Lessons from the Inca Trail: Kindness, Grit, and Purposeful Living

Eight years ago today, Cacey and I set out on a journey that forever etched itself into my soul — the trek along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. I was not quite fifty, and she was only fourteen. Among our group of twelve trekkers, I was the eldest and she the youngest, with the rest mostly in their twenties and thirties. Out of playful respect, our team was named “Hangry Mama.”

What Challenged Me Most

From the very beginning, the mountain tested me. Cusco, resting at nearly 12,000 feet above sea level, welcomed me not with wonder but with a pounding headache, dizziness, and waves of nausea that left me confined to the hotel, inhaling oxygen just to make it through the hours. I was too weak to explore the city. Yet two days later, when we stood at the base of the mountain ready to begin, I was still unwell. I began to vomit before the first step was even taken.

The guide pulled me aside. “If you cannot continue, it’s better to stop now. Once we are in the mountains, evacuation will be costly and difficult, if you get really sick.”

My friend Maritza comforted me that she would look after Cacey if I chose to stay behind. The decision was placed before me like a stone on the path. I looked at Cacey. Fourteen years old, full of curiosity and determination, her eyes fixed on me and said, “Ma, it’s ok if you can’t continue.” Within me, I said to myself, “I didn’t come this far to quit. What kind of example would I set for her if I turned back now?” So I pressed on.

The first day was difficult, but nothing compared to the second — the ascent to Dead Woman’s Pass, nearly 14,000 feet high. I stumbled, chewing coca leaves constantly, stopping often to breathe through an oxygen canister. Each step felt heavier than the last.

The Kindness That Carried Me

Alex, the strongest of our group, a young man who had completed Ironman races, could have easily raced to the summit. Instead, he chose to walk beside me. With his arm steadying me, along with his humor and encouragement, he lifted me one step at a time. It was humility, compassion, and kindness in action.

When we finally reached the camp at the end of the day, the others had already settled in. Alex and I arrived last. I was exhausted, tears streaming down my face, but I had made it. With help, with grit, with love.

Wonder & Openness at Machu Picchu

On the third day, we entered Machu Picchu. I was awestruck. The design and the stones—fitted with such precision that not even a blade of grass could slide between them—seemed almost otherworldly. I found myself wondering: was this truly the work of human hands alone? Some dismiss the idea of “aliens” with a roll of their eyes, but I have always questioned why. Too often the mind closes too quickly; we call “impossible” what we simply do not yet understand.

That day, standing in the mist of the Andes, I realized something: life, like Machu Picchu, is a wonder built stone by stone, by endurance and by mystery. We are not meant to explain it all — we are meant to walk it, to struggle through it, to be lifted by others, and to remain open to possibilities beyond what our eyes can see.

7 Inca Trail Lessons I Brought Home

• Start slower than you think; finish stronger than you knew.
• Kindness compounds—accept help, then pass it on.
• Train the mind for the hard parts, not just the legs.
• Purpose is fuel when energy runs low.
• Share the load; teamwork beats pride.
• Celebrate small wins; every pass is a summit.
• Tell the story—your lessons can lift someone else.

Gratitude & Purposeful Living

Even now, eight years later, I am deeply grateful for the kindness Alex extended to me. His choice to slow down, to lend strength when I had none, gave me more than hope—it gave me a model for how I want to live.

Imagine if each of us carried that same spirit into daily life—choosing to pause, help, and encourage someone who is struggling. Those small acts, multiplied across countless moments, can transform not just individuals but communities.

This, to me, is the essence of purposeful living: to recognize that our struggles are not only ours to bear, but invitations to receive and extend grace. Kindness is not small; it is mighty—capable of building bridges, lifting spirits, and reshaping the world.

P.S. If you would like to learn more about Machu Picchu and Inca Trail, please visit the official Machu Picchu website.