All we have to do is decide what we want to do with our time here.
-JRR Tolkien
In Chinese Astrology, the year 2025 was the year of the wood snake; a time for transformation, clarity, rebirth, and letting go of old patterns. 2026 is the year of the fire horse, bringing forward momentum, freedom, and adventure. It is not the time to hold back, but move forward with courage, unbridled and free from old ways of thinking.
From going out of my comfort zone in the far north by photographing Arctic foxes and traveling solo to the Arctic Circle to spend a night on a remote island, 2025 was a year of finding myself. For an entire month, I lived on a small island in North Iceland. My days were simple, filled with nature walks, photography, writing, and watching the water shimmer in the fjord.
It was a profound year, marked by many realizations and a commitment to move forward towards my dreams with unbridled passion.
It is time to believe.
All you need is courage
Fearstricken, I gripped the side of the pool. Muscles tense. Breathing heavy, panic set in as my swim coach encouraged me to let go. Despite being outfitted with two arm floaties, I was terrified. My childhood fears of nearly drowning at the beach returned, coupled with an internal dialogue of doubt, embarrassment, and anxiety.
I was 32 and just learning to swim. I wanted to complete an Ironman, a feat that I was told would be impossible for me. Why? I was terrified of water, and seven years earlier, following three knee surgeries, I was told by a surgeon I would never run again. I already defied those odds and finished the Rock and Roll Marathon in Washington, DC. Now it was time to tackle swimming.
In the shallow end of the pool a man watched. I heard his remark, “She won’t be able to do it.” I knew he was referring to the half Ironman I had registered for only nine months away.
His doubt enraged me. How dare he judge my determination? My abilities? I could do anything I put my mind to. I already proved this to myself.
For the next nine months, I attended swim lessons three times at the local high school. I participated in lap swims, open swims in the lake, and training sessions on my bike and on the run. My weekends were nonstop, from 5 am wake-ups, long bricks (a bike followed by a run), laundry, and, of course, a lot of eating.
This was all the physical part, but what about the mental? A good friend lent me a book about mindset. It taught me exercises on how to use visualization to overcome fear and anxiety. This is where visualization practice came in. I visualized myself starting the race, staying calm during the swim despite the thrashing elbows and kicks, mounting my bike, and hearing the crowd cheer at the finish.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was manifesting. Nine months later, I crossed the line at my first triathlon, the Timberman 70.3 in New Hampshire. I went on to complete 12 more half-ironmans and three full-ironmans, achieving All World Athlete at the 2019 Lake Placid Ironman.
I could have believed my surgeon, who said I would never run again, or the man in the pool, who said I would never be able to do it. But I chose courage instead.
Although I no longer compete in Ironmans, the experience was invaluable and taught me one of the most powerful life lessons: That with faith, determination, and courage, one can achieve anything.
To this day, I use these principles and my experiences racing and training for Ironmans in almost everything I do, including photography.
Syncronicities and signs
Have you ever seen a number repeatedly or had a feeling that something would happen, only for it to come true?
On August 25th, 2023, I experienced something so incredible that I hesitated to tell anyone the story out of fear that no one would believe me. Yet I know in my heart it happened so that I would share the story.
For years, I traveled to Iceland in the winter searching the clear dark skies for the Northern Lights, with no avail. One day, while planning my next trip, I had a premonition that I would see the Aurora only when I went to the Arctic Henge, a historically significant stone sundial on Iceland’s far north coast.
This sundial was incredibly significant to me. It is dedicated to an Eddic poem, one of the texts that first brought me to Iceland in 2021 when I was writing my first book on Norse Mythology. How epic would that be if this vision came true? If I were to witness the incredible polar lights in a place so special to me?
As I waited for my next trip to Iceland to unfold, I searched the internet for inspiration. Photographs of the sky shimmering green and purple over the stone arches filled my feed. I laughed at the idea my premonition would be real, but deep down I wondered.
In August of 2023, I resigned from my full-time job and rented a camper van to explore Iceland for one month. It was one of the craziest things I had ever done, and most people agreed.
It was a late afternoon when I began the long journey to the Arctic Henge. I was depressed, feeling lost, and unsure of what the heck I was doing, leaving my secure job and driving a camper around a foreign country with no plan, just a camera and my heart leading me. Was I delusional? Insane?
I arrived at sunset, planted myself between the stone arches, and watched as the sky turned crimson to black. Stars flickered back as I stared up at the universe, so many questions lingering in my heart. Then the tears began, followed by frantic yelling at the sky as if it held the answers. “Why am I here?! What am I doing?”
Eventually, a sense of peace washed over me as if something had heard me and my answers were on the way.
I left the stones and sat in my van, brewing tea and feeling the urge to linger. I had forgotten about my dream of seeing the Aurora there. After all, how could I know the exact location and time the northern lights would appear?!
