The $399 Uber Ride
a Hawaiian Adventure
Hey love,
I’m writing this from Hawaii while my daughter’s volleyball team takes a break between matches.
As I write this, they’ve played two and a half days undefeated, and it’s been such a gift to watch these girls show up, support each other, and play their hearts out.
A few days ago, we had a day off from volleyball, so a group of moms, daughters, and my husband piled into Ubers and headed to Lanikai Beach.
If you’ve never been there, picture white sand, turquoise water, sunshine, laughter, and teenage girls having the absolute best day.
It was beautiful.

And then it was time to leave.
That’s when things got interesting.
A group of us started calling Ubers, and nobody could get a driver.
Every time someone connected with a driver, the driver would cancel.
Every time someone refreshed the app, the prices seemed to go higher.
At one point, Uber wanted to charge $399 to take four people about forty minutes.
Three hundred and ninety-nine dollars.
For an Uber.
And I could feel myself starting to swirl.
Part of me was frustrated because before we came on this trip, I’d suggested renting a car. I had a knowing it would probably be easier and cheaper, but I didn’t choose it. I let other people’s points of view influence my choice, and standing there watching the Uber prices climb, I started going into all the familiar places.
The frustration.
The self-doubt.
The should-have, could-have, would-have.
Meanwhile, everyone around me was trying to find the cheapest possible ride while simultaneously trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.
And the more we all searched, refreshed, canceled, retried, and panicked, the worse it seemed to get.
At some point, as we started walking toward a larger town hoping it would be easier to find a ride, I stopped and asked myself a question:
What is my reality here?
And then another one:
If this wasn’t about the money… because let’s be honest, it’s never really about the money… what would I choose?
The answer came immediately.
I would choose to leave.
I would choose to get us home.
I would choose the ride.
Not because spending hundreds of dollars for an Uber felt exciting, but because spending another hour trapped in frustration and scarcity didn’t feel true for me.
So I opened the app and booked the ride.
Comfort class.
Now $139.
Done.
And the wildest thing happened.

Almost immediately, everyone’s apps started refreshing.
My husband came over and said, “Cancel that ride.”
I told him absolutely not.
We are getting out of here.
Then he showed me his screen.
The same ride was now $58.
Not just for us.
For everyone.
Suddenly people were getting drivers.
People were getting rides.
The whole thing shifted.
And standing there, I had one of those moments where life shows you something much bigger than the thing happening in front of you.
Because a few years ago, I probably would’ve looked at that situation and concluded that my husband had the magic.
That he solved the problem.
But that’s not what I saw this time.
What I saw was someone being willing to stop participating in a reality that wasn’t working.
I saw someone willing to stop spiraling, stop waiting, stop making it about money, and simply choose.
And the moment that happened, space opened.
Maybe it changed the algorithm.
Maybe it changed the energy.
Maybe it changed both.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that the second I chose my reality instead of reacting to everyone else’s, something shifted for all of us.
And honestly, isn’t that true in so many places?
How often do we stay stuck because everyone around us is stuck?
How often do we keep searching for a cheaper, safer, more acceptable option because we’re afraid of making a choice?
How often do we blame money for not choosing something we already know is true for us?
Because if there’s one thing this beach-side Uber adventure reminded me, it’s that money is often the excuse we use when something deeper is going on.
The real question isn’t usually, “Can I afford it?”
The real question is often:
Am I willing to choose it?
And what if your willingness to choose creates possibilities not only for you, but for everyone around you too?
That’s the question I’m leaving Hawaii with.

🌟 Your Add Wonder Tools
Play with these this week:
- Where am I waiting for someone else to create the change I’m aware is possible?
- What reality am I participating in simply because everyone around me is choosing it?
- If I stopped making it about the money, what would I choose?
- Where have I already changed the space around me without acknowledging it?
- And what becomes possible when I choose my reality instead of reacting to everyone else’s?
Until next time, may your Uber be cheap, your beach days be plentiful, and your willingness to choose be stronger than your reasons not to. 🌺✨
With wonder,

Responses