Our culture doesn’t teach us how to surrender to grief. It is heartbreaking, devastating, and life-changing. Anne knew, intuitively, that she had to go within and tend to the healing that was calling to her. She dedicated herself to telling the stories of her beloved son while bravely doing her own inner work.

With incredible courage, Anne wrote a book filled with heartfelt stories about Nolan, including her powerful journey to Japan to release his ashes, just as he had requested. Now, she is offering a healing retreat to create space for collective healing—for others who are navigating this unspeakable pain.

Anne offers a process and a way through. She is a powerful group facilitator, having led many healing retreats—including Walking Off the War for veterans working to recover from the wounds of combat.

You can trust Anne with your tender heart. She is a woman of deep compassion, forged in the fire of her own grief. Don’t miss this opportunity to walk alongside other brave souls through a journey of profound, heartfelt healing.

Jude Simmons, MA Marriage and Family Therapist

First, I have to thank Bozeman Hot Springs for inviting me into this space. Bozeman Hot Springs has been a personal anchor for me since I first visited Montana State University with my children over five years ago. It was our place to camp, soak, retreat, and recharge. BHS holds a special place in my heart, and I’m so grateful for the opportunity to share it with our retreat participants.

Sharing the things that have supported me over the years creates the foundation for both retreats. In the weeks, months—now years—since I lost my son, I have moved through many different seasons and layers of grief. During the early season, I simply had to keep moving. On my most desperate days, this may have been my strategy to outrun the pain, but on good days, movement was a way to remember all the ski races, bike rides, and mountain and desert adventures I shared with Nolan. And when I was brave enough to be still, I could hear his voice on the wind. Movement was a huge part of my early recovery. Because of this, I have woven many opportunities for participants to move their energy in the physical realm: yoga, walking meditation, breathwork, and plenty of time to wander the BHS campus.

As my healing progressed, writing, artwork, sound, and spiritual exploration became modalities that helped ground me in new ways. Rather than run, I needed to learn how to integrate my senses beyond physical survival. Because of this, I have been deliberate about introducing participants to more mental, emotional, and spiritual approaches—not in any way that is prescriptive, just a gentle offering of what has supported me: writing, soul paintings, sound healing, intuitive healing, prayer, and flowers. Always lots of flowers.

Finally, I have had to learn how to integrate the disparate parts of myself, because healing is not linear—it happens in fits and starts, with setbacks and small steps forward. Learning to meet myself with compassion each day and give myself the support I need has been both the greatest hurdle and the greatest victory of my grieving “practice.” I will share with you some of the most talented practitioners in Bozeman to help you integrate the parts of yourself that might feel quite shattered. Each of them has faced their own losses, so rest assured—you are in good hands.

All of this is carefully wrapped in a special container of private cabins, gourmet meals, and a balanced mix of quiet time and active programming, allowing you to take what you need from the experience.

In the coming days, I’ll be introducing each of our partners. It will be such a pleasure to share them with you, and I am so proud of the amazing circle I have gathered for this special event. We have yet to meet you, but we want you to know: We love you, and we are with you as you walk this winding road.

In the meantime, if you have questions, don’t hesitate to reach out at 970-318-0885 or fall7rise8llc@gmail.com.

The Eagle, in Native American traditions, represents the Great Spirit. Looking back on the past three years, I could not have survived had it not been for my own very deep relationship with the Divine.   Great Spirit, God, Master of the Universe; it matters less to me what I call Him, more that I remember He is there.  In the process of grieving Nolan’s transition, it was the Eagle, literally that would remind me, not only of the presence of God, but of Nolan’s continued presence in my life.  The Eagle would visit me daily, sometimes in multiples, both Golden Eagles and Bald Eagles. There was one day, when I was living on the Flathead Lake writing the manuscript for Fall Seven, Rise Eight.  I stepped out to my front yard to regain my breath, my grounding, and my perspective.  As I turn to look out over the lake, I noticed in my periphery a tremendous Bald flying straight towards me.  Stunned, all I could do was freeze.  Before I could catch my breath, the magnificent creature, perhaps embodied spirit, brushed right pass me, gently brushing my shoulder.   When you are grieving, I think it is typical for us to look desperately for signs.  And yet, this was visit was impossible to deny.

Beyond the spiritual embodiment, the Eagle continues to remind me of the ways we continue to rise up.  I love that the bird has the shape of catching an up draft. It reminds me of the grace of being able to ride the waves, the uplifts as well as the vortexes that drop us on a daily basis.  This is our new reality, and so perhaps instead of resisting, we might simply spread our wings and let life’s circumstances carry us to our next, even if it through the most terrifying storm.

The mountains in the logo represent so many things personally, but also for the work.  I raised my children in the majesty of the mountains; it was our home, our playground, and our church.  The mountains represent where Mother Earth, Gaia, and the maternal energy that picks us back up, after we have fallen, and continues to gently encourage us to climb.  I still love, with a childlike affection, the way the mountains climb up to meet the sky.  I like to think of it as the Divine Mother hugging the Sacred Father.   That place where the earth meets the sky is symbolic of the place where our carnal self courts our own divine self, where our spiritual being enters to have an earthly experience, or simply where heaven comes down to earth, and vice versa.   This is a sacred space, and one that I spent a lot of time in, necessarily, while I made decisions about whether I would stay here on the planet or follow Nolan to where I believe he had gone.

The Japanese symbol roughly represents “Fall Seven, Rise Eight” and more broadly captures the roots of the proverb itself.  It represents Nolan’s love for Japanese culture.  It captures in remembrance, Nolan’s last request to take his ashes to Japan.  While his ashes have been spread by the many friends and family who love him all over the globe, the majority of his remains were carefully delivered to the top of a very wintery landscape on Mt. Tokachidake, the tallest Volcano in Hokkaido, and along the banks Mt. Rishiri Island on the Japan Sea.

I am so grateful to my dear friend, Traci Schalow, who has created the most beautiful artistic assets for my work, helped me to capture big themes.  Thank you.