Park City Spring Cleanse Yoga Retreat: My Annual May Series

Set an intention with me before we start: the intention is that you read this whole thing instead of skimming, because I get one email a week from someone who skimmed and then showed up to a sound bath with a Celsius. (I love you. We will talk about it.)

Every May for the last nine years I have hosted a two-week spring cleanse and yoga intensive out of my home shala in Upper Jeremy Ranch. It is the thing I look forward to most all year — more than the kids' summer break, more than Sundance, and yes, more than the first powder day of the season, which is saying something because I grew up skiing Killington and that mountain is in my cells.

The series runs May 6 through May 20. We are mid-week one as I post this. I still have three spots open for the back half.

What "Cleanse" Actually Means In My Practice

It does not mean a detox kit. It does not mean cayenne lemonade. It does not mean a tea that makes you afraid to leave the house. My parents were ex-hippies who raised me on a farm in upstate New York eating dandelion greens out of the yard, and even they would side-eye what the wellness industry has done to the word "detox." Your liver is doing the detox. Your liver is on it. Leave your liver alone.

What we do in the May series is intentional eating — seasonal, plant-forward, mostly cooked, mostly warm, prepared together in the shala kitchen three times a week. Daily asana, two practices a day. Sound baths twice a week with a friend of mine who drives up from Heber with a van full of Tibetan bowls. Guided meditation. A lot of silence. Nothing that asks your nervous system to brace.

That's it. That's the whole cleanse. The thing being cleansed is the noise.

The Shala

For anyone new here: my shala is a converted barn on our property in Upper Jeremy Ranch. Jeff built out the floor himself the year Owen was born — he had just left lift maintenance at the Canyons for the banking job and I think he needed something physical to do with his hands on weekends or he was going to lose his mind. The result is a 600-square-foot heated practice space with a south-facing wall of windows that looks straight at the ridge. We fit twelve mats comfortably. I cap registration at ten because I want room for props and room for people to cry, which they do, and which is allowed.

The Schedule

• 6:30 a.m. — Tea on the deck. Silent. Bring a blanket, it is still 38 degrees in May at this elevation.
• 7:00 a.m. — 90-minute slow flow. Hatha-leaning. Long holds. I do not believe in a 6 a.m. power class.
• 9:00 a.m. — Shared breakfast. Always warm. (My mom calls this "hippie porridge" and means it as a compliment.)
• 10:30 a.m. – 4:00 p.m. — Free. Nap. Walk the rail trail. I beg you, do not look at your phone.
• 4:30 p.m. — Restorative practice or sound bath.
• 6:30 p.m. — Shared dinner. Fridays we are silent through dinner.

Who Flies In

This is the part I love. About two-thirds of the May series is East Coast — mostly women I taught when I was still teaching workshops in the Northeast in my late twenties, before I had Hazel. One flies in from Burlington. One drives from Saratoga Springs every other year. Two come together from Boston and stay at the same B&B on Park Ave every time.

If you are flying in and need lodging, I keep a short list — this is the search I usually start people on, filtered for the dates of the series and a 1.5-mile radius from Main Street.

What I Use, And What I Recommend

People always ask me what mat I'm on. I have been on the same Manduka PRO for eleven years. It weighs as much as a toddler. For travel and for students who don't want the commitment of a forever mat, I keep a stack of Manduka eKO Lite mats in the shala — grippier than people expect.

For props I keep a full set of Manduka cork blocks on the prop wall — cork over foam, always, especially in restorative. We also use a lavender eye pillow in every single restorative practice. Not optional.

For the at-home practice I encourage between retreats: a starter set of Tibetan singing bowls for ten minutes of sound at the end of the day, and Palo Santo for clearing the space before practice.

For practice clothing — I teach in a Lululemon Align tank ninety percent of the time, my students wear Beyond Yoga Spacedye, and I keep two pairs of Alo Yoga leggings in rotation for sound bath nights because they are warmer than they look.

Cost & Who This Is For

The two-week series is $1,850 for the full fourteen days, or $1,050 for one week. Lodging not included — I am not a hotel, I am a barn.

It is for you if: you have a regular practice, or you used to have one and want it back, or you are a Park City mom whose nervous system has been in fight-or-flight since the lifts opened in November.

It is not for you if: you want a hot power class, you are looking for a juice cleanse, or you cannot put your phone in a basket for two weeks. The phone basket is, in my opinion, the actual cleanse.

To Register

Email me directly through the contact form. I respond personally, usually within a day, though if you email between 6:30 and 9 a.m. I am on my mat and you will hear back in the afternoon. Three spots left for week two. First-come, first-mat.

Set an intention for the rest of your spring. Listen to your body. And if your body is saying I need to sit in a barn in Jeremy Ranch with eleven women and a bowl of warm oats for two weeks — well. I built the barn for a reason.

See you on the mat. — M.