A Life Dedicated to Healing, Heritage, and Natural Wisdom
Published: 03:07 PM,Jul 12,2025 | EDITED : 02:07 PM,Jul 14,2025
A Life Dedicated to Healing, Heritage, and Natural Wisdom
I heard of her death. But nobody can say for sure what caused it. Someone who adored her said she died with a broken heart, after losing her own daughter. I’ve always thought of her as my second mother. In those brief moments—hellos and texts that took weeks to reply—I was happy to imagine her somewhere, living her best life.
Dr. MaryAnn James [Roberta] was far from fragile. I met her at over 60, yet she had so much life in her, it was like talking to someone my age. She was a fascinating person, and for years, she worked in Oman’s wellness world, partnering with one of Oman’s most respected families to bring beautiful wellness programmes to the country.
The first time I met her, she took me to a stunning desert resort. She promised it had one of the most magical spas the country would ever know. During that visit, we discussed many things—how Oman’s seasons are how nature heals us. How the punishing summer makes way for the green Khareef, which renews the soul, and how Khareef is followed by winter. She believed that healing—be it physical, mental, or spiritual—comes from understanding and harnessing the interconnectedness of the mind, body, and spirit. Her approach was rooted in tradition yet presented with a modern awareness, emphasising natural therapies, herbal ingredients, and holistic wellness.
She often referenced regional treasures such as frankincense, Oman’s Rehan, and date fruits, highlighting her pride in local resources and her deep desire to promote indigenous knowledge. Her focus was on gentle, natural methods that not only healed but also inspired wonder about the traditions and ingredients of the region. She wanted her readers and clients to feel both informed and motivated to pursue healthier lifestyles—nurturing themselves with organic farming, face reflections, and natural therapies.
She talked about science and myths, swapping between facts and legends with ease. Using stories from myths and legends, she brought them to life. She loved Oman. She had lived in Sweden and the UK, found peace in the Himalayas, but Oman—the desert—she loved it like an oryx staring into the endless land, still finding reasons to appreciate its quietness and calm.
In the five years I knew her, she taught me more about Oman than my own friends. She teased me about the real location of Diana’s Point and said fossils should be highlighted more in the Jabal Akhdar tourism plans. She genuinely believed that Oman was the best place in the world to heal because of its natural healing elements.
She could switch topics easily, and her memories were as clear as if she were still young. She showed me Oman’s biggest mushroom factory, told me about harvesting the best dates during the full moon. We spent nights in cold Jabal Akhdar talking about how to grow the wellness scene. One day, she picked me up in a golf cart and encouraged me to try playing—telling me I was a better shot than I thought. With her encouragement, I did something I would normally dismiss as boring.
She built a wellness pyramid in Oman—such an old idea now, almost forgotten. But at its peak, she led some media inside a tunnel, into the heart of this pyramid. Inside, she told us to sit on a yoga mat, and under a faint light streaming from above, she showed us the magic of natural Botox—lifting and glowing with just her hands. It was intense and unforgettable; different from anything else.
She had a gift with words. Even in chaos, she was a calm force. I invited her to write as a lifestyle columnist for Oman Observer, where she shared her thoughts on the magic of Oman’s humble herbs, holistic wellness, and secrets from a moonlit garden. Her writings reflected her deep care and dedication—her wish that everyone approached health with kindness, patience, and respect for nature’s gifts.
Now she’s gone, keeping more secrets inside herself, only sharing what she chose. Her columns remain as her last gift—a window into her knowledge and kindness.
I’ve always wondered about her. I like to think she’s still alive somewhere—perhaps in the Himalayas, tending her herbs in a garden, as vibrant as ever. She was full of kindness and wisdom, showing us that the world has so much to give if only we listen, and if only we let it heal us naturally.
I promised I would visit her someday. She promised she’d come to Oman soon. Neither happened. Many who loved her in Oman don’t even know she has passed. So I am writing this tribute—because if anyone deserved to be remembered, it’s her. I thought I knew her well, but I realise I didn’t know everything. And if the world forgets Dr MaryAnn James Roberta, at least in my heart, she will stay alive.
One day, I will find her quiet place in the Himalayas. I will look at those mountains she loved. I will visit the spots she recommended. But just as she lived a life filled with purpose and meaning, I hope mine will also be meaningful, extraordinary, and unforgettable.
