Resetting at Healing Chamber Farms

My family drove through the iron gate, quietly observing the scenic grounds of Healing Chamber Farms. White fences enclosed pastures stretching out on both sides of the driveway. In the distance, a family of horses trotted towards us as if in slow motion.

As they approached, we stopped, got out of the car, and met them at the fence. I sensed the lively, scattered energy of the filly, Zoey; its mother, Big Mama, seemed more assured and comfortable. She scanned me with her large, spherical eyes, and then stared into mine as if she intuited the distress I was trying to hide.

It didn’t matter that the sun was setting behind wispy clouds in the tangerine-colored sky. Nor that a display of green, with hints of yellow foliage, was noticeable in the trees. Over the past couple of years, my inner calm had been misplaced. Lost somewhere between multitasking and sporadic self-care, carpool lines, and perimenopause — and the pause part was appropriate, because it was the salve I’d needed but hadn’t made time for until now. A weekend respite in nature.

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Meandering country roads had led us from Asheboro, through the lush Uwharrie National Forest, to Davidson in Cabarrus County. With car windows down and conversation minimal, we wandered off into our individual mental corners, letting songs from our playlist fill the silence. I wondered if anyone felt my anxious energy. I was silently on edge.

The Healing Chamber Farms, black woman-owned and operated, sits on 60 acres of private countryside, and includes an equestrian farm and hiking trails. The three-bedroom, two-bath guest house we booked promised sweeping views and direct farm access. For weeks, Mark and I had eagerly talked about watching horses at play during our morning coffee chats.

The farm’s accommodations, rustic yet modern, were spacious and cozy. Three large bedrooms made it easy to find solitude behind a closed door if necessary. I appreciated that. We also collectively appreciated that our host, Tamara, was readily available to answer any questions and address any concerns.

Tamara Shanell, the owner, is a multifaceted entrepreneur. Using books she’s authored, classes she hosts, and products she curates, Tamara helps others along their spiritual journeys. Spirituality became a big part of her life as she faced major personal transitional periods. From a political rapper focused on female empowerment to a thriving business owner, Tamara is a force in her own right. You can learn more about what she currently offers on her website.

Mark had interviewed Tamara in 2007, when she was a musician known professionally as Cleo Jones. (You can read more about her background in Mark’s story on his Substack, Common Threads.) After that initial meeting, they connected via social media. I was looking forward to meeting her. Not only that, but our busy days and an experience attending Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter summer concert made me long for country landscapes and the company of horses. I’ve always loved watching them gallop and hearing the thud of hooves on the ground. I told Mark I needed a staycation that included horses and it reminded him of Tamara’s posts about her recent venture, The Healing Chamber Farms.

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When we got up Saturday morning, a walking tour of the grounds was scheduled for 10 a.m. Tamara met us right outside of the guest house and led us down the narrow road that cuts through the property, past a field where goats usually roam. She told us that a total of nine horses live on the farm.

The conversation about the property and our marveling at Tamara’s palatial estate almost distracted us from the change in terrain. Asphalt turned to soft ground and then to concrete as we entered the backyard pool area. From there, she guided us into the forest behind the house and onto hiking paths that, to me, felt sacred.

It was a place of familiarity and nostalgia. Even though I’d never stood on this land before, my cells still hold the joy I once felt playing outside as a child in my grandparents’ backyards. My body remembers the many hours I’ve spent hiking as an adult on park and mountain trails, breathing the oxygen of a thousand trees. In a way that words almost can’t express, I was home.

Surrounded by leaves and brush, we looked for sticks long enough to save us from intricately designed spider webs. We whacked and shooed our way up hills and over fallen branches while discussing Tamara’s future plans for the property — to transform the farm into a thriving equestrian community.

My emotions were hard to contain. I found myself overflowing with pride and excitement for someone I’d just met. I was happy for this black woman as if the plans and property were mine, because Tamara’s success represents possibility for other black women, including my children and myself.

With an empty creek bed and an entire ecosystem surrounding us, our smiles told a story of deep connectedness. Our deep breathing, on the other hand, was a reminder that we soon had to hike our way back up. I intentionally left a piece of myself, my energy, in those woods. It was a small way to be my sister’s keeper, but also to have something personal to return to when I need it.

