# Pausing at the Stones

Milestones dot the winding roads we travel—simple stones set in the earth, whispering that we've come this far. They're not grand gates or finish lines, just quiet markers inviting us to look back and breathe. In life, they appear as a first job, a child's smile, or the steady hand of a friend in hard times. On this early January day in 2026, I find myself at one, grateful for the path behind.

## The Weight of What We've Carried

Each milestone holds the story of steps taken, burdens lifted, and small victories earned. Think of a hiker resting by a trail marker, not rushing ahead but feeling the ache in their legs and the sun on their face. We've all carried packs heavier than we knew—losses that reshaped us, joys that lightened the load. These stones remind us:

- Progress isn't always upward; sometimes it's surviving the flat stretches.
- Distance traveled matters more than speed.
- What we leave unmarked fades quickest.

Reflection here turns memory into strength, turning "I did it" into "I grew through it."

## Stepping Onward, Eyes Open

From this spot, the road ahead curves out of sight, full of unknowns. Milestones teach us to move without forcing the future, trusting the next stone will appear when it's time. It's a gentle philosophy: honor the now, release the rush. In 2026's fresh light, that feels like enough.

*May we meet each marker with open hands and steady feet.*