The smell did it. No. The idea of the smell. That’s what got me cleaning my MSR stoves. The smell of waking up
in the middle of the night to the promise of a few brews, of snow collected in a stuff bag the night before,
topping up the slurry of slow melting. I am not taken to any particular mountain, any particular people when
I feel this. It is the Essence of the Climb I breathe in, each and every cell rejuvenated. The reaching and landing in
Life here and now.
The moment needed my full attention on a mountain, as I realise it does, here and now,
in Natimuk, sitting on the pergola, with the air con droning, the mozzies needling my legs, the harvest trucks
on their way to a silo, the wind chiming the bamboo, the frog concert on the creek, and one dog barking sporadically on
the other side of Main Street. Some bells nearby suddenly light up the night. There must be a possum atop the pergola struts.
It soooo is….
The stove is coming with me. No matter where I am going, it will be the unknown all around. A shiver
down my back. Another level in relationships, with my beloved husband and with my family in Nepal, my village,
all soon to be our family, our village… add to that the huge privilege to introduce the participants on
this wedding trek of ours to a life full of sharing , joy and growing, ourselves and others and
the world. It is all about expansion.
You can become part of the story HERE
Be Well, Do Well.