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“Are you okay?” Amber Thompson said as she led the horse my oldest daughter was riding inside the barn next to the guest house and stables. “I just wanted you to feel it. Wanna try again?” Alora sat comfortably atop Big Mama and had been curious about the difference between a walk and a trot. For the next hour or so, Amber, one of the Healing Chamber’s instructors, taught my family how to mount, dismount, and ride the gentle mama horse. She also echoed what Tamara had explained earlier about the importance of relaxing while riding horses, because they respond to our energy.

Although I’d heard this logic before, it was especially interesting to me at the time. I was curious about my own level of calm. Was I really feeling better?

Two things were true for me in the moment when it was my turn to mount Big Mama: I wasn’t afraid of her, and my nervous system felt dramatically different after our hike. This tends to happen when spending time in nature, but I was reminded of how little I’d done that in recent years. The Healing Chamber was showing me exactly how to reset my inner world.

I did my best to absorb Amber’s words, and I was captivated by her playful energy. Like Tamara, she was also extremely kind and knowledgeable. When I asked about her history with horses, she shared how she’d grown up around them. I could see that this was all second nature to Amber and we were in great hands. So much so that my youngest daughter, Vivia, immediately asked to take riding lessons. Alora nodded in full agreement as our session came to an end.

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Later that afternoon, I watched with anticipation as the male horse, Black Lightning, was led from the pasture to the stables for grooming. Once inside, a local horse trainer and trick rider brushed him meticulously. Rarely speaking a word and without breaking stride, she then led us all towards the riding arena.

Sunlight pierced through the windows, creating pockets of glare and a soft, cinematic glaze. We looked on as the trick rider led Black Lightning back and forth across the arena floor, preparing to mount him. His temperament was skittish, and it reminded me of my own demeanor when we arrived the previous day.

With a skip and a hop that I’d only seen done on television, the trick rider was on the saddle. I was impressed watching this 19-year-old handle a horse with such ease and authority. However, having been told that she’d been riding since age four and participated in multiple competitions, I should’ve expected that.

Horseback riding was completely new to Alora and Vivia, and although I’ve ridden at various times, they were always momentary events for me. I loved that my daughters’ first impactful equestrian memories were being made with Black women. It was another moment of pride. I saw inspiration all over their faces and felt it inside of me. My drive and life force were reawakening.

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Early Sunday morning, checkout day, I sat on the couch playing with the sunlight and the shadow it created from my coffee cup. Mark and I engaged in sporadic conversation between sips, social media scrolling, and deep thinking. I wasn’t ready to leave. And as hours passed by, I realized that none of us were.

Our weekend at The Healing Chamber Farms had gifted us the most precious of things: time. Time to pause, to really notice our surroundings, to breathe fresh air, to slow down. And I was personally gifted time to remember.

I remembered what it felt like to become one with nature, a feeling I’ve known and loved since childhood. I remembered my goals and tenacity. All of my inner problems weren’t solved there, per se, but I once again had enough calm to dissect and handle them.

This is what I believe Tamara intends for anyone visiting her property. She has created an environment conducive to rest and healing, which seems to be in alignment with everything she does. Although I considered myself angst-made-flesh when I got there, I did my best to let go and experience what the farm has to offer. I’m very thankful that I did.

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With the checkout list completed, our car packed, and the guest house key returned to the lockbox, we were back on the driveway. Once again, we drove slowly — ever so slowly this time in order to take in the scenery and deeply breathe the fresh air before returning to congested roads. Our car was quiet except for the occasional comment about “coming back.”

I pondered how we’d collectively expressed our love of the place, but I was unsure if my family members individually found what they’d sought overall. Had they sought anything? I was too caught up in my own feelings to inquire beforehand. In that moment, I was curious, but I didn’t dare ask. If there was any more healing to be done inside of me, on those grounds, I didn’t want to miss my opportunity by focusing on anyone else.

The Healing Chamber Farms gave me permission to focus on myself. And as we drove back through that iron gate, I knew I was transformed. I was better rested and wholly inspired to get back to creating the life I want. To be an active participant, a rider.

Perhaps a weekend respite in nature is what we all need. An escape from current events and daily demands. I’ve told the people closest to me about Tamara’s work and her beautiful farm. And if I ever feel lost, I know exactly where to find a piece of myself… in those woods, on the sacred trails behind her home.

AN UPDATE….

It’s been months since my family’s visit to The Healing Chamber Farms. We were recently made aware of current changes surrounding the property. For more information, visit Tamara’s Facebook and Instagram profiles.