The Hoffman Process

Last November, I listened to the latest Rich Roll podcast with Toms Shoes founder, Blake Mycoskie. During the interview, Blake briefly shared his experience on a personal growth retreat called the Hoffman Process. I was intrigued. The past year has been a nightmare in a lot of ways, and has taken a toll on my overall health and wellbeing. Hours of therapy had initiated an inward journey to better understand myself, and this retreat sounded like the perfect opportunity to continue that journey; an ideal time to recenter and rediscover self love. If nothing else, I thought, it would be a week off of work in sunny California!

The Hoffman Institute Foundation is a nonprofit organization that teaches participants how to live from the positive dimensions of their beings, resulting in lives that are more free, open, loving, spontaneous, joyous, creative, balanced and whole. With centers in ten countries, the foundation aims to make the world a better place.

The Hoffman Process, founded by Bob Hoffman in 1967, is a week-long residential and personal growth retreat that helps participants identify negative patterns of thought, behavior and mood that developed unconsciously and were conditioned in childhood. Subsequently, participants learn how to transform these patterns on an emotional, intellectual, physical and spiritual level in order to make significant positive changes in their lives. As a result, participants gain the tools needed to remove habitual ways of thinking and behaving, align with their authentic selves and respond to situations in life from a place of conscious choice.

I signed up almost immediately after hearing about the Process, squeezing into a spot in the late March group. Both anxious and excited, I said goodbye to Tom at PDX on Friday afternoon. On the short flight to Sonoma County Airport, I was awed by the beautiful, lush rolling hills of northern Californian wine country.

White Sulphur Springs, the historic location of the California Hoffman Process, sadly burned down in a wildfire last September. The retreat is now held at EarthRise Retreat Center in Petaluma. Nestled in the hills, this forested oasis is a scientific and spiritual hub; an idyllic sanctuary to immerse in the study and practice of personal development and transformation. It is also home to deer, wild turkeys and turkey vultures. Steep trails lead to stunning vistas of the surrounding landscape, a stone labyrinth and garden.

I was stunned by how green the area was--like Portland, but with better weather. Rain the week prior had left the vegetation lush and verdant. It was truly a gift that every day of our retreat was 65 degrees and sunny. And at night, the stars. Needless to say, I was outside every chance I had.

My Hoffman family consisted of three teachers and 21 students. Interestingly, professions were not revealed until the final night, which helped us identify and show up as who we are vs. what we do for work. Our coaches were extraordinary and inspiring, adept in conveying the material and guiding each student through the Process. Every lesson, experience and detail of the program was intentional.

The first few days seemed to last forever, but my perception of time sped up as the week progressed. By the end, I felt strongly bonded to all of my classmates after battling our demons separately but together. It is encouraged to take it easy the weekend following the retreat--before jumping back into the routines and responsibilities of life--in order to continue processing and integrating the work completed during the week.

Out of necessity, our schedule was strict and immersive, leaving no time for technology or distractions. However, the full days were broken up with breaks to stretch our legs and connect with nature. In order to fuel our inward journey, three delicious meals were prepared each day, which were vegan approved and made with love.

I am still unpacking my Hoffman experience, though I can say that it was one of the best things that I have done for myself. Humans are imperfect beings, but it is helpful for me to understand my negative patterns--especially the ones that cause friction in my life; awareness is half the battle. I now have the ability to transform these patterns into ones that will better serve me in future situations. It is an ongoing self-care practice that I aim to continue with humility, gratitude and patience. As a result of the Hoffman Process, I feel more present, confident, spiritual, free and loving. I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with myself, and recommend the Process to open-minded individuals that are seeking change, freedom and love.

 

The California Coast

In an effort to escape the rainy winter doldrums, Tom and I planned a short road trip at the beginning of March. The idea was to fly to LA and drive up the California coast, along Highways 1 and 101. Tom went to college in southern California and has driven up the coast several times, whereas I am less familiar with the state, especially south of San Fransisco. 

March 4 - 7

Day 1: Malibu

Tom and I grabbed our face masks and flew from PDX on Thursday, for a quick two-hour flight to Burbank (just north of LA). We landed around noon, and picked up our rental car--a Kia Forte with excellent gas mileage. 

Our first item on the agenda, which was the main inspiration behind the road trip, was to collect a large painting from Tom's grandma in Glendale. After packing it safely in the car, we headed to the coast, soaking in the Malibu sun and heat. I instantly fell in love with southern Californian weather at Malibu Lagoon State Beach. The Pacific Ocean was chilly, but the sea air was perfect. I felt jealous of the surfers and cyclists who enjoy this weather year-round... next home maybe? 

That evening, Tom and I treated ourselves (courtesy of my dad's hotel discount) to a night at the Ritz Carlton in Santa Barbara. The beautiful resort is tucked into a hillside overlooking the ocean. 