I slid the van door open, sipped the hot tea I held between my mittened hands, and watched the stars.
Between the darkness, a green shimmer appeared, and then another. As it expanded, it moved and swayed, as if dancing to a universal rhythm.
I could not believe my eyes, but it was the aurora, and by the time I jumped from the van, the sky was exploding green!
If you have ever seen the Northern Lights, you will understand the awe one feels when the sky begins to dance. It is indescribable, and to this day, I still get emotional when I see them.
When I looked at my watch, it read 11:11. Since then, this number has shown up to me many times throughout almost every single day. Eventually, my quest to discover the number’s meaning led me to manifestation coach, Matt Cooke, who recently published his book “Beyond Wanting: The Art of True Manifestation.
A few days later, I was catching up on my photo editing in a hostel on Iceland’s south coast when a guide struck up a conversation with me. He was a well-traveled man who had seen about every corner of this world, from Patagonia to New Zealand. Oddly enough, the conversation turned to life and human behavior patterns.
I revealed a small part of my story, but nothing about the questions I had asked a few nights at the stones, my fears, or my doubts.
He then asked me one of the most profound questions I had ever been asked in my life;
What do you want to do with your time here? That is all you need to know. Is it to become famous? Become wealthy? Leave this world a better place?
When I left the hostel, I spent a good hour staring at my reflection in the camper’s window. The stones. The northern lights. The profound question from a stranger. Then I realized I knew the answer all along. It was so obvious, yet I had never answered it, or been still enough to find the answer within myself.
What do you want to do with your time here?
Get in touch with your why and you will never quit
When I began taking photographs of birds and nature at the age of nine, I didn’t know why. I just enjoyed it. There was no money at stake, no photo awards, no contests, and no pressure. I just loved wildlife and connected with it more than I did with people.
Over the years, as I spent more and more time photographing wildlife, I naturally began connecting with it more. In 2025, I partook in an Arctic fox photography expedition on the remote Hornstrandir Nature Reserve in Iceland’s West Fjords region.
It was a dream trip, and when I planned it, I had no idea how I would make it happen. I placed it on my vision board with no plan, and to be honest, I was afraid to go. As someone who feels their soul belongs to the high north, I have always been fascinated by winter, the Arctic, and its landscapes.
Ironically, I have Raynaud’s disease, a condition that narrows the small arteries in my hands when it is cold. As you can imagine, this is not only very painful but can also be debilitating for a photographer who needs her fingers to take photos.
Armed with a special parka by Helly Hansen and gloves by The Heat Company, I set off on an adventure to Hornstrandir in March of 2025, filled with excitement and nerves.
The weather was brutal. Coupled with 65-mile-per-hour winds, we had snow, ice, and shit visibility. I remember standing in the kitchen beside the wood stove, watching as the ice battered the window behind the caretaker. I was terrified to go out there, and to be honest, I didn’t believe I could do it. What about my hands? What if I got too cold? Quit? Didn’t see any foxes?
The caretaker looked at me and said, “It all depends on how bad you want it,” and that statement was enough to motivate me to action.
Over the course of 6 days, five other photographers and I endured the elements at every opportunity to photograph Arctic foxes and other wildlife on the preserve, including Harlequin ducks. By day, I was hunkered down beside the shore, battered by wind and ice, all to get a chance to photograph one of my most beloved animals.
By night, we were gratefully huddled around the wood stove or in the outdoor sauna, sipping hot chocolate. It was an epic trip I will never forget.
We witnessed not only the raw beauty of the area but also the resilience of the wildlife. The experience humbled me and changed me as a photographer and person.
I left with a renewed sense of love for Arctic regions and respect for their wildlife, a belief in my abilities, and a severely water-damaged camera. When I returned, I learned my image of the Arctic fox would be shown at an art gallery, and I was invited to give a talk about my experience. I then discovered I was the recipient of the prestigious CEAP grant, which would be enough funds to afford a new camera.
Following this trip, I spent one month photographing birds and other wildlife on the pristine island of Hrísey as part of an art residency. I even journeyed further north to cross the Arctic Circle on Grimsey Island.
On Grimsey, I spent one magical night photographing Atlantic puffins as they reunited with their mates for the breeding season. I observed courtship behaviors such as “billing” and puffin pairs preparing their burrows for the one and only chick of the season.
In June, I returned to Iceland once again to photograph the largest puffin colony in Europe on Westman Island. I was saddened to see a noticeable decrease in the puffin population compared to last year. Atlantic puffins are listed as a vulnerable species due to the drastic population decline, a sad reality if we don’t act now to help preserve them.
My images are now part of a 2026 Atlantic Puffin Calendar. All profits go to The Puffin Project, part of the Seabird Institute in Maine, an organization dedicated to the conservation of this species. You can purchase one for yourself or any puffin lover here.
