I spent some time in both the mountains and by the ocean recently, trying to clear my head. No great surprise, but It worked. But I think I've figured out one of the reasons why. Last night, I drove out to Nubble Lighthouse in Maine. It was dark, the moon was new, and my original plan was simply to take a few photos of the lighthouse all lit up and pretty. What I ended up getting was actually something unexpected and much better. A sense of wonder. The stars were absolutely incredible. Without the moon lighting up the sky, they seemed to be everywhere. I stood there looking up, realizing how rarely I actually take the time to do that anymore. When I'm out in the Southwest, it's something I do all the time. The dark skies out there are unbelievable. But here in the Northeast? I rarely stop long enough to look up. And last night, I'm glad I did. Later that evening, my friend Amanda sent me a reel on Facebook. (Thanks, Amanda. Your timing couldn't have been better.) The message was simple: When life and your problems feel too big, go someplace that makes you feel small. Well, shit. That was exactly what I needed to hear. I think that's what I've been missing lately. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own lives, our worries, our responsibilities, and all the crap running through our heads that we lose perspective. Everything feels enormous. Every little, shitty and insignificant problem seems to demand our immediate attention. It's a total energy drainer And then you stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon. Or on top of a mountain. Or beside the ocean, staring up at a sky filled with more stars than you could ever count. And suddenly, you realize just how small you are. Not small in an insignificant or unimportant way. Small in a wonderfully comforting way. The world is enormous. The universe is almost impossible to comprehend. And somehow, standing in the middle of all that vastness makes the things weighing on your shoulders feel a little lighter.