When the Nervous System Feels Safe: Lessons from a Marrakech Retreat

Arriving in Marrakech

I was recently incredibly lucky enough to go to Marrakech on a retreat. After I got home, someone I’d been there with sent me a photo of me drumming in the desert, and it made me smile. I look blissed out. Possibly feral. Potentially as though someone had slipped something into my mint tea!

They didn’t, as far as I’m aware. I was just very relaxed and very happy.

I hadn’t been abroad for four years. As ridiculous as it may sound, I find holidays challenging. I hate packing. I hate the over‑stimulation and stress of airports. I worry about the food, the people, changing money, and my suitcase getting lost, amongst many other things. Being away from home, my sanctuary, is stressful.

But this retreat was organised by someone I already trusted, having attended his events at the beautiful Sculpture by the Lakes. And even for someone like me, who is a big fan of autumn and winter, by February I’ve usually had enough of the dark days, so the added bonus of winter sun was irresistible.

Disconnecting to Reconnect

We were advised to leave our phones alone, which I did. The worst part for me was not being able to do my Wordle, Quordle, Octordle, Waffle, or Connections puzzles every day!

There was no TV, no news, just sun, early morning meditation, yin yoga, fire ceremonies where we burnt the things we wanted to let go of written on pieces of paper, cacao ceremonies, and “sharing circles”. Two words that would normally make me want the ground to swallow me up and never see the light of day again.

But it was deeply healing: to be seen and heard in a group, with no one judging, criticising, or trying to fix me. And it wasn’t part of a course or training where I felt I had to impress anyone or be a certain way. It was simply space being held safely for us to be ourselves.

There were also sound baths (sometimes with foot massages - a whole other level of sound bath!), hammam experiences (more gentle and less intrusive than I’d been led to believe - I felt like a little baby being washed again), massages, and nourishing food with no washing up to do after.

Perhaps most importantly, the facilitators held the space clearly and safely, with strong boundaries that allowed everyone to relax. The group was full of like‑minded people who were also willing to show their true selves.

Letting Go in the Desert

One evening, we went to the desert. It wasn’t quite as expected - we ended up on the rocky outskirts among other tourists. It was loud and smelly, and I couldn’t bear seeing the animals being treated as they were.

I had brought a stone from home, given to me by my therapist, to represent all I had been carrying that wasn’t mine. The idea was to throw it into the middle of nowhere and leave it behind.

Which I did. It wasn’t how I’d imagined it, (i.e. in the middle of a wide expanse of empty and open sandy desert), but it was good enough.

HSPs often absorb what others can’t express, feelings can get split off and projected onto us by family, friends, teachers, or society and we internalise them - basically I wanted to let go of all the crap I’d unwittingly absorbed over the last 54 years!

Then came the drumming. I have never really drummed before, and I expect I sounded terrible to a professional drummer, but I loved it.

There was no self‑consciousness. No inner critic telling me I was too quiet, too sensitive, too intense, too different, or not doing it right.

Well… only a little bit.

Mostly, I just felt present, free and alive.

When Safety Changes Everything

If you’re someone who feels easily overwhelmed, who absorbs the emotions of others, or who spends a lot of energy managing your inner critic, this kind of nervous‑system safety can feel rare.

Many of the people I work with describe longing for a place where they don’t have to explain themselves, perform, or hold everything together -a space where they can simply be.

Bringing the Retreat Home

One of the things the retreat reminded me of is how quickly creativity and play return when our nervous systems feel safe.

Since returning home, I’ve been experimenting with keeping that feeling alive: no TV until evening, my phone on silent, responding to messages intentionally, gentle starts to the day, my own cacao ceremonies… maybe even buying a drum one day.

It’s not the same as our Morocco bubble, but there are small ways to help yourself feel safe, spacious, and alive without becoming over‑frazzled, wherever you are.

I also got rather attached to some stripy spoons that were ever‑present at mealtimes and in the medina. I bought some to bring home, and they make me smile every morning when I use them to remove my teabag or stir my cacao.

Little reminders, or glimmers, like this can anchor joy in the everyday.

Holding Space in Therapy

In the therapy room, I aim to offer the same sense of containment and safety.

By holding space where clients can be fully seen and heard, without judgment, pressure, or the need to be fixed, I support nervous systems to settle. In that kind of environment, insights, expression, and even play can begin to emerge naturally.

Feeling safe, being able to express ourselves fully, and reconnecting with parts of ourselves, perhaps our inner children, that have been silenced is possible, even in the midst of everyday life.

If reading this resonates with you, if you’ve ever longed for a space where you can truly be seen, heard, and feel safe in your own skin, I offer one‑to‑one therapy sessions designed to create exactly that kind of environment.

You’re very welcome to get in touch for an initial conversation to see whether working together might feel right. There’s no obligation, just a chance to be met with care, curiosity, and respect. I’d be honoured to hold that space for you.

Sessions are available in Castle Cary and online or over the phone