Dear Passenger,

The cold air brushed our cheeks, and our eyes wandered upward, searching the vast darkness for familiar constellations. We settled on Orion’s Belt, its three stars neatly aligned against the endless black. Just beyond, Mars flickered with a faint amber glow, distant yet impossibly bright.

Nicholle’s voice broke the silence, barely more than a whisper. “I could cry...” She stood still, her head tilted back, eyes wide with wonder. I knew what she meant. Beneath that sprawling sky, we felt small, yet undeniably connected—to each other, to the night, to something far greater than ourselves.

It had been a long, full day. We began the morning with a guided meditation, perched on fallen tree trunks, grounding ourselves against the earth’s steady pulse. The wind whispered around us, weaving through branches, while birds sang above.

Meditation felt different there, surrounded by the elements. Every sound is alive—the shifting breeze, the soft patter of rain as it dances on leaves, gradually building into heavier, more forceful drops before easing back into a gentle, rhythmic lull. Out there, you learn to listen. To the world. To yourself.

“Up on that mountain, conversations flowed as freely as the wind.”

We ventured into town and set our sights on Mam Tor—Mother Hill. The climb was challenging and literally breathtaking. With an incline that steep, each step was demanding more than the last. It was more than just a hike from point A to B.

Up on that mountain, conversations flowed as freely as the wind. There’s something about being out here, in nature, that makes it easier to be open, and vulnerable—even with strangers. By the end, though, we no longer felt like strangers. We laughed, we supported each other, we shared stories and fears.

We reached the summit together, and I couldn’t have been prouder of our little group. No one was left behind. Even when doubts crept in and people thought they couldn’t do it—they did. We did. Together.

“I cherished the one-on-one conversations—the stories, the dreams they were bold enough to share…”

What stood out to me most on this trip were the conversations we shared and the connections we built. We all came into this space with different intentions, most of us arriving solo, yet we found common ground. We learned from each other, took up space in our own ways, and felt free to be our authentic selves. There was no pressure to fit in, no expectations to act a certain way.

I truly believe everyone felt safe enough to show up as they were and share parts of themselves they might not reveal elsewhere. It was beautiful to watch people come out of their shells, to see them take the lead and own their presence. I cherished the one-on-one conversations—the stories, the dreams they were bold enough to share, and the journeys that led each person to Touch Grass.

That’s why this community exists. That’s why we need spaces like this. Spaces where people can be themselves, where joy, connection, and peace come naturally.

I look forward to our first wellness retreat in June, knowing it will be another chance to create these moments. To host a space where people can just exist in nature—together.

Missing the stars already. Also, herbal teas are a must for hostel stays…

See you on the next adventure,

Toni

Originally posted on Passenger