Sagarmatha, surrender, and the art of letting go 🏔️

Hello, beautiful souls,

Before I begin, a gentle reminder that I created a mindfulness guide called The Path Within for those of you looking to cultivate more presence and ease in your day-to-day life. It’s full of tools that have helped me find grounding in a world that’s constantly shifting—along with personal reflections and stories from my travels. You can grab it here. I hope it supports you.

If you’d like to check out the introduction first to see if the guide is right for you, you can view it for free here.

Now, onto this month’s reflections—written in my Notes app while I was off-grid for two weeks, trekking to Sagarmatha base camp with my friend Mel and Travel Light Adventures. Our reunion after the Camino felt so special, and of course we ended up completing another pilgrimage side by side.

(Sagarmatha, which means Goddess of the Sky in Nepali, is my preferred name over Everest—which was named after a British surveyor—because it’s considered a sacred place and a symbol of beauty. And obviously, the tallest and most majestic mountain in the world would be feminine.)

When I imagined this journey—one I’d been planning for months—I was fixated on a certain outcome. The experience I had turned out to be nothing like the version I’d played on repeat in my mind. And in that difference came the lesson I clearly needed: impermanence is everywhere. How we relate to it determines so much of our peace.

I imagined clarity, triumph, and that deep, soul-awakening high that comes from doing something truly epic. But like most things in life, it didn’t unfold the way I expected.

Halfway through the 12-day trek, I got violently ill with food poisoning. I was weak, depleted, and unsure if I could continue.

I cried. A lot.
I lost faith in my body and my abilities.
I had to let go of the destination, and just exist—moment by moment, breath by freezing breath.

After an extra day of rest, I was somehow able to keep going. Two days later, I made it to base camp and Kala Patthar, another mountain with stunning 360° views of Sagarmatha and the Himalayan range. And our incredible Sherpa guide, Pasang—who has walked with trekkers from all over the world—told me he had never met a woman so strong, determined, and calm.

I will carry those words with me like badges of honor for a long, long time.

On the final day during the descent, a stone I had carried from Koh Phangan—chosen with the intention to gift someone along the trek—disappeared. I searched everywhere, but it was gone. A final little wink from Sagarmatha. Another gentle invitation to let go.

These moments are always trying to teach us something. This one reminded me that loving something deeply—whether a person, a plan, or a dream—doesn’t mean holding onto it tightly.

It means being fully in it while it’s here.
And letting it go, with grace, when it’s time.

Detachment isn’t cold.

It’s about staying open without gripping. Softening into uncertainty. Loving without needing to control.

Let me tell you—it is so hard.
But it’s such a powerful practice.

And I’m learning that loving people deeply and letting them go with grace aren’t opposites—they’re partners in presence. While it hurts, it’s also what helps us grow. Makes us softer. Stronger. Wiser.

When successfully embodied, detachment makes you unfuckwithable. (My favorite word for that sacred kind of resilience.)

Each adventure brings me closer to myself—with open eyes, an open heart, and a deep trust in the magic of what continues to unfold in my life.

Detachment is a process, my friends, and it’s certainly not a linear one.

I hope you can make someone smile today,
Holly x

P.S. You can grab The Path Within, my mindfulness guide here ✨

P.P.S. Stay tuned for some more exciting Camino-related stuff coming soon ☺️