Before I married into this wonderful Alaskan fishing family, I was the kind of person whose gait was more like jog than a stride. The type of gal whose grasp of each day came with the tellings of a well-scrawled calendar; who made and re-scheduled appointments like a circus juggler; and whose concept of down-time came mostly in the form of 15-minute epsom salt baths once, maybe twice, per week.
In sum, for me, time has always been something of a speed demon, weaving the moments of my life together with a sense of urgency, with deadlines and certainly not enough rest. Time has always snuck up on me like a mischievous prankster, pretending to be there until it wasn’t, vanishing from me like the vapors in my baths.
Until I experienced Alaska. The place where time has a boss and her name is mother nature, with her inarguable curriculum that tells me each day to slow down. A place where during the summer time seems to double itself, turning entire days into epochs, stretching its sunshine into a constant state of more. Where the cold winter months swap all that light for a sparkling snowfall and neon palette sunrises that creep into view well after you’ve had your morning coffee.
In Alaska, I always feel like time melts into purpose and possibility. Instead of hustling me into action, it reminds me to observe. To sharpen my awareness, keep my mind open and free so that I can have more bandwidth to notice everything. Like recently, when I was hiking back from a glacier with my husband Arron (WAC founder + CEO) and we heard the snap of a twig, which he immediately knew meant that a wild animal might be nearby (which turned out to be a black bear).
But most importantly, Alaska nudges me to bow my head to time, to thank it. And to remain in a state of living gratitude for the experience of its cycles, which inform our lives and direct our behavior. Alaska shows me how to revel in the moments between the moments, to linger in the liminality of each day — and inspires me to dance with time, rather than try to speed alongside its momentum.
Wherever you are, I hope you will be inspired to keep the wisdom of Alaska in your own pocket, as you move through the bustle that comes with new seasons.
Live Wild!
Monica
Pictured above: A moment of unbelievable serendipity on Kachemak Bay earlier this summer, when time seemed to stand completely still so that I could capture a sudden choreography of seagulls against this hint of a rainbow.
