Could the World Be Warmer Than You Thought?
The Bush That Broke the Spell
I started my hike the way I often do—full of noise.
I wasn’t just thinking about getting to the top, or how much longer the hike would take. I was scanning—constantly. For danger. For rattlesnakes. For piles of dog poop. For anything that could disrupt or harm. My attention kept darting forward, as if the next step might be the one that went wrong.
At the same time, I was also thinking about work I needed to get done. Wondering if I should be listening to a book instead of just walking. I’d feel a little pull in my back or knee and start to worry—What is that? Should I be concerned?
My mind was full—of danger, of productivity, of getting somewhere and not falling behind.
So even though I was technically “on a hike,” I wasn’t with the hike.
I was somewhere else. In a mental field of caution and accomplishment.
Turning Toward Presence
That’s when I stopped.
Put in my headphones.
And made a choice.
I played a song my brother shared with me called Blessings by Hollow Coves.
Something about that song helps me drop in—it bypasses the thinking part of me and brings me straight into my body.
I use it specifically to feel gratitude.
To connect with the feeling of love, of warmth, of everything I cherish—and to feel it in my body.
And with that song playing, I began practicing a different way of being on the mountain.
I turned my attention to what was around me: a bush, glowing in the sunlight.
I looked at it. Really looked.
And in that one moment, my nervous system softened a bit.
The world around me started to come into focus in a new way.
But then I noticed it again—my thoughts racing ahead to how far I had left to go.
And I brought myself back.
Again and again.
And with every return to presence, the landscape came alive.
This presence wasn’t just stillness—
it was aliveness.
Something opened.
As I kept walking, I started to notice more.
The burn in my legs.
The sweat dripping off my face.
The flowers on the side of the trail.
People walking by me.
Dogs weaving through the trees.
The rusted locks on the fence.
I began pausing—just a little.
Purposely taking an extra two seconds with each thing I saw, each sensation I felt.
Letting it land in my body.
Letting myself be there with it.
And then—something subtle, but real:
I felt a tingle in my body.
And the flowers looked… brighter.
The trees I’d passed a hundred times looked more vivid, more alive.
The breeze on my skin felt almost sacred.
These weren’t new trees.
But they felt new.
Why?
Because I was different.
That tingle—that quiet current moving through me—was presence.
It felt like aliveness.
It felt like joy.
Not the kind of joy I used to chase—
Not the adrenaline rush of jumping out of a plane or the emotional high of a surprise party.
It was quieter. Softer. Just as sweet.
And it was everywhere.
I didn’t have to arrive at the top of the hike.
I didn’t have to accomplish anything to feel it.
It was here.
All around me.
Waiting for me to see it.
Was this always here?
The Smile I Was Waiting For
I used to dream about being famous when I was a kid.
Not for the red carpets or the headlines, really. I think what I was chasing was the experience of being seen—really seen—and warmly received by the world. In my mind, fame meant people would light up when they saw me. That their faces would soften, they’d smile, they’d wave. It meant I mattered.
And as a kid, that dream carried a kind of sweetness—like if I could just be that person, then I’d finally feel connected and loved.
I hadn’t thought about that dream in a while.
But on that hike—after I slowed down, after I came back to my body—
it came rushing back.
I started smiling—not performatively, but from this warm current in my chest.
I wasn’t guarded. I wasn’t testing anything. I was just full.
And I wanted to give it away.
So I smiled. Genuinely. Openly.
And what surprised me is—people smiled back.
Big, full, warm smiles.
A couple dogs trotted over to me—something that never used to happen.
People waved—also rare.
And in those moments, it felt like the dream I had as a kid was coming true—
but not because I was famous.
The Energetic Difference
It was because I was present.
Because I was open.
Because I was showing up in a way that others could feel.
But something else made it even more powerful.
In the past, I might smile or wave and then look away quickly—almost like I was testing the waters.
Will they smile back? Do they care?
And underneath that, I was still guarded. Holding part of myself back just in case.
But this time, I wasn’t looking for a response.
I wasn’t trying to get something.
I was offering something—from a place of fullness.
I felt so connected to the gratitude and love in my body that I wanted to give it to the people around me.
So when I smiled, it wasn’t just a gesture—it was an offering.
And then I did something small—but different.
I held eye contact for just a couple of seconds longer.
Let the energy land.
Gave it space.
And what came back felt completely different.
It wasn’t just a smile.
It was connection. Warmth. Mutual recognition.
Those few extra seconds turned a passing moment into something sacred.
And it made me wonder:
How many moments have I missed—
not because people weren’t open to me,
but because I wasn’t fully open to them?
The Belief That Shapes the Moment
I used to carry around a belief that people in L.A. are cold, self-absorbed, or just not interested in connecting.
And when I believed that, I’d show up guarded. Hesitant. Already bracing for rejection.
So when people didn’t respond to my smile or wave, it only confirmed what I already thought:
See? They don’t care.
But really—it wasn’t about them.
It was about how I was showing up.
Our beliefs shape our posture.
Our posture shapes how we’re received.
And how we’re received then reinforces the beliefs we started with.
It’s a loop.
And the only way I’ve found to interrupt it…
is to lead with presence instead of protection.
To contribute warmth instead of scanning for it.
To risk being seen without knowing how it will be received.
That’s what I did that day.
And what came back was beautiful.
The Fame I Was Actually Chasing
I used to think I needed to be someone special to be worthy of connection.
But what I really longed for was something much simpler:
To feel full enough inside that I could radiate warmth outward.
To light up when I saw others—not because they saw me, but because I saw them.
And that version of “fame”?
It’s available any time I drop in, open up, and share what’s true in me.
A Practice to Try: The Reverse Fame Circuit
You don’t need a mountain for this. But a walk helps.
Try this:
1. Set the Scene
Put on a song that softens you. (I highly recommend starting with *Blessings by Hollow Coves.)
Let the music drop you into your body.
2. Feel First
Notice your breath, your posture, the sensations in your body.
Is there tightness? Urgency? Softness? Just notice.
3. Soften the Gaze
Look around slowly. Let your eyes land on something small and beautiful.
Pause for two seconds. Let yourself really see it.
4. Let the Smile Rise
Not from your mind. From your chest, or belly.
Let it be a response to what you’re feeling—not a performance.
5. Connect Outward
Make eye contact. Smile from that warm place.
Don’t rush past it. Stay for two extra seconds.
Let the energy land.
6. Receive What Comes
Pause and let any response you get register in your nervous system.
You don’t have to do anything—just feel it.
Why This Changes Everything
You don’t have to be famous to be seen.
You don’t have to get to the top to feel joy.
You don’t have to do something extraordinary to feel connected.
You already have the capacity to bring light.
To offer warmth.
To shift your state—and with it, the world around you.
All it takes is presence.
A little courage.
And two more seconds.
You just might find the world is warmer than you thought.
This is the song that helped me soften into presence.
*Blessings by Hollow Coves on YouTube
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This isn’t more to achieve. It’s support for the part of you that wants to stay with what’s already here.
If you’d like to keep practicing this way—with warmth, slowness, and small steps—we’d be honored to have you join us as a paid subscriber.