Mountains, Magic, and Moments that Shift You

When my sister asked me to join her on a road trip to Colorado, I didn’t hesitate. The thought of time together, of reconnecting with her and my nephew, felt like exactly what I needed. And the mountains - those ancient sentinels – hold something sacred for me, a kind of enchantment that no other place can offer.

We arrived in the San Luis Valley after two long stretches on the road, first to Amarillo, then onward into the heart of the mountains. But something felt off. There was an unease within me—an echo of an old version of myself, one that drifted through life rather than truly living it. I was happy to be there, but I wasn't present. I was going through the motions, much like I had in past seasons of my life, doing what was expected, waking up the next day, and repeating the cycle.

Yet, the mountains have a way of demanding attention. They pull you into their rhythm, whispering through shifting clouds and golden beams of sunlight cast upon a peak—just for a moment, just enough to say, Look. Don’t miss this. The universe, it seems, is always offering us invitations, but it is up to us to accept them.

Then today, an unexpected gift. My sister offered me a massage—a gesture of care, of love. But guilt crept in. I resisted. A part of me felt unworthy of it, as if accepting meant taking something away from her. I wrestled with the feeling, the old voice that whispered: You haven’t earned this. But she insisted, and I finally relented.

As I lay there afterward, the tension unwinding from my body, I felt something deeper loosening too—an old belief that I thought I had let go of but realized I was still clinging to. The idea that receiving was somehow selfish, that accepting kindness meant an invisible debt I had to repay. And in that quiet space, I realized it was still controlling me.

Later, in an open and honest conversation with my sister and someone I had never met yet felt connected to in that moment, I was reminded of something a friend told me long ago: If you refuse a gift, you are denying someone the joy of giving. We offer our love, our time, our kindness freely, hoping it will be received. Why should it be any different when the roles are reversed?

I sit here now, writing this, with a different perspective. Allowing beauty to enter, allowing generosity to be embraced, allowing myself to exist within the flow of life's gifts without resistance.

Sometimes, magic isn’t in grand revelations—it’s in small moments that shift something inside of you. And today, I let it in.