If I can have one last conversation with her, I'd tell her I wish God will give her a piece in paradise where she can finally build the spa of her dream. When I come to visit, when my time here is done, we'd sit down once more and talk about the old times. Thank you Dr MaryAnn. Rest well!
Dr. MaryAnn James [Roberta] was far from fragile. I met her at over 60, yet she had so much life in her, it was like talking to someone my age. She was a fascinating person, and for years, she worked in Oman’s wellness world, partnering with one of Oman’s most respected families to bring beautiful wellness programmes to the country.
The first time I met her, she took me to a stunning desert resort. She promised it had one of the most magical spas the country would ever know. During that visit, we discussed many things—how Oman’s seasons are how nature heals us. How the punishing summer makes way for the green Khareef, which renews the soul, and how Khareef is followed by winter. She believed that healing—be it physical, mental, or spiritual—comes from understanding and harnessing the interconnectedness of the mind, body, and spirit. Her approach was rooted in tradition yet presented with a modern awareness, emphasising natural therapies, herbal ingredients, and holistic wellness.
She often referenced regional treasures such as frankincense, Oman’s Rehan, and date fruits, highlighting her pride in local resources and her deep desire to promote indigenous knowledge. Her focus was on gentle, natural methods that not only healed but also inspired wonder about the traditions and ingredients of the region. She wanted her readers and clients to feel both informed and motivated to pursue healthier lifestyles—nurturing themselves with organic farming, face reflections, and natural therapies.
She talked about science and myths, swapping between facts and legends with ease. Using stories from myths and legends, she brought them to life. She loved Oman. She had lived in Sweden and the UK, found peace in the Himalayas, but Oman—the desert—she loved it like an oryx staring into the endless land, still finding reasons to appreciate its quietness and calm.
In the five years I knew her, she taught me more about Oman than my own friends. She teased me about the real location of Diana’s Point and said fossils should be highlighted more in the Jabal Akhdar tourism plans. She genuinely believed that Oman was the best place in the world to heal because of its natural healing elements.
She could switch topics easily, and her memories were as clear as if she were still young. She showed me Oman’s biggest mushroom factory, told me about harvesting the best dates during the full moon. We spent nights in cold Jabal Akhdar talking about how to grow the wellness scene. One day, she picked me up in a golf cart and encouraged me to try playing—telling me I was a better shot than I thought. With her encouragement, I did something I would normally dismiss as boring.
She built a wellness pyramid in Oman—such an old idea now, almost forgotten. But at its peak, she led some media inside a tunnel, into the heart of this pyramid. Inside, she told us to sit on a yoga mat, and under a faint light streaming from above, she showed us the magic of natural Botox—lifting and glowing with just her hands. It was intense and unforgettable; different from anything else.
She had a gift with words. Even in chaos, she was a calm force. I invited her to write as a lifestyle columnist for Oman Observer, where she shared her thoughts on the magic of Oman’s humble herbs, holistic wellness, and secrets from a moonlit garden. Her writings reflected her deep care and dedication—her wish that everyone approached health with kindness, patience, and respect for nature’s gifts.
Now she’s gone, keeping more secrets inside herself, only sharing what she chose. Her columns remain as her last gift—a window into her knowledge and kindness.
I’ve always wondered about her. I like to think she’s still alive somewhere—perhaps in the Himalayas, tending her herbs in a garden, as vibrant as ever. She was full of kindness and wisdom, showing us that the world has so much to give if only we listen, and if only we let it heal us naturally.
I promised I would visit her someday. She promised she’d come to Oman soon. Neither happened. Many who loved her in Oman don’t even know she has passed. So I am writing this tribute—because if anyone deserved to be remembered, it’s her. I thought I knew her well, but I realise I didn’t know everything. And if the world forgets Dr MaryAnn James Roberta, at least in my heart, she will stay alive.
One day, I will find her quiet place in the Himalayas. I will look at those mountains she loved. I will visit the spots she recommended. But just as she lived a life filled with purpose and meaning, I hope mine will also be meaningful, extraordinary, and unforgettable.
If I can have one last conversation with her, I'd tell her I wish God will give her a piece in paradise where she can finally build the spa of her dream. When I come to visit, when my time here is done, we'd sit down once more and talk about the old times. Thank you Dr MaryAnn. Rest well!