Day 2: Santa Barbara

Since we arrived late the night before, Tom and I took our time exploring the resort and beach Friday morning; another lovely weather forecast with few people around (likely related to the time of year and pandemic).

I would like to spend more time in Santa Barbara in the future, but because of our short timeline, we packed up the car and continued north. A few hours later, we stopped to stretch our legs and grab a bite to eat in Pismo Beach--one of my many cute beach towns on our route.

We were unable to drive through Big Sur due to a recent mudslide, but I would like to visit on a future trip. Instead, we stopped for breaks in Monterrey and Santa Cruz.

We started feeling tired in central California, shortly after driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, so we found a place to stay just north of San Francisco in Bodega.

Day 3: Redwoods

Tom and I woke up on Saturday to a crisp morning in Bodega Bay. I missed the heat, but the sun felt good. We kicked off the day with an easy 3-mile hike to Stump Beach Cove in Salt Point State Park. The level trail crosses grassy bluffs along a jagged shoreline; a great way to get our energy up for a long drive day.

Afterwards, we continued up the coast to northern California, stopping for lunch in the small town of Mendocino. The landscape slowly began to feel more like Oregon as we entered the redwood forests. The Avenue of the Giants is a scenic highway that winds through Humboldt Redwoods State Park. The trees that grow along the Redwood Highway are Coastal redwoods (sequoia sempervirens). They are the tallest living things on our planet, reaching up to 350' high and 18' across. These giants were big enough for us to literally drive through!

 

Exhausted after night fall, we crashed in Crescent City.

Day 4: Medford

It would have been fun to complete the road trip along the Oregon coastline, but we wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to see Tom's good friends in southern Oregon. So we set off on Sunday morning, heading inland via Highway 199. This scenic drive is spectacular, winding through the enchanted forests on the Smith River before climbing in the Siskiyou Mountains of southern Oregon.

Tom and I met Mike and Madison for lunch in Medford, happy to spend time together during such a difficult time in history. It was bittersweet to leave them as we finally headed home.

Tom and I enjoyed our short vacation, feeling grateful for the break from work and routine; the days seem much longer when everything is new and exciting. We were blessed with idyllic weather, pleased to get a splash of color on our PNW skin. We drove about 1,300 miles over four days (three nights), which averaged 6-8 hours of car time per day. Next time, I would take a few extra days, and maybe camp instead of stay at hotels. As usual after any trip, I am eager to spend more time in California!

Our New House

After a grueling house hunt, Tom and I moved into a townhome rental in early February. Only a mile and a half from my old apartment, we jumped one neighborhood east to Sunnyside. It would have been fun to explore a new area of town, but we were also content to stay in southeast Portland. Our new home is 1,200 square feet with two bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, an office and a back yard; I am torn between feelings of comfort in spreading out vs. the simplicity that accompanies minimalism.

Living with a significant other is a new experience for both Tom and I, so we are navigating the ups and downs together. So far, it has been wonderful to come home to my love instead of an empty apartment.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Before we even unpacked all of the boxes, a winter storm dumped 6+ inches of snow and ice on Portland. Unlike where I grew up on the East Coast, the city is not equipped with the resources to manage inclement weather, so much of the area was essentially snowed in. Roads were unsafe to drive, sidewalks were too slick to walk and thousands lost power due to fallen trees on power lines, weighed down by the ice. It was not safe to commute to work for several days, so Tom and I spent the snow days settling into the new place and making wintry cocktails. The highlight was being able to snowshoe to Mt. Tabor from our house!

 

According to native Portlanders, snow storms happen, to some degree, roughly once every other year. Contrast to my frustration, everyone seems to simply accept it and enjoy a few days off. I personally felt relieved when the temperature began to rise, slowly melting the snow away. Bring on the spring! 

New Years Edition

At the end of December, my hospital began receiving the long-awaited COVID-19 vaccine. Working first to vaccinate high-risk hospital staff, we subsequently began holding vaccine clinics across town to vaccinate the community. These clinics will continue to run for the next several months as OHSU and other local hospitals work to vaccinate everyone in priority of risk, as directed by the CDC. Currently, two pharmaceutical companies have formulated a two-dose series of the vaccine that has been authorized for emergency use by the FDA. I was hesitant to receive the vaccine so early in the process, but trusted my colleagues who have extensively researched the data. Ultimately, I view the decision as a sacrifice for the cause; a step forward in this health crisis that we have been navigating for the past year. 

Outside of work, I am continuing a variety of therapies to optimize my mental health. "Lost Connections" by Johann Hari has inspired me to reconnect with others and my values through socially distanced hikes, bike rides, and run challenges. On Monday, my friend Diana and I went cross-country skiing at Teacup Lake on Mt. Hood. It was both terrifying and exciting to face one of my greatest fears since my traumatic downhill ski accident almost four years ago. 

As for the future of our country, I am relieved that decency has been restored to the White House, and remain hopeful that new leadership can reunite our society.

This New Years, what if we flipped the focus from self-improvement to self-compassion?