Wooden Boxes

Last summer, I went for a hike. At the top of the mountain, there was the obligatory hut for rest and nourishment, but also a tiny chapel. I went inside and, on the left-hand wall, there was a wooden box. Kind of like a picture frame, but deeper, and with a simple pane of glass to protect its contents.

Inside the box, several small, two-page flyers adorned the backside of this construction. 19, in fact. Each of them was held up by a pin, clearly visible to any chapel visitor, and each flyer came with the same elements: a name, a photograph, a line of poetry or a Bible verse, and two dates. Born. Died. 19 times. 19 people. 19 destinies in one wooden box.

Sometimes the picture was in color; sometimes it was black-and-white. Sometimes the gap between the two dates was large; at other times it was rather small. 84 years. 63 years. 41 years. 34 years. 17 years. Some of the flyers had a mountain on them, signifying the person had died during a climb. Others showed a firefighter in gear, a man in his garden, a young girl taking a selfie.

It was a somber moment. One minute you’re enjoying the sun on a hike, the next you stumble into death. But it was also beautiful. A miniature shrine which made it easy to linger. To pause for a few minutes and pay respects—to people I never knew, but all of whom were loved by someone. Someone who made that flyer, ventured up the mountain, and pinned it to this wooden box.

It seems we all end up in one of those one way or another. It could be a large one, a small one, or one framed with glass in a small chapel in the middle of nowhere. But a wooden box it shall be regardless. Taking a beat in front of the ones we’re not in isn’t the only way to celebrate life while we have it, yet there are worse places to start.

Inhale esprit, exhale mountain air and memories. Do it every day. Collect moments, and respect those before and around you. That way, whichever wooden box you’ll land in, you won’t be alone—and whoever comes to say hello will feel your energy long after you can no longer shake their hand.