In December, just after welcoming in the winter and the opportunity to slow down, I hopped a plane to Patagonia, where the summer days last until 10pm, the mountains offer endless opportunity for adventure, and the people kiss your cheek in greeting as warm as their smiles.

I did not slow down…. quite the opposite.

For one month I pursued various passions that drew me back to this incredible place: co-instructing a “Backpacking and Service” course for the North Carolina Outward Bound School, exploring and pushing my abilities climbing rock, trail, and volcano, practicing Spanish, doing research and networking to set up a therapeutic adventure retreat in January of 2017 (check out more about this endeavor at Aspen Roots Collective).

And then I was home again, and the sky was dumping snow, and I was baking bread and sitting by a fire with friends.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale….

Sometimes I get stuck in one side of the balance, in expelling my energy outwardly towards high peaks, new friends, late nights, and growing a business…. And maybe a month will pass, or more, but inevitably the crash comes. If I am not ahead of the game, it comes in the form of irritability, restlessness, or even tears.

I am learning. (Aren’t we all?)

Learning to identify when to stop, when to look up at the stars and stare, to breath without the requirement of moving my legs in some direction, to go inward and tend to the needs of my various pieces of self.

This balance of breath is my focus for the year. Not a resolution, but a subject to explore and experience with greater awareness and a student’s mind. I find the latter promotes curiosity, whereas the former usually includes guilt.

Upon returning from this adventure, I crashed into my life at home, confused and jolted by the transition back to winter and the sky darkening at 5pm, back to a job, a house, a husband, a language I actually understand (usually). I burrowed into my comforter and hid against the world for a bit. For me, this is the inhale, the gathering of energy and drawing inward.

The inhale can last too long as well, and when I finally drug myself out of the house to visit some of my spots around town (the gym, the coffee shop, the grocery store), I inevitably perked up by simply running into friends… into my community (exhale).

After two weeks my breath is flowing a bit more smoothly, inhaling the dark evenings by the fire and walks on the trail, exhaling therapy sessions, dates with friends, and the many ways in which I share in this life with others.

I have a sense the year will teach me much about not only the inhale and the exhale, but also, and maybe more importantly, the movement from one to the other.

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