Each morning I wake up.
I open the curtains, and push the window open.
I decide how the day will go depending on the amount of sunshine that hits my face.
And if there is too much sun, I tell it to go away.
For during the winter, I wish the sun’s absence in totality ….. so that the snow to fall.
I climb out of bed, reach for my yoga mat, and retreat into myself for some moments.
I hazily make my way down the stairs into the kitchen afterwards.
Good mornings are said.
Breakfast is served.
And then I breathe.
I walk to the dry room.
Grab my snowboard pants first, jacket second.
Headphones in my ears.
Neck warmer tucked in securely.
Beanie in place.
Goggles over the hoodie to keep snow from dripping down my back.
And lastly I sit down on the bench, and tie the laces up on my snowboard boots.
I reach for my snowboard, and make my way outside.
The walk to the mountain is the best feeling of the morning thus far.
That’s the best way to describe it.
I reach the first lift, strap my board on, and jet off.
Each day a new line, a new adventure, a new discovery.
Not Sugoi though. He is always the same.
Sugoi is the name I have given him, because I do not actually know his name.
Sugoi means awesome in Japanese. And Sugoi is awesome.
He’s a 50 plus year old lifty, at my favorite lift on the mountain.
Sugoi has watched me lap his lift for the last two months.
It’s the lift that get’s me to all the powerdy tree runs.
The one that gets me into trouble when I am riding in places I shouldn’t.
But each day after a couple of laps on this chair, Sugoi runs out with a treat for me.
I have no idea why he picked me.
No idea why he likes me.
But we have an understanding.
A human one.
We smile at each other.
We bring peace to each other’s lives.
And every time I see him, I smile.
He makes me so happy.
Because he is happy.
Yesterday I went to my favorite cafe, and I bought a chocolate cookie.
One of the best I have ever had.
I wrapped it up in a small white package.
I placed it in my pocket.
And when I reached Sugoi’s lift, he smiled.
He said “Ohiyo Gaizamous.”
And I said it back.
I reached into my pocket, and gave Sugoi the cookie.
He was so shocked and surprised, and he giggled and made a little hop of giddiness.
It made me smile.
A small gesture had made his day.
Just as he had made mine so many times before.
We have a language barrier, but not a human one.
He reminds me to make gestures.
Language barrier or not, Sugoi is my friend.
I understand him.
And that is beautiful.