All these experiences deepened my love and appreciation for wildlife. They reignited a purpose I had recognized at a young age: to use my photography to document and support conservation efforts.
I had found my answer to the question.
What do you want to do with your time here? I wanted to do everything I could to leave it a better place.
Believe
You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just keep showing up at the version of you that already believes.
-Matt Cooke
Following these incredible trips I made significant changes to my daily habits. Journaling and meditation became part of my daily routine as did a renewed commitment to my photography.
I identified my technical weaknesses and began tackling them one by one with renewed determination. I enlisted the help of close friends to assist me with the less glamorous side of photography, such as file keeping, computer cleanup, backups, and so on.
I joined a local photo group and printed a list of goals to be achieved in one year. I scheduled a non-negotiable time during the week for planned shoots and became more mindful of local nature and connections around me.
One late summer day, I stumbled upon a family of red foxes playing near a local pond while I was photographing mallard ducks. For one week, I returned to the pond to photograph the foxes. I didn’t know it at the time but one of my images of a kit would go on to win a photo contest and take part in a local exhibit.
On opening day, the photograph sold within one hour to a local couple who were enthralled with it. I was beyond the moon grateful for the opportunity to have my photo in the exhibit and meet other local artists. It really was a dream come true.
When I sat down one day in a cafe to journal my “Dream Project,” I felt silly. I suppose I never gave myself a dream project. I never thought I deserved one or had the confidence in myself I could create one. Wildlife photography is for me. It is for the rich. It is for the lucky or those who know people, and the internal dialogue of excuses went on and on and on.
But then I realized one thing, and the only thing that mattered. I was capable. And I did have love behind my idea. The more I journaled about my vision, the more emotional I became. I found myself sitting in a cafe crying tears of joy over my dream project.
And that is when I knew, this was it.
Pay attention to these moments in life:
- Where you lose time in an activity because it brings you joy
- Moments, ideas, visions that fill you with inspiration and emotion.
- When an idea excites you.
- Places, activities, or ideas you return to. Not old patterns, but something that draws you in. For me, it has always been photography and writing.
- What brought you joy in childhood? Robert Green discusses this in his book “The Daily Laws.” Our purpose is evident in childhood.
Your belief in your idea has to be SO STRONG that it will be unwavering in the face of fear and doubts, including doubt from people closest to you.
Here is the harsh truth: there will be people who will not support you when you begin to take risks and follow your dreams. It happened to me, and it still does. It comes in the form of negative remarks, degrading questions, or suddenly disappearing from my life. I have learned not to take it personally.
However, there will be those few, those special, amazing few that will be enthused and stand by your side through it all. Those are your people and to be honest, you only need a few. Express your gratitude for them and pay it forward. It does the world good.
If you ask anyone in life who has made a bold decision, you will likely hear a consistent theme.
No, they were no ready, no, they did not feel prepared, and yes they were afraid and yes people doubted them.
You will never feel ready.
You will never not be afraid.
You will never feel completely prepared
You HAVE to have courage. You have to LOVE your vision, I mean love it so much that obstacles won’t deter you, nor will fear or doubt.
Accept that failures are a test
Through the last five years of my life, I have lost count of how many times I almost quit. Quit writing. Quit photography. Broken cameras, bad book reviews, blurry photographs, mistimed shoots, vendor events where I didn’t sell a thing, or content that gets no reach. At the time, I saw all these things as failures. Then one night, my 87-year-old dad imparted some wisdom on me,
“It is not a failure; you are learning.”
Such a simple saying, yet so profound. He was right. When my camera broke, I learned I needed a sturdier tripod for windy conditions. I also learned how to send a camera in for repairs and to invest in the insurance CarePak, something I had thought was useless until I needed it. When a market flopped, I learned how to curate events.
Every time you “fail” this is actually more rewarding for you than when you succeed. Failures teach us things about the task at hand and about ourselves. Failures challenge us to commit to keep going.
Every time you fail, realize it is just the universe saying, “Hey, I just wanna check again, are you in or are you out?”
Feel the fear but do it anyway
You will never not be afraid. Let that sink in. Whether it is today, next week, or next year, your fear of change and risk will always be there. It is literally the way our human brains are designed.
The human brain is designed to protect us from perceived threats and maintain homeostasis. This includes change, risk, and uncertainty. Once you accept that fear is a regular part of the process and that it will be the courage within you that will propel you forward, the risk is less daunting.
When I stood on the starting line of my first Ironman, I was shaking with fear. But my courage was stronger. You will always be afraid of something extraordinary happening.
Go forth with bold decisions and a courageous heart, and watch the magic unfold.
And for the sake of all things, believe in yourself.
-Arielle
