Over the weekend, a friend and I spent the day exploring Rocky Mountain National Park. We didn't have much of an itinerary. We knew we wanted to do some hiking, hopefully see some wildlife, and enjoy the mountains before winter settled in. Beyond that, we figured we'd just see where the day took us.
As it turns out, the timing couldn't have been better.
We happened to visit on the very last day Trail Ridge Road was open for the season, giving us one final opportunity to drive one of the most spectacular stretches of road in the country before the winter closure.
We unexpectedly came upon two moose bathing in a lake, which are notoriously hard to spot in that section of the park. We watched elk during the fall rut, when the males compete for the attention of females by bugling and sparring with their antlers. And everywhere we turned, we were surrounded by the kind of scenery that makes you stop mid-sentence just to take it all in.
At one point, my friend turned to me and said, "I think your superpower is timing."
I laughed, but I've been thinking about that comment ever since.
Because the funny thing is, I hadn't really timed anything. We hadn't planned our day around wildlife sightings or road closures. We simply followed our curiosity, paid attention to how we were feeling, and allowed the day to unfold.
And somehow, it turned into one of those magical days that I couldn't have planned if I'd tried.
The Illusion of Control
Most of us spend an extraordinary amount of energy trying to control our lives. We make plans, set goals, anticipate problems, and do our best to steer things toward the outcomes we want.
And there's nothing inherently wrong with that. Planning gives our lives structure, and having goals keeps us on track and helps us move in meaningful directions.
But sometimes we can become so attached to how things should unfold that we lose the ability to appreciate what's actually happening.
We get frustrated when plans change. We worry about what comes next. We replay what happened yesterday or mentally rehearse what might happen tomorrow.
Meanwhile, the present moment quietly passes us by.
There's freedom in recognizing that we don't have to orchestrate every detail of our lives. Sometimes, the most meaningful experiences arise when we loosen our grip on expectations and become more receptive to what's right in front of us.
Of course, this doesn't mean abandoning our goals or leaving everything to chance. It means learning to distinguish between what we can influence and what we cannot, and becoming a little more comfortable with the uncertainty in between.
What Psychedelics Can Teach Us About Surrender
This idea comes up frequently in my work as a psilocybin facilitator.
People often approach psychedelic experiences with very specific hopes. They want to heal an old wound, find clarity about a relationship, overcome a fear, or finally understand why they've been feeling stuck.
These are all meaningful intentions. In fact, setting an intention is an important part of preparing for a psychedelic journey.
But there's a subtle and important distinction between having an intention and being attached to an expectation.
An intention gives us direction. An expectation tells us how we think the experience should unfold.
And psychedelic experiences have a way of challenging those expectations.
Sometimes the experience is beautiful and expansive. Other times it's confusing, emotionally challenging, or nothing like what the person imagined.
One of the most valuable lessons in psychedelic work is learning to approach the experience with curiosity rather than control. To allow whatever arises to be there, without immediately trying to change it, interpret it, or push it away.
Of course, surrender doesn't guarantee a pleasant experience or a particular outcome. It's not about trusting that everything will go exactly as we want.
It's about developing the capacity to meet whatever arises with greater openness, flexibility, and compassion.
And that's a skill that extends far beyond psychedelic therapy.
Making Room for the Unexpected
I've been reflecting on how often we approach life with the assumption that more planning, more effort, and more control will lead to better outcomes.
Don’t get me wrong…sometimes it does.
But I also wonder how many meaningful experiences we miss because we're so focused on making things happen that we forget to let things happen.
What might change if we approached more of our lives with the same openness we brought to that day in the mountains?
If we held our plans a little more loosely, allowed ourselves to be surprised, and made more room for curiosity and wonder?
We might discover that not every moment needs to be productive, every experience needs to have a purpose, or every uncertainty needs to be resolved.
And we might find that some of life's most memorable moments are the ones we never saw coming.
I don't know if timing is really my superpower. But I do know that our day in Rocky Mountain National Park reminded me of something I sometimes need to relearn:
We can't always control what life puts in front of us, but we can choose how we show up for it.
And perhaps the real magic isn't in being in the right place at the right time.
It's in being present enough to recognize it when we are.
