Are You Lost or Just Missing the View?

On Taking the Scenic Route…

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to take the scenic route — especially after our road trip to Shenandoah national park… And not just in travel, but in life. It’s not the fastest way, not the straight shot to the destination, but the one full of overlooks, detours, unexpected pauses, and little wonders you’d miss if you were only focused on the end.

And the more I sit with it, the more I realize it might be what its all about. 

There’s No Real Rush

One of the biggest lessons I’ve been learning (and relearning) is that there’s truly no rush. We don’t have to sprint through every phase of life as if there’s a finish line we’re running toward. Every era, every chapter, even the ones that feel messy or uncertain, has something beautiful in it.

Someday, I know I’ll look back and miss pieces of the season I’m in right now. The opportunity to live with my family, work a fun job with amazing people, connect with my sister, heal my teenage self. Maybe the simplicity of it. Maybe the people who were part of this chapter. Maybe even the small, mundane routines that seem ordinary today but will feel like treasures tomorrow.

The only thing constant in life is change. Seasons shift, people come and go, and the view never stays the same. So why not enjoy this one while we’re here? It’s funny, we tend to laugh when we remember the hardest moments and cry when we remember the most beautiful ones. Somehow, both hold the same kind of nostalgia.

Stopping at the Overlooks

So how do we stop at the overlooks in our everyday lives, not just when we’re on a mountain trail or road trip?

For me, it often starts with mindfulness. There are days I catch myself living on autopilot, moving from task to task without ever fully being present. But when I take a breath and really dial into the moment, it grounds me. It reminds me: I am here. I am real. This moment matters.

A simple practice that helps me is engaging all five senses. I’ll name five things I see, four things I hear, three things I can feel, two things I smell, and one thing I can taste. It’s like a reset button for my brain, a way to step out of my head and into the world around me.

Another way is journaling. It doesn’t have to be anything polished or profound, just a timestamp of what I’m thinking and feeling in that moment. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s a rant. Sometimes it’s a list of little things that made me smile that day. Writing without worrying about how it sounds is freeing. It’s like pressing “pause” on life long enough to notice where I really am.

And just like stopping to admire a view on a hike, I’ve been learning it’s okay, necessary, even, to pause in life. We don’t need to sprint up every trail. We can stop, catch our breath, admire a rock or tree, pick a leaf and put it in our pocket. Rest is not failure. Rest is part of the journey.

The Beauty of Breaks

Sometimes the pauses in life aren’t ones we plan. Sometimes we drift away from hobbies, take space from friendships, or step back from projects we love. And that’s okay too.

With Siela, for example, there have been times I’ve felt guilty for taking a break, like I was letting people down, or letting myself down. But the truth is, sometimes we need to live a little before we can create again. We need to fill our souls with experiences before we can pour them back into the work that matters to us.

Breaks don’t mean we’ve failed. They mean we’re human.

Pivoting and Changing Course

Another lesson I’m holding onto: it’s okay to change the path.

When life presents a fork in the road, we get to decide which direction feels right. And if it doesn’t turn out the way we hoped? That’s okay too. There’s no “wrong” way. We can always pivot. We can even turn back if we need to.

How else would we know what fits us, if we never tried?

I’ve had moments where I chose a path that looked beautiful but wasn’t what I imagined once I was in it. And yet, I don’t regret those routes, because they taught me what I value, what I want, and what I don’t. Every road shapes us, whether it leads to where we expected or not.

The Journey Was Always the Destination

In the end, I think that’s the biggest truth of all: the journey itself was always the destination.

There’s no clear end point, no perfect “arrival.” Life isn’t a straight line, it’s a spiral. Always looping, always circling back, always evolving.

The scenic route isn’t just a path we choose — it’s the very essence of being alive. It’s messy and raw and beautiful and surprising. It’s a ride we only get once.

So, welcome to the ride. Don’t forget to enjoy it.

Trusting the Spiral

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the spiral itself, how it shows up in nature, in seashells, in galaxies, in the tiniest patterns of plants. To me, it feels like a reminder of divine order, that there’s a higher design, a bigger picture we can’t always see.

For me, this ties into my faith. My relationship with God is what helps me trust the process, especially when the path feels uncertain. I believe everything happens for a reason, even if I don’t see it right away. The spiral reminds me that growth isn’t always linear, it’s layered, cyclical, always bringing us closer to something deeper.

I’m trying to lean into that trust more. To believe that I’m exactly where I need to be, even when it doesn’t make sense yet.

Looking Ahead

In my next blog, I want to share more about this, about how my relationship with God has been shaping my perspective and helping me walk this scenic route with more peace and faith. I’m nervous to open up about it, but also excited. If it sparks something in you, or helps you feel a little less alone, then it’s worth sharing.

Until then, I hope you take a moment today to stop at an overlook. To pause, breathe, and remind yourself: there is no rush.

The journey is the destination.

xoxo,

Justina