Memories

Just as the snow slowly melts away, memories vanish. What will remain of this entire adventure when spring arrives? I've undoubtedly gained new skills, become more decisive, and heightened my awareness of everything happening in the present moment. More than physical endurance, my mind and consciousness have gained clarity in the way I perceive and interpret things. Nature, especially in its pristine state, is an ideal setting to discover personal truths. Nature has no intentions or specific will; it's my actions that can lead to mistakes. I learned, if not to relish, then to accept harsh conditions—bitter crosswinds, storms, biting gusts... The mind finds peace when it stops seeking answers. I swiftly relinquished my fears, the urge to fight and conquer, but there's no contest. Only this moment is real—it deserves attention, stacking up to form what we call life. Goals and missions gradually faded away; I didn't seek destinations, just enjoyed the sound of snow under my skis… Decisions about stopovers and overnight stays arose naturally, without fuss or rigid planning—guided by circumstances and the prevailing emotions.

But what lies ahead? And will this dream fade away like snow, leaving behind these notes that already form memories, already an interpretation of what actually transpired? Most likely, it will fade, but new moments will emerge. "Would I act the same, or would my choices be similar if human memory didn't exist?" my son once asked. Most probably, yes.