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It’s time for a little bit of an adventure.
For the past four years, close friends have invited the same group of us to their ski lodge in Japan. It’s a week of being together — skiing for most (not me and my knee), planned and unplanned adventures, and long stretches of catching up with people we don’t see nearly often enough.
Each year, the week ends with the same quiet hope: that we’ll all be healthy enough, and life will cooperate enough, for us to do it again next year. Some of us stay connected in small ways throughout the year. Others, we wait twelve months to see. That makes the time feel especially precious.
The view from the lodge never gets old — snow-covered mountains, the slope right outside the windows, skiers and snowboarders carving their way down all day long. It’s one of those moments you know you’ll carry with you. A privilege, really.
Our little adventure.
I’m hoping to have knee replacement surgery this year. And for the first time ever, I’m thinking about trying to ski.
This is not a natural leap for me. I don’t roller skate, I don’t ice skate, and I avoid anything that requires balance on a moving surface. But as I watch my friends ride the lift together and head off on group adventures, I feel the absence more sharply now. I put this off for a long time. And maybe it will go terribly wrong — that’s possible. Still, I want to try.
That’s what this season of life keeps asking of us: to take the chances we want to take, even when they scare us a little.
The list of things we’re afraid of has a way of growing as we age. Physical limits. Uncertainty. Risk. If we’re not careful, that list can quietly shrink our lives. Fear isn’t worth that.
Even getting here is an act of commitment — long flights, unfamiliar language, a six-hour bus ride this year that my knee definitely did not enjoy. But we did it together, and that made it part of the fun.
Selfie photo! The bus ride was a tight fit for Steve and I. But still worth the group trip.
Once here, we share everything. Cooking meals, trying new restaurants and old favorites, navigating the chaos of twelve people grocery shopping at once. We found soft-serve ice cream in the middle of what felt like a blizzard. We played Scrabble and question games that made us think too hard. We soaked in hot tubs and laughed late into the night.
And then there’s time.
It moves too fast. It’s already Day Five, and the end is in sight. Only so many meals left. Only so many ski runs, games, and quiet moments together. That awareness is bittersweet.
But mostly, I feel grateful.
Grateful that we said yes. Grateful for friendships that endure time and distance. Grateful for bodies that still allow us to show up — and hopeful that next year, mine will let me try something new.
When life offers you moments like this, the real risk isn’t taking the chance.
It’s letting fear talk you out of living the life that’s still very much waiting for you.
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