Across the UK, farms are transforming from places of production into centres of healing – offering yoga in fields, sound baths in barns, and nature retreats that nurture both people and the land.
“The flow I’ve created for this evening is all about joy and cultivating as much of it as humanly possible,” says yoga teacher Jess Symondson. The setting does feel ideal for fostering bliss. About 40 of us have gathered in a fairy-lit tipi overlooking a soft peach sunset and a field of heritage einkorn wheat on a regenerative farm. A DJ plays mellow, expansive music. We’re about to do a dance-like series of poses before sipping rosé around a fire. “That’s what we’re working toward. That’s our North Star,” she says with a laugh.
Sunset Yoga, DJ & Rosé is one of the most popular offerings at Lopemede Farm in Oxfordshire. And it’s part of a growing movement across the UK. As people seek reconnection with community and the land, and farmers face the economic imperative to diversify, many farms are becoming hubs of healing for locals, travellers and the natural world. They’re hosting a variety of wellbeing events, from sound bath meditations to digital detox retreats to women’s empowerment workshops.
This trend counteracts the decades-long cliche that farmers are constantly trying to keep people off their land. “We flipped that to ‘get on our land’,” Eddie Rixon, who runs Lopemede Farm, said at the 2025 Oxford Real Farming Conference. “We are welcoming people onto the land, and we are seeing the difference it’s making to people’s wellbeing.”
From breakdown to breakthrough
A fourth-generation farmer, Rixon never dreamed people would be doing cow pose on his cattle pasture. Then in 2017, everything his family had built came crashing down. Some of his cows failed a routine tuberculosis test, forcing him to sell the entire herd of 250 pedigree breeding cattle. A week later, his butcher shop burned down in an arson attack. The next day, he found a woman and her dog trampled to death by his cows. Shortly after, his beloved mother died.
Rixon suffered a mental breakdown. His marriage dissolved. He was in a dark place for years. Then a friend suggested he attend a retreat at Embercombe, a rewilding estate in Devon that focuses on inner growth through nature connection. The workshop and subsequent therapy helped Rixon shift his mindset “from egocentric to ecocentric”. He asked himself, “How can I use our farm to help tackle the big crises – the mental health crisis which I’ve gone through, the biodiversity crisis, the climate crisis?”
Now, Rixon is regenerating Lopemede’s historic wildflower meadows and wetland habitat, planting trees and hedges, and creating feeding grounds for threatened bird species. On the farm, he launched an art-themed forest school, a sauna and cold plunge experience, a cafe in a barn and a theatre that presents nature-inspired shows. He started Future Oaks, an organisation aimed at restoring children’s connection to food, farming and nature.
Rixon also teamed up with Jess and Greg Symondson, who were on their own growth journey. Jess grew up on a farm nearby and wanted to work in harmony with the seasons. Greg was searching for a more fulfilling career. “I want to make people happy, and I want to be there to share in that happiness,” he says. “That was the spark that led to what we’re doing now – bringing people together for good times in nature.”
The couple launched Firelight, a wellbeing events business based at Lopemede. They bring lighthearted fun to experiences such as sound bath meditations, men’s and women’s sharing circles, sweat lodge ceremonies, breathwork journeys and alfresco feasts at communal tables.
As Lopemede shows, farms offer fertile ground for wellness entrepreneurship. Fields can double as slightly lumpy yet atmospheric yoga studios. Barns boast amazing acoustics for gong baths. The landscapes offer myriad opportunities to try out concepts and discover what works.
Building community in a barn
About 28km south-west of central London, Emily and Charlie Woodall needed to diversify their family’s tenant farm because growing grain alone couldn’t pay the bills. So they started The Barn KT9, which has incubated a series of wellness-focused ideas.
Emily, a personal trainer, opened a female-focused gym at The Barn KT9 during the pandemic. It now has 260 members and hosts around 60 classes each week, including pregnancy yoga, postnatal Pilates and weightlifting for everyone from teens to seniors. “Having that female environment has been really supportive because it’s built this lovely community,” Emily says. “People who come to the gym go for coffee, lunches, baby showers and each other’s weddings.”
The couple converted a derelict barn into a resonant space for sound bath meditations. Here, mothers bliss out with their babies amid shimmering crystal harps and families are soothed by singing bowls beneath the glow of candles and moonlight. Once a month, a psychotherapist leads “Offload the Motherload”, a sharing circle where mothers can chat about anxiety or burnout. During Barn Hangouts, experts host talks on topics such as switching careers or legal rights regarding maternity leave.
The Barn KT9 has become an unlikely success. Onsite parking is available only for people attending the gym or pre-booked events. Those visiting the cafe in a shipping container in a field or the frequent food truck evenings must walk 20 to 30 minutes from public parking lots or 10 minutes from a bus stop. Yet people welcome the chance for fresh air and exercise. On a Monday morning in August, the cafe bustled with dog walkers and families sipping iced lattes. On a recent Tuesday evening, the food truck sold 140 pizzas in two hours. Their glamping site attracts travellers from as far away as Beijing.
Reimagining an ancient estate
It seems fitting that people are returning to farms for wholesome, healthful activities. In the past, farms served as centres for social life, and agricultural estates hosted harvest festivals and village fetes. At Birling Estate – a 1,800-acre patchwork of grain fields, sheep pastures, vineyards and ancient forest in the Kent Downs National Landscape – Guy Nevill is “reimagining what an estate is in the modern world”, he says. “My vision is a place where people, nature and enterprise flourish in harmony.”
Nevill’s family has stewarded the property for nearly 600 years. Now, like Rixon, he’s addressing climate change, biodiversity loss and mental health by regenerating the estate’s landscape and reconnecting children and adults to nature. Recently, Nevill launched Chalk to Coast, a large-scale nature recovery corridor aimed at helping Kent’s wildlife and people thrive.
Birling Estate’s Badgells Wood campsite, located in an ancient forest, has become a sylvan setting for classes in yoga, breathwork, meditation, music and movement, sound therapy, bushcraft and natural skincare. During art sessions, participants forage plants to craft inks and paints, sculpt animals from clay, or sketch with charcoal made on a campfire. At Wild Things summer camp, kids climb trees, light fires and learn wilderness survival skills.
All these activities promote wellbeing and improve mood. They’re also about “increasing people’s connection to nature and their relationship with nature”, says Lucy Nightingale, a wilderness therapeutic practitioner at Birling Estate. “So hopefully people make different decisions in their life and care more about their local environment.”
Beneath a chestnut canopy, Nightingale guides me in some of the practices she conducts with guests. We do a grounding exercise to tune in to the soil, the trees and our bodies, then a mindful walk to open our senses. She also encourages guests to adopt a “sit spot” routine – the same mindfulness technique Rixon uses to help heal himself and the landscape by becoming more present. It’s a reminder that wellness activities on farms might be a new trend, but they also represent something timeless: a return to ourselves, each other and the land we belong to.
Source: BBC
