The Battles We Cannot See
“Sometimes the smallest moments
carry the messages we need most.”
Recently, I came across a social media post written by Jay Shetty that stopped me in my tracks. The caption read… “Everyone you pass by is going through something… be kind always.”
The video showed people walking through what appeared to be a busy train terminal. Over each person’s head were words describing something they were silently carrying.
One read: “Missed her connection.”
Another: “Texting ‘I can’t do this.’”
Another: “Starting over at 47.”
Watching it reminded me of an old saying… “Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about,”
“Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”
And the truth is… that statement could not be more real.
The Year That Changed Everything
Last year was, without question, the hardest year of my life.
The details do not matter. What matters is that it took the better part of nine months before I felt like I could breathe again.
Pain has a way of doing that. It settles into your chest. It follows you through the day. It sits beside you at night. But at some point, I made a decision.
I decided I was not going to carry that sadness and hurt with me forever. I refused to let it define the next chapter of my life. Because mindset is a powerful thing.
What we dwell on becomes the lens through which we experience our days. If we allow pain to consume every thought, it becomes the entire landscape of our lives.
“What we dwell on becomes the lens
through which we experience our days.”
But here’s the other reality. While we are caught inside our own personal tornado, we often forget that the people around us are navigating storms of their own.
Cancer. Divorce. The death of a loved one. Starting a new business. Starting life over.
Every single one of those battles is deeply personal. And it is never our place to decide whether someone else’s pain is “big enough” to deserve time, space, or healing.
“It is never our place to decide whether someone else’s pain
is ‘big enough’ to deserve time, space, or healing.”
Healing Has Its Own Timeline
I learned that lesson years ago.
Twenty years ago, when I was engaged, my fiancé cheated on me. The engagement ended, and the relationship ended with it.
A month later, a coworker said something to me that I will never forget. He told me, “You need to get over it.” But healing doesn’t work like that.
You don’t simply “get over” betrayal. You don’t instantly move past broken trust or shattered expectations.
Healing is often messy. Sometimes it’s slow. Sometimes it feels like two steps forward and three steps back.
“Healing is often messy. Sometimes it’s slow.
Sometimes it feels like two steps forward and three steps back.”
And the truth is, the timeline belongs to the person walking through it. No one else.
The Bluebird
Last year, just before everything in my life imploded, I was out on one of my daily walks. Walking has always been something that centers me. It gives me space to think, to pray, and to simply breathe.
As I walked down one particular street, I noticed a bluebird sitting in a tree. The color of its feathers was incredibly vibrant — almost glowing in the sunlight. The bird seemed joyful, singing without a care in the world.
It was such a contrast to where I was emotionally in that moment. My heart was heavy, and I remember walking with tears in my eyes.
The next day, I walked the same street. The bluebird was there again. And then something unusual happened.
As I continued walking, the bird followed me — moving from tree to tree along the street, singing the entire time.
This continued for six days. Every day, the same bluebird.
On the same day, I found him in a different tree. This time, he was with his family. I stood there for a long moment just watching.
He looked in my direction, sang one final song, and then turned his attention back to the next. And in that quiet moment, I felt something shift inside me.
“In that quiet moment, I felt something shift inside me.”
A God-Given Moment
I believe deeply in what I call God-given moments. Moments where something seemingly small carries a message far bigger than itself.
One of my favorite Bible passages has always been Matthew 6:26-27 — the reminder to look at the birds of the air and remember that if God cares for them, how much more must He care for us.
Standing there watching that bluebird, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time… Peace.
In that moment, I knew in my heart that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what the next chapter would look like. But I knew I wasn’t alone.
“I didn’t know how… but I knew I wasn’t alone.”
The very next day, everything in my life imploded. The life I thought I was building suddenly turned into a pile of ashes. And, strangely enough, I never saw that bluebird again. But the message stayed with me.
A Symbol of Hope
Later, when I looked into the symbolism of bluebirds, I learned that they are often associated with hope, renewal, and new beginnings.
Looking back now, I can’t help but feel that those seven days were a quiet reminder. A reminder that even in the middle of heartbreak and uncertainty, something new was already beginning.
“Even in the middle of heartbreak,
something new may already be beginning.”
Sometimes we just can’t see it yet.
The Power of the Walk
My daily walks have become something sacred to me. They give me time to be with God. Time to reflect. Time to set my intentions for the day.
But they also remind me to slow down and notice the world around me. The sound of birds in the trees. The way the wind feels on my face. The smell of fresh air in the morning. The simple rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other.
“The simple rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other
can bring us back to ourselves.”
These moments pull me out of the chaos of life and bring me back to something much more grounded.
A Gentle Reminder
Your wellness journey is yours and yours alone. And so is your healing.
Everyone you pass in a grocery store, on a sidewalk, or in a meeting is likely carrying something you cannot see.
A loss. A fear. A dream they are afraid to chase. A chapter they never expected to start.
We may never know the full story of someone else’s battle. But we can choose kindness.
And sometimes, when we slow down enough to notice the quiet moments — a walk, a breeze, or even the song of a bird — we might just find the reminder we needed to keep going.
A Final Reflection
Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. And sometimes the smallest moments carry the messages we need most.
Moments like these are part of what inspired the Mountain Awakening philosophy.
Real transformation rarely happens in dramatic leaps. More often, it begins in quiet moments of awareness — a walk outside, a deep breath, a shift in perspective, or a small reminder that we are stronger and more supported than we sometimes realize.
“Real transformation rarely happens in dramatic leaps—
it begins in quiet moments of awareness.”
Healing, growth, and renewal all begin the same way. One small step. One new thought. One moment of hope.
And sometimes… even the song of a bluebird.
MOUNTAIN MINDSET
Sometimes the most powerful reminders come in the quietest moments.
Life has a way of pulling us into our own storms — our worries, our pain, our fears about what comes next. But the truth is, every person we encounter is navigating something we cannot see.
Healing does not follow a schedule. Growth does not happen in a straight line. And the battles we carry are deeply personal.
What we can choose, however, is how we move through the world. We can choose patience. We can choose empathy. We can choose kindness.
And if we slow down long enough, we might even notice the small moments meant to guide us — a conversation, a breath of fresh air, or even the song of a bird in a nearby tree.
Sometimes those quiet reminders are exactly what we need to keep moving forward.
