If there’s one thing I refuse to let adulthood steal from me, it’s wonder. I’m a relentless seeker of sparkle—the kind that hides in plain sight and only reveals itself when you’re willing to pause, breathe, and actually see.
Most people miss the magic. It’s just out of their line of sight, tucked above, below, or behind the obvious. All it takes is a shift in perspective to discover something extraordinary, even on the toughest days.
A few years ago, I found myself smack in the middle of a personal storm. Divorce papers were still fresh. My ex and I were doing our awkward “play nice for the grandparents” routine on one last so-called “family trip.” To top it off, we were staying at The Broadmoor in Colorado Springs—the exact spot we’d spent our two-day honeymoon years before. That irony was not lost on me.
As the tension built, I wrangled my restless kids and set off to explore the sprawling, historic hotel. The Broadmoor is a wonderland of old-world charm, secret nooks, and unexpected art—if you know where to look. My kids darted from chair to couch, making themselves at home, while I searched for something to lift the heaviness off my chest.
My oldest daughter squeezed my hand. She recognized the look: Mom on the hunt for a little magic. She’s seen it before—me refusing to let hard times harden my heart.
And then, as if on cue, I looked up and found it. High above, hidden among ornate panels on the ceiling, was a hand-painted unicorn—elegant, luminous, practically winking at me. Unicorns have always been my symbol of hope and possibility, the reminder that it’s okay (even necessary) to be the odd one, the dreamer, the magic-seeker.
I snapped a quick photo, but what I really wanted was to share this with my kids. “Look up!” I called, kneeling so they could see the ceiling through my eyes. That’s when the domino effect started. Other guests glanced up, caught off guard by something they’d missed entirely. Suddenly, a lobby full of strangers started searching for hidden treasures overhead.
And it didn’t stop with the unicorn. All around us were dozens of paintings—whimsical, wild, each one different, each one waiting to be found by someone curious enough to notice.
My kids got the bug instantly. They started finding glimmers of wonder everywhere: the way sunlight bent through a stained-glass window, the tiny carvings on a bannister, a fleeting rainbow reflected on polished marble. None of it was staged. None of it was obvious. You had to look for it.
That’s the real lesson, isn’t it? Magic rarely lands in your lap. Wonder doesn’t announce itself. You have to slow down, look up, look down, and make space for it to surprise you. Those hidden moments—those “unseen” gifts—can shift everything, if you let them.
So, wherever you are today, try it. Change your vantage point. Hunt for something beautiful right in your ordinary. You never know what life-changing magic is waiting, just out of your usual view.
