We lived together during three weeks of intense work (mostly for them).
If you asked them what they do in life, probably they will answer something like:
Well, we research about different un-skied mountains and go there, we climb them and ski them down for the first time.
Because, yes, a day of work implies that, after checked weather conditions, they put on all their magical, resistant and colorful clothes, fasten their harnesses and backpacks full of mysteries and then, jump into the car to go the closest they can to the mountain chosen for that day.
Once at the base of the mountain they start walking-climbing it up and, when they finally reach the summit, I imagine them sitting and enjoying the view for a while, eating something -just for the adrenaline to come up a little bit more- until finally the best moment of the day comes: the moment when they jump into the void, flying down the hill into the known-unknown, trying to be one with the snow, trying to conquered the mountain but also, sometimes –when things fall apart- trying to conquered their ego and life itself.
After those weeks with them I understood the metaphor.
Not only mountains can fall apart. “Avalanches” sometimes are made of something more than just snow.
Because now, I feel a big part of myself is dying.
It seems like I´m leaving behind a chapter, I´m moving forward and further inside this book. It seems like a part of me is disappearing giving space for the new that´s coming. And it seems like something big.
My friends deal, every day of their life with risk, adrenaline, velocity, cold and loneliness. They are truly adventurers. And they helped me to understand the metaphors of life. The symbols behind everything we do.
For them, real mountains are there to go and conquer them. But for me those mountains are a reflex of what, sometimes, I live inside of myself. And have the chance to see them conquering everyday a new mountain, makes me feel admiration for them and makes me feel inspired to go and try it on my own.