The view from 30,000 feet
When big problems end up looking small
It is funny how relative our problems are. Not just from person to person, but even within our own lived experiences across time.
Something that really solidified this for me recently was on a flight home earlier this month. As we flew into the Denver area, we passed over a small patch of red rocks in the foothills.
At first, I didn’t think much of it—until I realized I was getting a bird’s-eye view of Red Rocks Ampitheatre. It’s a spot I’ve been to a handful of times, and one that always leaves me in awe. (I’ll drop a video I took at Red Rocks a few years back, but it doesn’t even begin to capture just how incredible it is. ↓)
At ground level, it is honestly breathtaking. You are outdoors, surrounded by these naturally formed sandstone monoliths towering 300 feet high. When you enter the space, you can’t help but be overwhelmed by the grandeur of nature. It creates a feeling that is always humbling.
And yet, looking down from the plane?
It was almost comically minuscule. A tiny speck of red amongst the grey mountain peaks surrounding it. I couldn’t help but laugh at the contrast. To experience the very same place that feels overwhelmingly huge and all-consuming from one angle, but looks like a speck from another, reminded me that so much of life is exactly the same.
So many of our worries and struggles feel destabilizing in the moment. And rightfully so. In the throes of it, everything feels bigger, more significant, and it is sometimes all you can focus on.
But when we look back on them weeks, months, or years later? They often feel insignificant in contrast.
Both experiences are true. Both are real. They are just relative to time, space & context.
In that moment on the plane, I couldn’t help but smile at the encouragement this shade of perspective gave me. It is okay for life to feel big and overwhelming at times. But it is also okay to hold onto the truth that, in the big picture of this thing called life, it won’t always feel that way.
And holding that contrast in the back of my mind makes it a little easier to take life in stride.
Talk soon,
Erin
PS. If you have a moment this weekend, think back over the last year.
What felt hard?
What took up more headspace than you expected?
What kept cropping up on repeat that just wouldn’t resolve itself?
(I actually asked ChatGPT to go back through my 2025 chat history to point out the themes I stressed over the most—it was so eye-opening).
And then by contrast, how do those worries feel today? How are you a more resilient spirit because of them? Holding space for life to be hard, while teaching your brain that these experiences are relative, just might help you feel a little more grounded the next time it all feels like “too much.”