There’s something rare about spaces where people are simply together—not to network, not to prove anything, not to impress, but to share presence. To breathe in the same air, to listen, to move, to sit in silence or laughter without the need for constant explanation. Spaces where we are not reduced to what we do for a living, the roles we play, or the personas we cultivate.
I’ve come to believe that these spaces are necessary. They help us remember who we are beyond the noise of daily life. And when we find them, they have a way of deepening connections—sometimes with old friends, sometimes with strangers who unexpectedly become important to us.
Isolation is sneaky. It disguises itself as self-sufficiency, as rest, as an understandable response to overwhelming times. But left unchecked, it wears us thin, dulls our edges, makes everything feel heavier than it should. That's why we have to show up for each other.
The Mindful Unplug retreat at the Feathered Pipe Ranch in Montana is one of those places. Year after year, it draws people who are willing to show up as themselves, who come with curiosity, who value presence over performance. And something special happens in that environment: friendships form that might not have in the usual rush of life.
I think about my own experiences in spaces like this—how easy it is, in the right environment, to find a natural rhythm with others. There’s a kind of magic in waking up to mountain air, moving together in a way that feels nourishing, sharing meals where conversation flows freely (or where silence is just as comfortable).
No one is keeping track of time the way we do at home. There is s p a c e.
There is permission to be. And in that space, friendships flourish—not forced, not transactional, but real. Community is a force multiplier for joy. I’ve felt that at the Feathered Pipe. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back. Maybe that’s why so many people do.
The retreat is now well over two-thirds booked, but there are still some exquisite lodging choices remaining. Feathered Pipe hosts just one program at a time and the lodging spots limit the size of each retreat. That means that if you join us at The Mindful Unplug, you won't find yourself on a busy, buzzing campus among scores of people who are there for another reason. This makes for a spacious intimacy that's rare in world of retreat centers.
The world feels like a shopping cart with a busted wheel, wobbling unpredictably, lurching in one direction when you swear you meant to go in the other.
Chaos clatters, headlines howl, and everything seems just a little too much. And yet—somewhere in the middle of it all, there’s a table, a porch, waiting for the weight of an old friend or the delight of making a new one. If this resonates, consider joining us this summer. Not because you “should.” Not because it’s another thing to add to your list. But because spaces like this are worth finding, and so are the people who gather there.
