the deeper meaning began to surface.
What Miraval’s equine experience reveals — without ever spelling it out — is how our internal state shows up in relationship and communication.
You don’t need to believe in the mirror.
You experience it.
And that’s what gives the experience its staying power — long after the ranch, long after the spa, long after the moment itself.
The Lessons That Followed Me Home (And to Work)
after that trip, I shared the experience with my team at work. I even kept a postcard from Miraval — a horse — pinned near my desk.
“If something feels unclear,” I joked, “just point to the horse.”
They probably thought I was a little unhinged.
But the truth is, the lesson stayed with me. I learned to own my part in any communication.
Years later, the horse still reminds me of something essential:
What isn’t aligned will eventually reveal itself.
When is a Spa Not A “Spa”?
When it helps you see yourself more clearly than you expected.
When it holds up a mirror instead of offering an escape.
When the lesson follows you home — and shows up years later, exactly when you need it.
That’s the power of destination spas done well.
Is Miraval’s Equine Experience For You?
This experience isn’t about loving horses.
And it’s definitely not about performance.
It’s for people who are:
- navigating transition
- questioning alignment
- open to self-reflection
- curious about how inner dynamics show up externally
If that resonates, It’s Not About the Horse may be one of the most meaningful “spa” experiences you ever have.
Miraval also offers additional equine programs, including:
- Common Ground: Understanding Barriers to Connection
- An Unforgettable Canvas
- Group Trail Rides
They’re all on my list for a future visit.
Journal Reflection
Where in your life are you trying to manage the surface — instead of listening to what’s being mirrored back to you?
And what would happen if you let yourself see it clearly?
Where This Might Lead
Some spa experiences stay with you long after you leave — not because they were relaxing, but because they revealed something essential.
If you’re drawn to experiences like this and wondering what kind of journey would support you right now, you may enjoy Ask Love to Spa — a personalized exploration of the spa and wellness experiences aligned with where you are in your life.
And if Miraval’s equine experience resonated but travel isn’t in the cards just yet, you might appreciate the book It’s Not About the Horse — a gentle way to explore similar reflections at home.
