I’m writing from a coffee shop in a village where I arrived early morning for my annual New Year’s Day walk with the mountains. My not-backpacking year officially ended hours earlier. Here I sit, using two mobile devices and a Moleskin journal between sips of cappuccino, ready to post: for the first time since August.
I actually kept on track with the activities, stone throwing tournaments, dance, German writing course, nearby excursions. Just learned that I’m pretty deeply private, which is perhaps well-suited for keeping client strategies confidential and building trust, but not so useful for a blog! Plus I was too busy doing it all with my day job.
Sip of cappuccino, nibble of brioche. “What’s an appropriate and symbolic last comment on 16 months in which I allowed myself to simply do what attracted me while living my life?” And learned and grew a lot.
Then life, as one can often count on, answered.
The man to my left politely asked if I’m a writer — having noticed my journal on which I was so focused that I didn’t notice him. Typical me. “Not professionally, yet I write every morning.” “Ah. Well I’ve just written a book. I went around the world with my Alphorn and accordion. You can buy it in the Coop next door.”
I immediately explored. May I please introduce you to Mr. Kurt Hofstettler and his book titled A Year and a Day? At age 66, having retired, he allowed himself his dream.
May I – and you also – always remain so inspired. For maybe it is our common ability to dream and do that connects us.