Whether you can read a natal chart with your eyes closed or think the zodiac is complete BS, you could probably use a spa day. Few Virgos or Sagittariuses or Pisces would turn down a massage or facial… but would you like those treatments even more if they were chosen based on your chart? It’s a question I asked myself when I was invited to experience the Civana Wellness Resort & Spa in Carefree, Arizona.
For years, Civana has topped critics’ lists thanks to its curated, happiness-focused approach to wellness tourism. If the name of the town it’s in wasn’t enough indication that it’s the real deal, also consider that it’s located about 25 miles outside the spa capital of the country: Scottsdale, Arizona, where I happened to be in late May for a friend’s birthday weekend. A 35-ish minute ride from my Airbnb was all it took for me to find myself at the desert sanctuary.
Civana’s roster of daily activities includes several wellness and fitness classes, spa treatments, hikes, meditations, and more. The goal? Maximum happiness, ease, and alignment. I arrived at the resort hoping to achieve all that, with my star sign guiding me. One option for guests is the “Your Element, Your Journey” program, a series of experiences curated to the personality traits of your zodiac sign’s element: fire, water, earth, or air. Each element has an offering of three wellness experiences and three spa services.
I’m not a zodiac expert by any means, but I can tell you my “big three” (sun, moon, and rising signs), and a little bit about what that means… according to my CoStar app, at least. I’m a Cancer sun, Scorpio moon, and Taurus rising. My sun and moon signs are water, and my rising sign is earth. Since I’m water dominant, I opted for a water spa experience.
Water signs are believed to be intuitive, emotional, deep, and highly reflective. We’re tapped into our feelings, which is a strength, but can also be very tumultuous. Civana’s water sign offerings are designed to help Cancers, Scorpios, and Pisces “embrace serenity,” aka chill out and stop overthinking.
There are six experiences assigned to each element, and you can choose to partake in all or a few of them. If you’re an earth sign, for example, there’s a dance class, a hot stone massage, and more. Among the choices for air signs is aerial yoga and an oxygen facial. Fire signs can get immersed in nature with a “desert bath” and a deep muscle massage.
Water signs can enjoy a menu that includes aqua therapy healing, chakra yoga, and a seminar on healing your inner child. Of course, this lineup allows plenty of time in the water—very on the nose. Do I enjoy the water? Yes. Am I a water baby? Only according to the zodiac. This Cancerian loves a moment in the pool or at the beach, but I don’t usually spend much time in the actual water. I prefer sailing on it or sitting by it, hopping in for a quick dip, then drying off in the sun. Pruney fingers and toes just aren’t my thing.
Since I had limited time in Arizona, I couldn’t do all six experiences, as it would have taken a few days to complete. What did I have time for? A calming aromatherapy massage. By the time I arrived at Civana, I needed it. I was covered in a veneer of dust after offroading (as a passenger princess) in a UTV at the Tonto National Forest. I’d had plenty of excitement for the day, as evidenced by my ashy legs and dirt-tinged activewear set. It was also 6 pm, and I had to be seated for dinner by 9 pm. Running on limited time is the opposite of relaxing, but I hoped that the massage, which Civana so generously covered for me, might ease my anxiety.
I pull up to the resort, hop out of my Uber, and speed to the front desk, my eyes scanning the space to ensure no one notices my legs. The spa is just beyond the entrance. It's a short walk—too short. I wanted more time to take in the landscape before my appointment (I did get a chance to do so afterward). Pro tip: walk around, even if you’re just visiting the spa but not staying at the resort.
The Civana grounds are stunning; zen in a way well-suited to the landscape. There are hills all around, sun-parched to a sandy gray brown hue. There isn’t a whisper of a cloud overhead—just the light turquoise of the sky that turns to an ombré of orange, pink, and purple at sunset before it darkens to rich navy-black at night. The cacti are in bloom around this time of year. Tufts of white petals sprout from their rounded tops that stand as high as trees. The ground is covered in a dusting of stones, like ice cream dipped in Heath bar pieces. The paths are lined with larger stones, smoothed by the desert wind.
After checking in for my appointment, I head to the locker room to change into a robe and slippers, then hurry off to meet my masseuse for my session. She greets me at the top of the stairs before leading me to the massage room. The vibe is what you’d expect: ambient lighting, chill spa music.
I’m generally a fan of massages, though I don’t think that’s because I’m a Cancer—it's because I carry a heavy computer in my work bag and sometimes sleep weird. I’m bound to get some tension or soreness in my back or shoulders, and sometimes the only way to fix it is to lie down and get somebody else to get rid of it.
My masseuse starts by asking me where I’d like to focus—standard question. I tell her my mid-lower back and my neck. As she dips her hand in the massage oil, I pay close attention to whether or not this experience is appealing to my Cancerian sensibilities. Is the aromatherapy hitting? I’m a big fragrance girl, so I expect that element to be especially impactful. I close my eyes and inhale as her fingers make contact with the nape of my neck, waiting to discover which scent will hit my nose. Clary sage? Eucalyptus? Dragon fruit? Some other exotic extraction from a rare plant I’ve never heard of?
After a few deep breaths, I realize I’m not smelling much. The oil is very lightly scented. At first, I wonder if it’s almond, the not-so-sweet variety, that I’m smelling. What it was: Roman chamomile and lavender. What my nose didn’t initially pick up, the rest of my body did. Those specific scents actually do have properties that help decrease anxiety and stress, and I can’t deny I felt significantly more relaxed after the massage. I dare say I was fully “embracing serenity” through my hour-long session.
The most important question: Was my inner water sign activated after the massage? I wouldn’t say that. It was a pleasant experience, but I likely would have enjoyed any of the other available activities, regardless of who they were meant for. For example, Civana’s air sign program includes the Marine Oxygenating Facial. That looked pretty interesting to me, especially in such a dry climate—my skin was starved for moisture.
The day after I hit up Civana, I visited the spa at Hotel Valley Ho in Scottsdale, and did a similarly moisture-restoring oxygenating facial. While the facials aren’t exactly the same, they boast similar skin-smoothing and nourishing effects. Guess what—my skin looked great afterward, even though I’m not an air sign. After my facial, I headed out to Valley Ho’s pool, where I found a lively crowd, a DJ and his saxophone-playing cohort, and a bar with flowing drinks—very much the opposite of the chill vibes at Civana. It was exactly what I wanted after a spa treatment. Not very Cancerian, I wager, but still very much me.
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