Autumn is finally settling in here in Switzerland. The trees are turning different shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. The mornings are cool, the afternoons occasionally warm, and the weather brings a mixture of rain and snow on the mountaintops. Fall has always been my favorite season of the year. I love the changing leaves, the pleasure of wearing another layer of clothing, and the crisp, fresh air. There’s something wonderfully serendipitous about experiencing my favorite season in what has become my favorite country in the world. Experiencing two things I love at the same time, autumn and Switzerland, has been simply amazing.
The overwhelming beauty of Lauterbrunnen was something else entirely: the towering cliff walls, the waterfalls, the green grass, the farm animals, the rushing river, the golden trees, and the snowcapped mountains. The warmth of the sun and the coolness of the shade. The glistening water of Staubbach Falls catching the sunlight as it fell from the cliffs, and the ten glacier-fed waterfalls of Trümmelbachfälle thundering through the inside of a mountain. It is a valley full of pure perfection. I walked thousands of steps exploring it, stopping frequently to admire the landscape and take photographs. Every turn seemed to reveal something else worth appreciating. It was a journey that was worth every step.
Kandersteg was another place I thoroughly enjoyed, particularly Lake Oeschinen. I visited the lake on a cool, overcast day. It was a mood. Turquoise is one of my favorite colors, so seeing the turquoise lake surrounded by towering snowcapped mountains was simply immaculate. Several times, as I walked along the trail, I stopped to really try to soak in the stunning landscape. I took a moment to look at the mountain peaks. A moment to admire the turquoise lake. A moment to listen to the streams flowing over the rocks and cascading down the cliff walls. A moment to appreciate the trees in the forest. I was making a conscious effort to be present in the moment, to stop thinking about everything else and simply enjoy where I was.
But somehow, even while surrounded by all that beauty, I felt sad. I realized that each moment was fleeting, temporary, impermanent, soon to become nothing more than a part of my memory. I was trying to be present in the moment and enjoy it, but I couldn’t stop myself from being sad because it was only a brief moment in time. Apparently, there’s a word for something like this: kairosclerosis. Coined by John Koenig in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, kairosclerosis describes the peculiar experience of realizing you’re happy, consciously trying to savor that happiness, and discovering that the act of examining it makes the feeling begin to fade. My sadness also came from knowing that the moment couldn’t last, but the two feelings seemed closely connected.
While I was experiencing this, I kept thinking, I wish I could stay here forever. I’m surrounded by all of this beautiful landscape. Soon enough, I’ll be more than 4,000 miles away in North Carolina, surrounded by flat farmland, wishing I could be back here. I stopped to take a mental picture. And several digital photos. I wanted to remember the colors, the sounds, the cool air, and the feeling of standing in that particular place at that particular time. Sometimes we wish a moment would last forever precisely because we’re fully experiencing how wonderful it is.
I’ve also been thinking about a cartoon of a man and his dog sitting together on a bench.
Notice that the dog isn’t thinking about yesterday or worrying about tomorrow. He’s simply happy to be there, enjoying the company of someone he loves. Meanwhile, the man is thinking about everything except what’s happening right in front of him. There’s something both funny and touching about that contrast, and I recognize a little of myself in the man. How often do we find ourselves thinking about where we’ve been or where we’re going instead of appreciating where we are?
As I reflect on that moment at Lake Oeschinen, I know there are things I’ll remember and things I’ll forget, but there’s nothing I would change if I could. Each moment of my journey since leaving South Korea has been an opportunity to experience the world on my terms and at my pace. There are places I didn’t particularly like and will probably never visit again, but I’m grateful for those experiences, too. Sometimes we have to experience the bad to appreciate the good. And I can honestly say that every place I’ve visited in Switzerland is somewhere I would happily return.
I don’t know whether I’ll ever have the opportunity to live in Switzerland, although I would love to. For now, I’m grateful that I finally got to experience a place I’ve wanted to visit for so long, especially during my favorite season. Soon I’ll be leaving, and the mountains, lakes, and valleys will become memories and photographs. I suspect I’ll look at those photographs many times, wishing I could step back into them for just a little while. But I was there. I experienced it. And perhaps that’s enough, even if part of me will always wish those moments could have lasted a little longer.
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