When The New Year Walked Slowly Across The Road

Uncategorized Dec 27, 2025

🕯️ A New Year’s Tradition (That Had Nothing to Do With Champagne)

For years, my wife and I rang in New Year’s Eve in Waterton Lakes National Park, tucked away in one of the park’s cookhouses, pretending we were gourmet chefs in the middle of nowhere...

We’d snowshoe or wander the trails in the afternoon, cheeks red, lungs full of mountain air, and then spend the evening assembling a well-thought-out meal—planned days in advance like it was a competitive sport.

Candles? Of course.
Music? Absolutely.
Outdoor fire? If our fingers weren’t going to freeze off.

Midnight?
Rarely made it.
Didn’t care.

It was warm. It was slow. It was ours. And it was one of those traditions you don’t realize is shaping you until it’s gone.

🌫️ The Night Everything Disappeared

Then came that New Year’s Eve.

Thick fog. The kind that swallows headlights and messes with your sense of direction. Leaving the park, we crawled along, white-knuckled and quiet, when suddenly—right near the gates—something appeared out of the mist.

Brake. Hard.

And then, as if the universe hit the slow-motion button…

An elk stepped onto the road.

Not startled.
Not rushed.
Just...present.

You could see its breath rise into the cold night air, steady and calm, like it knew something we didn’t.

Then another elk emerged.
And another.
And another.

I shut off the engine but left the lights on, and we sat there—silent, wide-eyed—while what felt like the entire Waterton elk population crossed the highway in front of us.

No phones.
No photos.
No agenda.

Just the most incredible nature documentary I’ve ever watched—live, unedited, and completely unexpected.

🦌 The Lesson I Didn’t Know I Needed

Here’s the thing about elk (and life, for that matter):

They don’t rush.
They don’t explain themselves.
And they don’t care what time it is.

That herd wasn’t worried about New Year’s resolutions, setting SMART goals, or whether they were “behind.”

They moved when it was time to move.

That moment has stayed with me—not because it was dramatic, but because it was quietly profound.

As humans, we sprint into January like it’s a race we forgot to train for. New plans. New pressure. New promises to become a completely different person by Tuesday.

But sometimes the best way into a new year is to slow down, turn off the engine, and let what needs to pass…pass.

✨ So What’s the Takeaway?

Maybe this year doesn’t need a hard launch.

Maybe it needs:

A pause
A breath
A little fog
And the patience to trust the timing

Not everything meaningful arrives on schedule—and not everything important needs to be chased.

Sometimes the New Year doesn’t explode at midnight.

Sometimes it walks slowly across the road and invites you to notice.

🚀 Your Call to Action

As you step into this new year, I’ll ask you this:

👉 Where could you afford to slow down instead of speeding up?
👉 What are you rushing past that deserves your attention?

If this story resonates, share it with someone who’s putting too much pressure on January 1st.
And if you’re ready to reflect, reset, and actually listen to what’s next for you—stick around. There’s more where this came from.