Iceland

There is a lot of sky here.

Expansive skies that hold the drama of ever-changing weather. Clouds pulled and stretched by Arctic winds. Endless light in summer, stars and auroras in winter. A sky that feels impossibly vast against black volcanic rock rising suddenly from the tundra.

Everything seems to emerge here without warning.

Round a bend and a plume of steam rises from the earth. The ground bubbles beneath your feet and the sharp scent of sulphur drifts through the air. Lava fields stretch for miles before giving way to bright blue geothermal pools. Iceland doesn't really feel real. It feels ancient. Alive.

We came here to explore the possibility of bringing a Bluespaces retreat to Iceland. To understand the landscape. To see whether it held the kind of spaces that invite people to slow down, soften and reconnect.

It did.

We found geothermal lagoons where warm water meets cool air. Saunas with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out across fjords and mountains. Thunderous waterfalls carving through deep gorges. Quiet retreat centres tucked away from the noise of everyday life.

For me, Iceland feels like a natural home for a Bluespaces retreat.

It is impossible to spend time here without sensing that the earth is still creating itself. The ground breathes. Geysers build quietly before erupting into the sky. Rivers carve new paths. Volcanoes reshape entire landscapes. Nothing here feels fixed.

Perhaps that's why it feels so hopeful.

The landscape is a constant reminder that change is not only possible, but natural. That we, too, are landscapes shaped over time. By pressure. By seasons. By loss. By joy. We are always becoming.

I've always loved the combination of cold air and deep warmth. Stepping from icy wind into a geothermal pool. Sitting in a sauna before plunging back outside. Gathering around a roaring fire after a day spent exploring wild places.

These moments ask something different of us. They invite us back into our bodies. Into our senses. Into conversation. Into stillness.

I think we've forgotten how much humans need spaces like these.

Places to gather without rushing. To share stories. To laugh. To sit quietly together. To dream about what comes next.

Perhaps that's why Iceland feels so special.

It reminds us that beneath all the roles we play and the lives we've carefully constructed, we're still part of something much older. Something wilder. Something that knows how to change.

If that speaks to something in you, we'd love to share it with you.

Bluespaces Iceland Retreat — coming in 2028.