I am in love with everything here except for time, which unfortunately seems to exceed the natural limit, marking the transience of every journey.
I wrote these words halfway to realizing that we were completely lost on a mountainside looking over the city of Bergen, Norway. For me, a person who naturally feels secure in the wilderness and my unstable sense of direction, I was in harmony with the falling rain, the splashes my boots made in the muddy path (at least I thought we were on a path until I was proven wrong), and the promise that we would soon be high enough on the mountain to see where we came from. When we reached the summit of this mountain, one of seven in the Bergen area, we did not see what was expected. I urged the group onward in the pretense that once we made it to the top of this peak, we would be able to see where we road the gondola up to a smaller mountaintop and we could find our way back to the start. Instead what we saw was the continuation of luscious green forests, thin waterfalls streaming from cliffs, and a dense coat of fog stabilized in the valley beneath us.
This is where I learned how this moment ties into the rest of my life. Being lost is an opportunity, and wandering is a virtue. The ephemerality of our journeys is not a curse, and our longing to return is a blessing. When every journey is connected in a web of moments worth living, you construct a life that is truly special.