I like to think that this crazy year will be a catalyst for a massive outpouring of gratitude. A realisation of how epic our ‘normal’ lives are.
I’ve walked through enough dark times to become someone who seldom takes the good stuff for granted. It’s rare for me not to notice, and not to take a moment to breathe it in. But I guess this year has reminded me just how damn good life is.
This afternoon I found myself thinking back to this time last year, when, on a whim, I headed to the mountains to catch up with my awesome friend Nat. The trip was sparked by one of those epic & dangerous conversations when an idea is planted for an adventure that is impossible to ignore.
Nat was working in Morzine and we were both sharing how badly we wanted to see the new year in with some kind of outdoor magic. A new years celebration that didn’t involve any alcohol or staying up late - in fact, our plan involved a super early night and a ridiculously early morning.
It was one of those days you will never forget.
I think our alarm went off at about 5.20am - which, in the middle of the winter, in the middle of the mountains feels like the middle of the night. We’d excitedly packed our gear the night before, so we stumbled sleepily down the stairs and de-iced the windscreen whilst trying not to get distracted by the incredible star-filled sky above us.
We met the rest of the crew at the bottom of the mountain and started our mission up the hill. The air was still and oh so cold. But within minutes of the climb, we were pulling off hats & gloves, forgetting just how much hard work was involved in hiking up a mountain with boards strapped to our backs.
As we made our way up we stopped from time to time to just breathe it all in. The vastness of the view. The changing light. The fierce beating of our hearts as we pushed upwards.
We neared the summit and the sky started to explode with colour. Pinks and oranges emerging from the blue. Welcoming in a new year with lungfuls of fresh fresh air and ridiculous grins on our faces.
The run down just as sweet - with the mountain to ourselves, and the day just beginning to unfold. Back home we made stacks of pancakes for breakfast, devouring them in minutes and making plans for the rest of the day.
It was late arvo when we headed back up for one more fix - and for a moment I will never forget.
The last run of the day - the lifts had stopped and the sun was beginning to set. We purposely chose the long way down, to eek out every bit of magic before the day was done.
I think we were about halfway down when mother nature just did her thing and blew us away all over again. The light was i-n-c-r-e-d-i-b-l-e . We stopped and just sat in awe. Other folk were zipping past us down the mountain but we were fixated with how insanely beautiful the sky was.
It was this visceral experience - feeling overwhelmed by the outstanding beauty of this planet we call home. Feeling unbelievably grateful to be in that moment, under that sky, on that mountain. I remember it so clearly - this wholeness, this aliveness, this immense feeling of wonder.
The sun was long gone by the time we got to the bottom. We were giddy with excitement from the raddest day. With sore muscles and cold toes we headed to a little bar in the village for celebratory frites & demi-peche.
I left early the next morning, back to Geneva to stock up on good Swiss chocolate and then a flight home and a day to unpack, do laundry and start planning for the year ahead.
Yep - I’m feeling all the nostalgia feels. But mainly I’m feeling stoked. For the adventures we have been on, and all the adventures to come. If this year has taught me anything, it’s that we should always say yes to those crazy ideas. Yes to the last minute missions. Yes to the unknown paths and the foreign lands.
Happy. Thank you. More please.