How often do you wait for the perfect moment to do something? Taking a vacation? Starting a new exercise regime? Taking a new job? Or, something else? What makes you continue to wait, and wait, and wait?   

On a beautiful fall day, friends gathered to hike a more technical route up a 14,000 ft mountain in Colorado based an hour outside Denver. The week prior we discussed the general length (miles to hike), elevation gain, what time we wanted to start, and hiking gear to bring. Our route required some easy technical climbing skills yet nothing that would put us into situations requiring a rope or more technical mountaineering gear. Our group wanted to test our skills over more advanced terrain moving through a section called the knife edge. All the basics discussed for a group who have previously hiked and climb together would discuss. During the week, our excitement for the day kept building and building.  

Between our discussion and actual day to hike up, Colorado mountains unexpectedly received their first snow fall.  

Starting before dawn, we were unable to see the ridge line or full route when we began hiking. It would take around 1.5 to 2 hours before hitting the more technical aspects. As the first rays of sun warmed our faces, the alpine pink glow showed more snow and less rock along the ridge line. Humm. This is going to be interesting. We agreed to keep evaluating conditions as we continued hiking.  

Soon we were using hands and feet to climb over exposed rocks and post holing through deep snow. None of us had mountaineering gear even though we were all trained. While left unstated, you could feel the fear each of us had moving forward. Is this the right thing to do? Should we turn around? Am I going to die?  

Face fears first.  

We stopped and discussed. How can we figure our way through this? How do we work as a team?  

Thinking quickly, we sought to figure out how to use our gear in a different manner. Use our hiking poles as a mountaineering axe, go slow and steady, assist each other through various sections. Each person spoke to what was going on deep inside their head. Our fears unraveled into a comfortable path in the uncertain steps ahead. 

As we were sitting, our friend George, took off a glove and placed it next to him. Within seconds his heavy, thick warm glove slid 2000 feet along on the 45 degree snow down the side of the mountain never to be seen again. While George laughed keeping a light hearted nature, Linda quickly lashed out, and that’s how you can easily die, too. Linda calmed herself and said, putting any of us into a rescue situation is also dangerous. We must all move together swiftly and carefully noting where we place each foot as to not accidentally slide down 2000 feet into the valley below. George agreed.  

Our group forged forward with fresh focus.  

As you experience new situations, transformation is natural and may come with pain. Yet, you choose whether the transformation is a welcome change or a disruptive mess.  

From this point forward, our hike turned into a mountaineering adventure slowly traversing up rocks covered in snow with steep edges on either side. Falling was not an option for death was sure to ensue. We took ownership of how we wanted to move forward as a team.  

This process became a game of lead, trust, and checking in.  

Right now, what in your life requires contemplation and checking in? Where have you waited for the perfect conditions to bring forward your deepest heart felt desires?  

Stop waiting. Take ownership of your life. Step forward and lead the way towards where you want to be.  

Oh, and yes, we reached the mountain summit never realizing we climbed right through and over the Knife’s Edge in deep snow to get there. We laughed and giggled on how we quickly adapted to the situation, addressed our fears, and build trust in each other garnishing on each other’s strengths.  

Wishing you an abundant, joyful, and prosperous day! 

Lora Polowczuk 

Chief Energy Officer 


© 2022. Lora Polowczuk. All Rights Reserved.