It’s late summer, and I’m sitting on the porch at Spirit Mountain with a cup of coffee. Not just any coffee, but coffee grown on the slopes of Spirit Mountain, directly in front of me.
I find myself thinking about when Krista and I lived in Santo Domingo in the 90s. We loved the energy, the people, the movement. And I guess when you’re young, two hours in traffic just feels like how humans get around. I’m less convinced now.
What I didn’t see then was how the constant pace quietly settles inside you. The traffic. The noise. The schedule. The endless list of things that need to happen next. Without realizing it, the hurry begins to wear on our minds and our spirits.
Sometimes we don’t even notice it until we get away.
Spirit Mountain has been teaching me something different.
We’re not offering some carefully curated “digital detox.” You can bring your phone. There are just a few places where it won’t work. Depending on the day, we consider that either a technical problem or one of our better amenities.
What we’re really trying to offer is space.
Space to think. Space to have a long conversation. Space to walk without needing to accomplish anything. Space to notice where you are again.
Come curious.
Walk through the coffee farm with Delvie or one of our many teams members. Ask why one slope looks different than another. Ask what a good coffee year actually means. Look closely at the plants. Talk with the people who have spent years nurturing this land and who understand its seasons in a way that no brochure ever could.
Take a coffee tour. Hike one of the trails or ride a mountain bike if that’s your thing. Slow down and watch the birds. Wander. Get your shoes dirty. Or sit on the porch and watch other people exercise, which has become one of my more refined outdoor skills as of late.
Stay for dinner. Spend the night in one of our Treehouses, an A-Frame, or even a tent if you want the full experience. Wake up while the mountain air is still cool and before the farm begins another day.
You don’t have to do everything. In fact, maybe that’s part of the point.
Maybe I’m thinking about all of this because Krista and I are preparing to come home to the Dominican Republic after a short chapter of our lives in the United States comes to an end. And I’m realizing how much this mountain — and the people who care for it — have become part of what the word home means to us.
So maybe this is our invitation.
Come home with us for a little while.
Bring your curiosity. Bring your questions. Walk with us. Talk with us. Sit down for a cup of coffee and let’s share a little of life together.
Bring your phone if you like. We just can’t promise you’ll want to look at it.
And if you’re curious about this invitation, reach out. Give me a call. We’d love to share our vision of life at Spirit Mountain with you — and hear a little about yours.
Your Family,
Chad and Krista
