It’s no secret, at least for anyone who knows me, that I’m a morning person. A serious morning person. I’m one of those people who gets up at 4:00 a.m. every morning, even when I don’t “have” to. Not sure why, but I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. Add a cup or two of coffee to the mix and there is an energy explosion going on. Not so much fun for people who get up at a more normal hour and find me well launched into the day.
We’ve had some pretty spectacular sunrises lately in Seattle because it hasn’t been raining and there has actually been … sun! There’s something about the light that always seems so magical to me. Promises of the day’s possibilities. If I’m lucky enough to catch the sun coming up over the Cascade Mountains during my morning walk I’m always reminded of some of the incredible mornings I’ve spent IN the mountains – not just looking at them from a distance.
This past week those sunrises have had me thinking about a morning high up in a small village in the Annapurna Range in Nepal. I was awake early – really early. Before sunrise. My trekmate was still asleep, as were the mice in our room (finally!) who had been rustling around all night, in and out of our duffel bags, feasting on our supply of snacks. The only sounds were those of a tiny Nepalese village waking up. I was lucky enough to have a bed by the window that looked out onto the Annapurnas. That morning, nestled in layers of down, I witnessed the entire sunrise – from stars like you’ve never seen in your life to the sun slowly rising on the Himalayas. The Himalayas! It was one of those moments in my life when I was so profoundly grateful for everything that had made it possible for me to be there. There really are no words.
Like most – no – ALL goals, it takes a lot of steps to get from the dream to reality. The hours of carefully planned out training. The support I had from so many friends and family to make it possible for me to go. I first went to Nepal in 1978. That’s a LONG time ago people! It’s a place that grabbed my heart and I never stopped wanting to go back. It took 34 years, but I made it. Not just in 2012, but again in 2014.
The picture doesn’t begin to do justice to the real gift of that morning. The journey. Never give up on your dreams!
