If in my first blog I wrote about dancing and how it shaped my life, there is another part of me I cannot leave out: mountains. Mountains and mountaineering have always been an important part of my free time and, in many ways, of my life.

I grew up in a small village called Podljubelj, surrounded by mountains and tucked close to the border with Austria. Growing up there was a fantastic experience. There wasn’t much to do. We didn’t really have public transport, and there weren’t many organized activities around us. But we had nature. We had forests. And we had mountains.

So we grew up with them.

We spent our free time hiking, building bunkers, sleeping in the forest, and finding adventure in places that now feel almost magical when I look back. Nature was our playground, but also our teacher. Without knowing it, it taught us presence, resilience, and respect.

And if I return to where I ended my last blog, in February 2025, this was already the time when I had started attending alpine school.

It wasn’t only dancing that had stayed with me since childhood. There were also mountains. Quiet forests. Silence. Something familiar that kept calling me back over and over again.

When I sold my festival and stopped teaching dance, I suddenly had more time again. And I gave that time back to the mountains. Little did I know that by applying to alpine school, I was about to fall in love.

There were around 30 of us applying, and only 15 would be accepted. To help with the selection, they organized what they called a selection tour.

We arrived at the meeting point early in the morning. And as soon as I stepped out of the car, there he was. My so-called love at first sight.

My brain immediately started asking:Why here? Why now?
But somewhere underneath all the overthinking, I kept repeating the mantra that had already followed me through so many chapters of my life: Trust that life will take you where you’re supposed to be.

So I stopped trying to understand it. And I simply followed my heart. Our selection tour took us to Velika Planina. A stunning high-mountain plateau in the Kamnik–Savinja Alps, famous for its traditional wooden shepherd huts and spring fields full of purple crocuses. One of Europe’s few remaining active high-mountain shepherd settlements.

I was accepted to alpine school. And suddenly, I found myself attending classes, going on trips, starting to climb, and dating, all at the same time. Life can be funny like that. I had always been comfortable hiking. But I was not a climber. Standing with both feet firmly on the ground always gave me a sense of peace. A sense of being grounded. So when I started rock climbing, I encountered a completely new fear. I never imagined how much climbing would actually be part of alpinist school. But somehow, I accepted it.

We climbed together a lot. And with every climb, I was learning something beyond technique. I was learning patience. I was learning trust. Trust in myself. Trust in the process. Because when you are climbing, there is no space for overthinking. You cannot afford to be somewhere else with your mind. You cannot lose focus. You are either there, completely present, or you are not. And maybe that is exactly why climbing became so important to me. Mountaineering, and especially rock climbing, is one of the few activities that completely shuts down my brain. It brings me back into the moment. Fully.

Cold, wind, exposure, altitude, and physical obstacles have a way of reminding your nervous system what it is capable of. They challenge fear directly. And they teach you that you can endure more than you think.

And if I connect this back to my first blog, I realize that I found myself in a familiar place again. Repeating the same mantra.

Trusting life.
Trusting the process.
Trusting that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
And this is also what I try to bring into my work. What I learn from climbing - patience, focus, and self-trust - I carry with me into the office.
At the Center of Excellence in Finance, I wear many hats. I work as a specialist, facilitator, member of the staff council, and ethics officer. With these roles come responsibilities, expectations, and many decisions.
Sometimes difficult ones.
Sometimes decisions that affect other people.
Sometimes decisions where there is no perfect route, only the next step.
And maybe that is not so different from climbing after all.

You pause.
You assess.
You trust your preparation.
You trust yourself.
And then you move.
One move at a time.

And once again, I find myself exactly where I’m supposed to be.