Life moves fast, and we’re all guilty of getting caught up in the chaos.
Deadlines pile up, notifications never stop, and before we know it, days turn into weeks, and weeks into years. We tell ourselves we’ll slow down “someday,” but somehow, that day never comes.
I used to think the phrase ‘stop and smell the roses’ was just something people said when they ran out of better advice. Then I went to Alaska with my mom, and let’s just say—roses have nothing on glaciers.
I mean, sure, I’d heard it a thousand times before. Slow down. Be present. Appreciate the moment. But life has a way of sweeping you up in its relentless current—emails, errands, deadlines, distractions. Who really has time to stop and take it all in? At least, that’s what I thought until I found myself in the middle of the Last Frontier, surrounded by towering mountains and a presence so thick it felt like it was pressing against my skin.
The Journey North
In my last post, I mentioned three significant life events that inspired me to start this project. Looking back, I realize I shared the third event first and am now circling back to the first one in the chronological sequence… whoops. But hey, that's life.
I've been fortunate to share many trips with my family, especially my mom. We made it a tradition to take a trip together every year, just the two of us. Some memorable destinations include Washington, D.C., New York City, and, of course, Alaska. We stayed with my mom’s cousin who moved there in his 20s and never looked back. She had visited before, but this was the first time experiencing it for myself.
We spent our days taking long drives through the Alaskan countryside—endless roads flanked by towering mountains, silver streams winding through the landscape, and quiet hikes that led us up the peaks.

I imagined this trip would be a perfect escape from the daily hustle and bustle of life at home—a break from emails, grocery shopping, and endless to-do lists. But what I found wasn’t just an escape; it felt like a homecoming to something ancient and essential within me.
Living Within Nature
One thing that's impossible to ignore in Alaska is the fact that you are completely within nature. At home, it often feels like you have to choose—either you live in the city, surrounded by concrete and convenience, or you retreat to the countryside, seeking space and solitude. In Alaska, that distinction doesn’t exist. Nature is everywhere, and you are a part of it whether you like it or not.
Bears roam the roadside. Moose crossings? A daily occurrence. Even stepping onto what looks like solid ground can land you knee-deep in mud that acts like quicksand. You have to be alert, aware, and in tune with the environment around you, because out here, nature isn't just a backdrop—it's an active participant in your day-to-day life.
This realization was a quintessential "duh" moment. I had been so caught up in the routines of civilized life—the schedules, the deadlines, the never-ending notifications—that I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a place where nature was completely in control. No distractions, no technology, just the world, vast and untouched.
What struck me most was how natural it felt to be in such an environment. It wasn’t uncomfortable or foreign; instead, it felt like something I had been missing for a long time without even realizing it. There was that sense of belonging, of being exactly where I was meant to be. And it made me question—why does it take me coming to a place so far away from home to feel this way?
Being in Alaska made me realize how much of my daily life back home was spent disconnected from the natural world. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate nature—I just wasn’t fully immersed in it. And that’s the thing: most of us aren’t. We live in environments carefully designed to keep us comfortable, efficient, and distracted.
My time in Alaska taught me a profound lesson—beauty isn’t exclusive to grand adventures; it’s woven into the everyday moments we often overlook.
Seek Beauty Right Where You Are
Divine life moments (DLMs…yes I made that up) occur all the time. What do I mean by DLMs? Moments that suddenly thrust you into the present, demanding your full attention. You’re awake for, on average, 16 hours a day. If we assume a highly conservative number of 1 DLM each hour, that’s 16 a day. In reality, it’s much more than this but we have the unique ability to overlook these moments.
Stepping out of routine makes us more sensitive to them, but they’re always happening—every day, all around us.
It took me being in the stillness of nature, to realize that it’s in our own nature to be still—to take time to slow down and fully come into the present moment, in tune with the world around us.
It’s natural.
Life’s beauty isn’t just found in grand landscapes like Alaska; it’s in the quiet moments too—sipping coffee with your mom on her back porch, agonizing over a golf shot with your dad, or laughing uncontrollably with your significant other on a random Tuesday.
Be careful, though. If you’re distracted, you might miss it.
Here’s my challenge for you. Take only 60 seconds out of your day to stop whatever you’re doing and just look around. Notice the small things. The overlooked.
I guarantee you’ll find so much beauty living right under your nose.
With Love,
Brady
P.S. We listened to a local band play one of our last nights there. Their sound uniquely captures the feel of Alaska. Check them out.