Last week, I went on a mother-daughter trip with my youngest and learned a valuable lesson. We spent four days in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico—a place where time seems to slow to its truest, most natural pace.
I was reminded of some of the words in the poem “Time” by David Whyte,
"Time is on our side. Time is not our enemy. Time is our greatest friend. If we can come to know time in its own intimate, unfolding way and not through the abstract measure we have made of it, time starts to grant a greater, more spacious, more elemental, and even eternal freedom to every mortal, seemingly time-bound human life."
Life in San Miguel feels more present. Time stretched to allow for the full absorption of the sights, the scents, the sounds—so palpable and electric.
It always surprises me how resistant I can be to taking a trip like this—four days away with no clear objective, traveling far (two planes and a ninety-minute car ride each way), essentially spending two full days in transit for just three days there. If not for an unused hotel credit from a canceled family wedding, I wouldn’t have gone. In the midst of launching a new business, balancing motherhood, work, and life, a getaway like this can feel indulgent. And planning and executing a trip in the dead of winter—when all I wanted to do was stay wrapped in wool sweaters under two layers of covers—felt exhausting.
But we went. With two other women who were enthusiastic about the spontaneity of the plan and eagerly joined us. And we had a fantastic time. I returned feeling more refreshed than I have in a long time. Why? Because for three full days, we had no agenda. We allowed time to expand. We roamed the streets of a new place with no expectations. We embraced serendipity. We forged new connections. We indulged in the beauty of a place known for its spirituality and creative energy.
I came back inspired—more confident in my ability to create, more connected to my sense of belonging. Not just in the world, but within myself.
There have been so many times when I would have just said NO. When I would have denied myself an experience because I was too busy, too tired, too locked into a routine I thought I couldn’t escape. Too ingrained in the daily habits that stack up to a structured, busy life.
I recently listened to a podcast by writer, life coach, and sociologist Martha Beck. She explains that when we’re stuck—whether in a problem, suffering, or worry—we have to release. And that release allows a different part of our brain to ignite. The solution, she says, will appear as if from nowhere, like a lightbulb guiding the way. But it won’t come from the same place where the feeling of “stuckness” originated. To get there, we have to interrupt the pattern—take a walk, lie down, or do something that brings us back to possibility, connection, and direction.
Stepping away for four days allowed me to return not just to my home, but to myself and to the practices that steady me. I find myself reaching more for my body oil —always sitting open and ready on my bathroom counter—and massaging it into my skin. In those instances, I feel joy in my body. A simple ritual, but one that instantly brought me back to myself, more present than I had been in weeks. It’s so easy to forget these small acts when the chaos of life takes over.
I created these oils for precisely this reason. This trip reminded me why. I saw myself in a new light, re-engaging in my daily rituals with renewed energy. Sometimes, you have to step out to step back in.
