On road trips, it’s rarely the highway miles that stick with you.
It’s the countless hours playing cards in the van, that restaurant that turned out to be a bar in a one-stoplight town, or how my kids get embarrassed when I sing along to certain songs in the car. Those are the stories you tell later — the moments that turn an ordinary drive into a memory.
Life, I’ve realized, works the same way.
We spend so much time chasing the next destination — the next goal, the next stage, the next “when things slow down” — that we forget to look out the window and notice what’s right beside us. The simple joys. The scenic route moments that make the journey worthwhile.
“The scenic route isn’t about getting there slower — it’s about seeing what you’d otherwise miss.”
The Rush vs. the Scenic Route
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I’m a scenic route kind of person. I like to take my time — to soak things in, to notice the little details most folks might speed right past. My husband, on the other hand, is a straight-shot-to-the-destination kind of man. He likes efficiency, clear routes, and checking things off the list.
When we travel, he’s the one watching the GPS, while I’m over here craning my neck to catch the sunset or asking, “Hey, what if we stop there for a minute?”
And honestly, it’s a pretty good picture of how we approach life too.
He’s driven and focused — the one who keeps us moving forward. I’m the one reminding us to slow down long enough to enjoy the view. Somewhere between his steady stride and my wandering spirit, we find our rhythm.
That’s not to say I don’t have my own “just get through it” moments — especially when the day feels long, or the to-do list is packed with things that aren’t exactly inspiring. But even then, I try to remind myself that there’s beauty tucked in the in-between. That it’s okay to breathe before rushing to the next thing. Because the truth is, when I slow down, I notice more — and that’s where the simple joys hide.
The Moments That Mattered Most
The first one came in the form of laughter — my baby boy’s laughter, to be exact.
He’d been giggling for everyone but me for weeks, and though I told myself not to take it personally, there was a little ache there. Then one evening, while getting him ready for bed, I discovered his ticklish spot. He shrugged, started giggling, and I swear my whole heart turned to sunshine. It was such a small moment, but it felt like the world stopped spinning just long enough for me to breathe it in.
Then there’s my four-year-old. We’ve had a few tough stretches lately — growing pains, big emotions, the usual mix of chaos and cuddles. But I made a few small tweaks to our routine — nothing major, just gentle structure and more one-on-one time — and it’s like watching a flower open again. He’s calmer, lighter, and every now and then I catch myself thinking, When did you get so tall? It’s humbling how something so small can make such a difference.
And then there’s my husband — my steady one. I’ve been noticing him more lately too, how he drags himself out the door each day to provide for us, even when he’s completely exhausted. I see the weariness in his eyes, but I also see the love in the way he shows up: still playing with the kids, still helping after a long day. That quiet, faithful kind of love deserves its own scenic route pause. Those three moments — a baby’s giggle, a child’s growth, a husband’s quiet strength — have reminded me that life’s most meaningful landmarks aren’t always loud or obvious. Sometimes, they’re just the simple joys we almost overlook.
The Scenic Route of Life
The scenic route doesn’t get you there faster — and that’s kind of the point.
It’s where the color lives. The unplanned stops, the detours, the laughter echoing through the in-between miles.
In my creative journey, I’ve found the same truth. Inspiration rarely shows up when I’m rushing. It comes in the quiet pauses — when I’m rocking my baby, sipping coffee in the quiet, or catching a fleeting bit of light through the window in my door. That’s when ideas begin to form. That’s when gratitude turns into creativity.
The small moments are what fuel me — as a mom, a wife, and as an artist. They remind me to pay attention, to look more closely, and to let the ordinary show off its magic.
A Simple Reflection for the Week
If life’s felt a little rushed lately, I want to invite you to try this:
Each day this week, jot down one “small but big” moment — something that made you pause, smile, or feel a flicker of joy. It could be a smell, a sound, a laugh, or even a quiet bit of peace. Call it your scenic route list.
Over time, those little notes become a reminder that joy doesn’t hide at the finish line — it’s scattered all along the road.
Sometimes the best memories are made in the in-between miles.
Life doesn’t have to be grand or picture-perfect to be meaningful. Most of the time, it’s the quiet moments — the ones we almost miss — that end up being the most beautiful souvenirs of all.
💬 Share a small moment that felt big this week in the comments — I’d love to celebrate it with you.
From my road to yours, happy wandering.
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