The Smooth Road - The Sign to Lose Your Ego

 The road stretched ahead, an endless ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the horizon. Claire glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her reflection in the fading light. Her hazel eyes, once warm and flecked with gold, now seemed dull, their green murky and lifeless. She sighed and refocused on the wheel, her grip tightening instinctively as if bracing for the next unseen turn.  

For years, Claire had driven like this—knuckles white, jaw clenched, as though sheer force of will could keep her life on track. She had a map, meticulously drawn, showing how everything should unfold. But the map had burned long ago, leaving her navigating the ashes of her plans.  

First, her marriage shattered—a collision she didn’t see coming until it was too late. Then her career followed, another casualty of the life she thought she was building. Each loss chipped away at her sense of control, leaving her adrift and grasping for something, *anything*, to steady herself.  

She had fought back, of course. Tried to wrestle life into submission. Endless applications, hollow attempts to patch her heart, even a vision board pinned with someone else’s dreams. But the harder she fought, the rougher the road became, the wheel pulling against her grip, the journey bumpier and more exhausting.  

Now, miles from anywhere, she found herself drawn to a sign she hadn’t expected: *Garden of the Gods, Next Exit.*  

The name tugged at something inside her. She didn’t know why, but she took the turn.  

The sun had begun its descent by the time she arrived, bathing the sandstone formations in hues of crimson and gold. She stepped out of the car, the air still and cool, as if the world had paused to let her breathe. Towering spires and weathered arches loomed around her, their surfaces worn smooth by eons of wind and rain.  

Claire wandered the trail, her steps slow and uncertain, the crunch of gravel beneath her feet the only sound. She stopped in front of a formation that rose like a cathedral against the sky, its surface both fragile and invincible. The colors—rusty red, sunlit gold—seemed to pulse with a quiet power, as though the rocks held the secrets of time itself.  

A movement caught her eye. A small snake slithered across the path, its scales shimmering briefly before it disappeared into the crevices of stone. Claire noticed the glint of shed skin it left behind, translucent and fragile under the fading light.  

She stared at it, her breath catching. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? She had been clinging to an old version of herself, one that no longer fit, no longer served her. The pain, the loss, the struggle—it hadn’t been punishment. It had been the shedding of a skin she’d outgrown. Beneath it was something tender and new, something unscarred and alive.  

Her gaze lifted to the formations again, and she saw them differently now—not as obstacles, but as testaments to the power of time and transformation. These rocks, shaped by the winds and water of millions of years, hadn’t fought the forces around them. They had yielded, trusting the process, becoming something breathtaking in return.  

Claire’s shoulders eased. For the first time in years, she felt something close to peace.  

By the time she returned to her car, the sky had deepened to indigo, the first stars peeking through. She slid into the driver’s seat and caught her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hazel eyes glowed, the golden flecks vibrant against the green, which now seemed alive where it had once been muddy. She blinked, startled by the change, and smiled—a real, unguarded smile.  

The road stretched on, and this time, she didn’t fear what lay ahead. She didn’t need a map or a plan. She just needed to trust the road, the wheel steady in her hands, and the quiet, timeless pull of the universe.