06/01/2026
We began walking as the moon was setting and the sun was rising. It was an embodied liminal moment, caught in that space where darkness gently gives way to light.
The first part of the climb led us through a dense forest. Every step asked for attention. Roots, rocks, and tree trunks became our companions and scaffolding. And the background music? Insects humming, leaves rustling, a river flowing steadily.
Then the forest opened into a grassland. The wind was strong, almost violent. The openness felt bare and honest. There was nowhere to hide. We stood exposed to the wind, the sun, and the presence of distant mountains keeping watch. From there, we could already see the summit.
The final ascent demanded more from our bodies. Laughter gave way to labored breathing and the familiar question: "Are we there yet?" And then, suddenly, we were. At the top, everything looked different. The grassland seemed like a canvas below. The tents and huts looked like dots waiting to be connected. Perspective shifted. Perhaps something within shifted, too?
And then we descended. The path was familiar yet not the same. The same mindfulness was required but now with a new awareness.
A contemplative climb turns physical movement into a spiritual practice. The trail becomes the teacher. The mountain becomes the monastery. What a beautiful way to begin 2026!
Special thanks to this great bunch for listening to the call of the mountain (and for sharing some photos, too!).
Do you hear the mountain calling to you?
