Torres Del Paine

Camping in Torres del Paine National Park in Chile was an incredible experience. It pushed my limits physically; we had two 8 hour-long trek days totaling in over 37 km (22 miles). I am not an experienced hiker, but I found the Torres and French Valley treks not at all as difficult as I had imagined they would be, and they both had incredible viewpoints that awaited us at the summit. I related hiking to people’s experience with running; for them, it is a form of meditation, a way to clear their mind and just allow the body to move itself automatically. I had plenty of time in those hours to hike in silence and was easily able to switch off all the thoughts in my head as I stayed focused on the trail. Hiking also gave me time to think about just about everything in a clear and non-emotionally cluttered way. I realized how people can become life-long hiking addicts in seeking both the adrenaline and the meditative reflection that comes with experiencing the outdoors in such a physically demanding way.

FullSizeRender (25)
Sunset in Puerto Natales, Chile.
FullSizeRender (29)
Grey Glacier icebergs at Grey Lake.
FullSizeRender (27)
Grey Glacier in the background, Torres del Paine.
FullSizeRender (31)
Beautiful yet bizarre Patagonian cloud formations.
FullSizeRender (30)
Paine Massif pink sunset after 18 hours of daylight.
FullSizeRender (34)
View of the Torres tours after a 5 hour long hike along the Torres trek.
FullSizeRender (32)
Peering into the valley at the end of the French Valley trek.
Panorama of the French Valley.
Panorama of the French Valley.
FullSizeRender (33)
The lagoon’s piercing blue color comes from the minerals of the glaciers.
IMG_1610
The Paine Massif.

And now I’ve made it to 2016. It’s New Year’s Day, and the city of Punta Arenas (four hours drive from Puerto Natales, the home base of Torres Del Paine National Park) is a ghost town. We were warned that the Chileans close everything on New Year’s Day, and they weren’t kidding; merely two restaurants and a cafe are open in the vicinity to our hotel, and not a single store, bank, or supermarket is open. So today is a much needed day of rest in Patagonia.

My first reaction as I looked back on this past year was that so much has happened, too much, and it’s truly mind blowing. It was a year of so many changes, new experiences, and hardships. I thought, if I continue at this pace each year, I would certainly burn out by the age of 35. This year was a roller coaster on every level. But I am grateful for all the highs, the lows, and of the swinging pendulum of feeling secure and of being thrust into the unknown.

I traveled and then I came home. I celebrated the coming of 2015 on a small island called Maya Bay in Koh Phi Phi in Thailand, sleeping directly under the stars on an empty beach with only 30 others to see the gorgeous sunrise with me. I was completely engulfed in nature and in beauty, and although I didn’t know exactly what I would be doing with my life, I had the reassurance of my immediate next steps, which was going back to New York to begin working full time for a startup. I spent the rest of January in Cambodia and Vietnam, and despite the career that awaited me, I came home to a freezing February storm completely heartbroken. I had spent the previous six months traveling on and off across three continents. I didn’t spend nearly enough time in Southeast Asia to achieve any sort of closure in my adventures, and upon my return I didn’t have a chance to process what I experienced. And so one of the many reasons why I am taking the time now in South America is because I made that mistake a year ago.

I worked and then I didn’t. I began working at the startup in February and dove right in, kicking off in San Francisco for two weeks with the startup’s founder. I learned what it took to grow a company from the ground up, and I also learned of the risks involved in joining a tech startup while it was merely a seedling. Unfortunately this startup, among the 99% of new businesses, had come to a standstill, and I had to leave. And so I decided to reset and travel to another region I had yet to explore.

Friendships showed me more about myself than ever before. Some old friends faded, some were rekindled from the past, and some grew even stronger, becoming family. My friends are growing into themselves by taking different paths, some of them intersecting with mine, and all of them beautiful and scary in their own right. It’s been fascinating to watch my friends grow up in such a variety of ways, and it’s given me the chance to evaluate my priorities and how I fit into the conventional cycle of adulthood. This year was also marked by a new set of people that entered my life; I found community in a group of people who share similar values, who are there to help me, and who embrace the path I am taking. Through these friends I expanded my world of music, dance, spiritual practice, and self expression. I went to Burning Man for the first time, and learned what it was like to live completely in the present.

I have struggled with family, those whom I share my flesh and blood, for the majority of my life. This past year I chose to deal with family obstacles in a different way. I chose to put myself first and to live my own life. Although at first that may sound selfish, I have become far more aware of my own faults and of my role in both my nuclear and extended family units. A proper and fully functional family sphere cannot ever be defined as black or white, as there is no right or wrong way to deal with family relationships. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s the imperfections of a so-called “dysfunctional” childhood family that, whether we chose to admit it or not, take part in defining how we live our adult lives.

Far more has happened that I choose not to write about here. What I know is that last year, I thought I had a lot figured out about my immediate future. I thought those feelings of not knowing were relatively resolved. What followed was far from what I could have imagined. It was an adventure: crazy, beautiful, and surreal. Everything happens for a reason, and I am learning to trust that the sequence of events, the causes and effects of my actions, are all lessons. This year’s moments have both given me joy and have challenged me. They are riddles that I’ve been given an opportunity to explore and to one day be able to solve. Things are more unresolved than ever before, but what I realize is that embracing this fact, in the end, is actually the whole point of it all.