I recently found a photo of John and I during our winter in Aspen—I had shared it on Facebook at the time. In the photo, we are standing on our new (to us) cross country skis on the Forest Service road we lived along, a steep forested mountainside behind us, leaning into each other and grinning into the sunlight. We’d been together for just over a year, and moving to Aspen, Colorado for the winter threw more challenges at us than I could have imagined when I graduated from college just that June. Seven years later, I often forget the hardest days and nights of that winter–the loneliness, lack of direction we sometimes felt–I only fondly remember the snowy landscapes, our cozy but extremely tiny apartment above the goat shed, the friends we made… the unique adventure of it all.

The photo was captioned with a quote that I’d chosen, one that I don’t remember finding or sharing:

“Adventure isn’t hanging on a rope off the side of a mountain. Adventure is an attitude that we must apply to the day to day obstacles of life – facing new challenges, seizing new opportunities, testing our resources against the unknown and in the process, discovering our own unique potential.”
― John Amatt

Last year, I wrote about discovering my life values and living by them. Adventure is high on my list, and these words remind me that adventure is how I choose to interact with day-to-day life, both the depressing challenges as well as the thrilling opportunities.

Boy, did this year test me on it all.

In February, I lost my grandfather while I held his hand at his bedside. In March, I learned the cutting pain of grieving those who still move throughout the world, only without wanting you in theirs. Biking became my antidote to anxiety and grief, and helped me heal. In April, I watched my dad battle an unknown infection in the hospital for 8 days, helpless at the sidelines again, without any sense of what was going to happen. Thankfully, he made it home.

In the midst of it all, I witnessed a total solar eclipse, hosted friends in Madison that overflowed with enthusiasm and encouragement for my Green Big Year, and biked many, many miles. The hard things in life don’t always stop the smiles or the laughter, they just cast a shadow like a passing cloud, and every so often, the sun peeks through.

And then, things began to look better.

In May, John and I completed our longest-ever bike ride in search of grassland birds—78 miles in two days. The next week I gathered my closest friends in an unforgettable retreat-style bachelorette cabin weekend that I designed more out of gratitude for them than out of celebration for myself. At the end of May, I embarked on the Disney Wonder in Juneau, Alaska to act as the ship’s naturalist for a week, speaking in front of 300 or more people, which is something I never thought I would have the chance—or the guts—to do. I helped one of my closest friends get married in the desert and hosted my former college professor turned dear-friend-and-mentor for a visit to Madison.

As the summer raced forward, I led the planning of the wedding of our dreams, based in Duluth, Minnesota along Lake Superior. Though it could be stressful, overall the planning process was a joy-filled experience. Friends and family commented that it was one of the most special and intentional ceremonies and gatherings that they had ever been to, and every minute of planning was worth having so many people that we loved—and who love us—all in one place. John and I were grinning like children the entire day, and I have hardly ever felt so carefree.

In September, I was lucky enough to be invited back to Disney Cruise Line, and this time I took my parents along with John. We spent 10 days sailing through Southeast Alaska as I eased into the presentations once more.

As the air began to cool, John and I talked about our future more and more, our hopes and dreams for what is to come. Friends visited us in Madison and I visited family and friends in Minnesota. I camped out at an environmental education conference complete with a toasty woodstove. I finished knitting a shawl and a baby cardigan, and started knitting my second sweater. I attended my first-ever political rally to see Kamala Harris and made new friends across generations in the process.

And then, at the end of October, John and I discovered a rat inside of our apartment, which led to 2 weeks of the worst anxiety I have experienced in years. We spent days disinfecting every corner of our bathroom and kitchen, setting out traps nightly both in and outside of our walls with no luck. Eventually we learned it had made it into our laundry storage room, and we bought more traps with new varieties of foods for bait.

The morning after Election Day, after the news cycle had already sent me into feelings of despair, we successfully got rid of one of two rats we were hoping to beat that week. As for the other, time will tell how we fare moving forward.

In the book Active Hope, Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone write that there are three “stories of our time”, and one of them is the Adventure Story. They say that in every adventure story, everything always looks the bleakest before it gets better, and that this can also be true for real life. The challenge is in staying engaged and not losing hope. Hope, they write, is not a feeling, but an action. An attitude. Just like adventure.

Through all of the pain that this year brought my heart, I also experienced so much beauty. It is incredible to me that I still look back on this year as “good”, despite the intense grief and anxiety I felt throughout different seasons. I continue to find and lean into new and familiar methods of self care: evenings without plans, knitting with beautiful yarn, connecting with friends and family who lift me up, exercise, hot showers, warm mugs of tea, candles in the living room, lots of water, and lots of grace.

As they say, one week, one day, just one moment at a time.

John and I will be kicking off 2025 (and my next decade on this beautiful Earth) with a long honeymoon to the Patagonia regions of Chile & Argentina. Stay tuned for stories and photos from our travels!

With light and love,
Lindsey

More photos from a truly beautiful year:

Photos: Some of the Fog family, building Olaf the snowman, baking panettone & st. lucia buns with Federica, knitting and building projects, Maureen in Madison, biking to a brewery in Minneapolis with my brother Justin, camping at Upham Woods in a hot tent with Isabelle, more knitting, Kamala Harris rally, visiting John’s uncle Mike & aunt Linda in Berkeley, visiting Monterey with our nieces and nephew (Annie 10, Jack 8, & Ruby 6), me and my grandma, Tophouse in concert, and The Last Revel in concert.