Great things are passed along through word of mouth. Grandma’s recipes, secret home remedies, and the best places to see.
It started with my friend Alicia. “Have you heard of Elfin Lakes?” She piped up as she did her usual morning walk by on the way to her desk. After about 10 minutes of talking about this magical place, I was set. I would be making the trek up to the little cabin at some point in the near future whether or not I had friends to do it with me.
Once I have my mind set that I’m going to do something – you better believe I’m going to do it. There are certain things I won’t ever fully commit to, because they aren’t what I’m actually passionate about, and I have to be okay with that. I will always follow through on the things that make me come alive – like climbing a mountain, hurling myself on top of a peak, breathing deeply, fully present to it’s raw beauty. That’s my sweet spot.
Have you ever had something completely take your breath away? A moment so strong that you can’t say anything at all, but you stay captivated, awe-struck by it’s compelling hold on you. I’ve learned to surrender, and remember that in that day, that minute, that second, it is the most important moment I’ve ever had.
And there may be another one just like it again tomorrow. In fact- I hope that there is. I hope my entire life is made up of those moments.
Our little Elfin Lakes posse started with group texts and jokes about finding a Sasquatch, and ended up being one of those awe-striking remember for life memories that I will return to when I want something to make me smile. My wish for my life and those who surround me is that we are constantly making those moments, the best ones, every chance we get.
Sometimes creating those moments means participating to a point where you step outside of what you thought was your comfort zone, making your heart beat a little faster, doing something you wouldn’t normally do.
I used to live in an incredibly safe life. I had every thing calculated and planned. I was a good home-maker and budgeter, and I thought saying no to experiences was being in control of my life. I said no and watched while others went on trips and ventured around instead of figuring out a way to make them happen for myself. My priorities were a list of things others told me to start. Maybe back then, while I was being so responsible, I didn’t even realize I wanted those things.
I briefly lived in Merritt, following love, unemployed and gallivanting around the Okanagan, when something awoke in me. It was a fiery passion that I could make my life full of whatever moments I truly wanted. Although that self-discovery came through very painful circumstances, as it usually does, the desire to live the best life I could possibly live held my hand as I believed for the future I wanted to create.
Hiking through the tops of mountains across a snowy ridge, sliding down saddles on crazy carpets and snow shovels with incredibly beautiful, inspiring people.
Drinking boxed wine, crafting cheesy avocado sandwiches on the snow of a downhill slope.
Every mountain I climb, every adventure I have means something so important to my soul that probably no other human could ever understand, and that’s what makes it so special. It’s a secret I have the with the trees, sunsets and stars I gaze at as I listen to ocean waves crash. It’s nothing that can be interpreted or fully communicated to the person beside me, who may be experiencing something so very personal at the same time. The magic is in making space for the moments to speak, in letting it be the very best thing we’ve ever felt – over and over again. That’s why I love moments, and also – memories.
When we approached Elfin lakes cabin, I felt like we were in another world.
A secluded spot far off from any cell phone tower, electrical outlet or confining circumstance, we could just be. Everyone who rocked up to the cabin was greeted with a warm smile, and for the night we were all a community with one common interest; a love for the commanding presence of the wild.
Climbing over that first ridge and becoming submerged in the view that would be my playground brought silence to my lips. As we walked across the ridge line through the crunching snow, meters of it below our feet, the magic captivated us. Suddenly we weren’t in the wild, but we were the wild, and it was us.
And in that moment, it was the best moment I’d ever had.