In Part 2 of her series about Miraval in Arizona, television producer and contributing writer Alexandra Gleysteen discovers the concept of mindfulness….and a new definition of wellness.

Miraval is different from your ordinary spa in that it concerns itself with the overall wellness of clients—including catering to the spiritual. It’s not religious by any means, but it’s definitely a place where some people enjoy being guided in the more contemplative and spiritual methods of pursuing wellness.

Practicing mindfulness is the most consistent manifestation of that mission—teaching people to make a conscious choice and disciplined effort to be in the present moment. The belief is that by living mindfully, we expand our ability to experience joy.

It didn’t matter what the activity at Miraval, whether in the yoga studio, the pool, or getting a massage at the spa, you heard the same mantra across the board: Be aware of every breath taken in—and exhaled. Feel the physical sensations of the body in the moment, even if it’s as simple as being aware of what it feels like to have your body sitting on a mat—or analyzing the discomfort of doing another set of sit-ups. If you have discomfort, can you accept it and move through it? Breathe into that part of the body. If your thoughts wander to what you plan to have for lunch or the project sitting on your desk at work, acknowledge it without judgment, let it go, and come back to focusing on your breath.

That’s all fairly standard practice in the world of mindfulness and meditation, which for many people I met at the spa, was really why they came. But at Miraval, there is an additional dimension available. Although some of it is pretty “out there,” I hesitate to call it the “woo-woo factor,” because that trivializes this other array of spiritual or psychological experiences which attract many to Tucson.

Outside of regular fitness programs, there are plenty of unique experiences at Miraval. There are the physical and team challenges, which allow people to confront their fears, build trust, or just have fun. There are sessions with “singing bowls,” in which you re-set your energy by putting a Nepalese brass bowl on top of your head and pinging it with a hammer…sometimes standing in a second giant bowl at the same time, both bowls ringing. The sound is loud and intense, and you can feel the vibrations, which according to ancient medicine, re-balance the chakras. There is even a resident intuitive healer and channeler named Tejpal, who has insight into ways in which people might fulfill their life purpose more effectively—or live more joyfully. (She did convince me to take up kundalini yoga once I got home as a means to quiet my busy mind.)

There is Wyatt Webb, the famous “horse whisperer.” We had done a story on him years ago at NBC, and at the time I was sorry I had to send another producer in my place to shoot the segment. So I was determined to meet him on this visit and signed up for a session called “It’s Not About the Horse.” Wyatt looks like the kindest cowboy you’ll ever meet, a giant man with twinkling eyes. His take is that the way people approach a horse is the way they approach everything in life. He illustrates this by asking people to do a simple task: clean the hoof of a horse. It turns out, horses sense fear and anxiety, and until you can get those out of your system, they won’t trust you to pick up their hoof.

It sounds crazy, but I watched as all ten of us learned something concrete about how fear can doom you to failure from the get-go. (In this case people mostly feared failing at a task, especially in public, but there were some more profound revelations about not knowing how to ask for help, and the need to set a clear intention in order to attain success.) With the exception of one woman who raised Arabian horses, none of us were able to pick up the horse’s hoof on the first try. But Wyatt talked us through the process, and got to the heart of the fear. It was a profound illustration about how a lack of confidence can be a detriment.

But of the more “cutting edge” sessions I got to experience, the most dramatic–bar none–was something called “Spirit Flight and Samadi Healing Ceremony.” It’s performed by a staff member named Tim Frank, who carries the unusual credentials of bona fide medical doctor and trained massage therapist, who is also a natural healer. Although not Native American himself, he was mentored and taught in native healing practices by an adopted grandfather, a Cherokee Medicine Man whose name is invoked often by Tim as he explains his work. When the Miraval “regulars” who come back year after year heard I was going to do Spirit Flight, they all oohed and aahed and told me about their sessions with Tim. Some described shifts in energy that were quite profound. Some spoke of using the ceremony to let go of painful issues or to help heal their PTSD. I was curious, for sure.

The first part of the session involved talking with Tim about issues going on in my life, and with unemployment looming, we had good stuff to work with. We identified the areas around which we would “set the intention for transformation,” guided by our energy and that of our “spiritual higher powers.”

The ceremony began with an amazing performance —part chanting, part drumming, part flute playing. Tim entered a trance of sorts, invoking the spiritual powers to help guide him and heal me. He burned sage and at one point poured what looked like liquid fire on himself as a cleansing ritual. I couldn’t quite figure out my take on it all, other than to ask myself to suspend my natural cynicism and just go with the flow. It was definitely a ritual—part spa treatment, part therapy, part exorcism. As Tim massaged me, he called out to the spirits for “Sandy to choose life. Choose love. Choose possibility.” Hmmm.

Regardless of the dramatic performance, the effectiveness of the physical service was real. As a trained physical massage therapist and acupuncturist, Tim has real knowledge of the body and how to help release pain. I was given hot stones to hold in my hands, sandbags on my eyes, hot towels on my body. After all the massage and acupuncture, there was no way not to feel relaxed and cared for.

It’s billed as a “life changing Shamanic ceremony of purification and healing.” It’s also checking account balance-changing, and the fact that clients are willing to shell out $425 for the 110-minute session speaks volumes about how highly some people value the experience. It wasn’t life changing for me, (or at least not that I could identify,) but it was certainly intriguing and left me —exhausted and feeling strangely tender toward the world. There was no doubt that I was going to reign in my natural skepticism in order to complete the ceremony as instructed—by myself in water—asking the spirits for guidance as I let go of the past and moved into the future. So I looked through the canopy of trees above the hot tub, which I blissfully had to myself, and let those spirits know I would welcome whatever help they had to offer. With my life in flux, I am just hedging my bets in case those spirits now have me on their radar. Stay tuned!

Tomorrow, in Part 3 of her Miraval Series, Gleysteen succumbs to true indulgence.

Text and Images by Alexandra Gleysteen for PeterGreenberg.com