Imagine you spent your day out skiing in the alpine with your best friend and her lover. The previous day, you hauled delicious food, like minestrone and vegan, gluten free chocolate cake, back along a creek in a valley and up a forested slope, about nine kilometers in and one thousand meters up. Step by step, breath by breath. You admired the rising moon over the mountains, almost full. You are in a national park in British Columbia, Canada, and your best friend has snatched the last three remaining spots in a small wooden cabin, high up in the alpine. You love this place. You came here together with friends three years ago. It was where you first kissed your previous partner, skinning up a glacier on a glorious day. Now you are back, in this magical alpine wonderland. Your friend’s lover is exhausted. You share the cabin with three sweet Scandinavians. Upon arrival, it turns out that the propane system of the cabin, which provides for heat, cooking and light, is not properly working. And so the team building begins, valves are being turned, propane tanks shoveled out (in this case, luckily there was not much snow), “Santa” Claude from the Alpine Club Canada in Canmore talks you through different steps, until you all together figure it out. There is warmth and food and light, almost three hours later. Together you enjoy delicious gourmet dinner, share stories, stretches and massages and then curl up into your sleeping bags. You get the sweet spot, the lower bunk of the bed which is a little secluded in a corner. You like having your own space, if that can be considered as such in a small alpine loft cabin, where there actually is only one room. The night is lit by the glowing moon. Snowy surfaces are drenched in reflecting silver. You are content. The last few weeks were rough. You got back to this small mountain town where your heart and soul feel so home. You were so happy, so sure, radiant. You were starting your own business, reconnecting with the land and community, teaching Yoga, dipping in the river daily, falling in love, and loving life. And then life shook the earth you were just rooting into. A significant inheritance you expected was delayed until spring. Something did not feel quite right for that man. Starting a flourishing business takes more than a few weeks. Ancient shadows were dancing with you, pulling you down and stretching you apart. You cried pretty much every day. It was dark, it was intense. Your powerful mind went down many rabbit holes, old stories, maybe not even yours. Stories of being too much and not good enough, of failing and disappointing. Walking across the bridge to and from your dipping spots, and hearing the sound of the train, brought in thoughts of how it would be to leave this body. And this time in the alpine, together with your best friend, offers a breath of fresh air, a deeply needed change of perspective.

The air is fresh, literally. On Christmas eve, it is a crisp, clear, beautiful day. None of the crevasses of the glaciers are filled in enough to ski, so you choose your lines in mellower terrain. Areas which are usually covered by meters of snow are rocky this year. You still gain some altitude above the cabin, and ski two laps in surprisingly high quality snow. The feeling of being in the alpine, high up, surrounded by glistening white, rocky peaks, under a sky so blue, with white feather clouds like painted, skiing sweet turns, with your best friend and excellent company, brings a sense of aliveness back into your heart, soul and bones. Your second skintrack leads you to the top of a pass, a place unknown to you. From there, you can see the entire area where you usually tour, and new perspectives open up into a mythical valley of big mountains and old growth trees. It is a powerful place, and you all sit down for a moment of meditation to feel the mountains and listen. You could stay there for much longer, the colors slowly start to shift into sunset orange pink gold. The days are short around the winter solstice. Skiing down is so fun! Giggles and purrs of joy and pleasure escape your mouth, a wide grin spreads over your face. You take turns in leading, and find fun little lines. You get back to the cabin in this joyful bliss, as the sky around you darkens. You approach the beautiful wooden structure, and the shape of a male figure appears through the window, and the energy feels different than the Scandinavian man’s. You open the door, and yes, it is a different man.