Change Your Boots. A Pausa is everything in between...

I'm sitting here overlooking the wide grass area stretching out in front of me. I can see the pool, and the gardener has done an awesome job!

Everything is green.

The trees that just a few weeks ago were completely naked are now dressed in fresh greenish leaves, and my favourite tree is blooming with white flowers. I don't feel the need to put on any music. The birds chirping away, plus the neighbour's turkey with their random gobble gobble, are the most awesome soundtrack I could ask for.

Last month was hard. And only when I got to the mountains in Italy could I finally disconnect. There is something about mountains, snow, and skiing that gives me such pleasure.

Some call it flow. Others call it being in the zone. I call it freedom.

This was a new place for everyone in the group. I'm always the only woman, and my first day is always hard, but this first day will be in the books as the most horrible and difficult day of them all. I had never fallen so many times in a single day. There was no piste, only moguls and moguls and zero visibility. I felt defeated. My friends didn't wait for me, and I wasn't upset with them because I was taking forever with every fall. I was lost. Calling them, but couldn't get through.

On my 55th fall, I sat down.

I didn't cry.

I wasn't hurt.

I was frustrated because I knew I could ski better than that.

I decided to stop, go to a mountain café, and drink something hot because I was freezing. When I was finally sipping my drink, I heard my friends screaming: Becaaaas! I waved at them. You go. You go.

I went back up and tried to ski towards what I understood, between the screams of a friend, was the direction home. I skied for a bit, and then the chairlift that was supposed to take me back closed. It was already 4:20, and apparently, with zero visibility, they shut it down earlier. At that moment, I gave up. In broken English, so the Italian chairlift guy could understand me, I said: "Ski no good. Need chair."

For the first time in more than 15 years, I sat on a chairlift not to go up but to go down. Skis on my lap, my demeanour closer to a toddler in a full-blown meltdown than a woman who had tried her best. I found the red bus home. Thank God I had my slippers in my backpack, because I walked to the shop to change the godforsaken boots that were worse than Louis Vuitton heels.

I got home, and my face said it all. A friend told me, Becas, don't be sad. But I was. I took a shower, joined the group, we cooked dinner together, listened to music, and from that moment on, everything was okay. I knew tomorrow, with new boots, it was going to be a blast.

And you know what happened?

The second day was a blast. We skied 35 kilometres, and I fell only maybe twice.

The real teaching I get from skiing is perseverance, resilience, and a positive attitude. Sometimes the mountain isn't groomed, and your boots are ill-fitted. But then you sleep, you change the boots, and a new day arrives, and the skiing is better than it ever was.

I carry those lessons with me every time I come back here.

It's like Casa Koya, and building all of this almost by myself. Being a nurse, the CEO of this place, the mastermind behind all of it, the visionary, the website designer, the social media manager, the builder.

Some days it just feels like too much, and I want to run away.

But I try to be kind towards myself. Remember the mountain lessons, and I try to show up with good energy.

The world feels heavy lately.

There's so much noise. And yet I look at the birds, and they just cooperate.

They build together.

They welcome new life. Why is that so hard for us?

Today I had an awesome lunch that felt exactly like that kind of cooperation. Meeting new people, talking about dreams, plans, goals, and genuinely helping each other.

I got a new contact from my new friend, and let's see if I can get the Casa Koya logo made in a steel plate.

Thinking about cooperation, I feel April is coming filled with it.

Construction starts soon, and new bathrooms are going live. Dome is finally getting the flooring, new chairs inbound, and maybe the new shade will be up.

I promised myself this will be the last renovation. But if you know me, you're laughing, because God knows I'll have another astonishing idea.

But I promise: this is the last major renovation. From now on, only decor and bringing people in.

As my favourite AI once told me: "It's like having a Michelin restaurant on a street that no one goes to." 

So today I talked more about the vision I have for this place, and I think it needed it. With people from the "land", who are in the same process of building, and putting hours into work that, from the outside, doesn´t seem like we did anything special.

I hope April brings more love, more accomplishments, and more lunches like today.

April is going to be amazing, like my second day of skiing, my vision is clearer than ever, and I have changed the boots. I've built an awesome team, I'm making new friends, and slowly but surely I'm understanding that A Pausa is more than resting. It's everything in between.

Sometimes you need to sit on the chairlift going down to remember why you came up in the first place.

What boots do you need to change today?