It was the evening of the wolf moon, the first full moon of 2025. And like the last full moon of 2024, I again found myself hiking in the dark with my friend Kathy. Only instead of post-holing into thigh-deep powder in wedge booties, I suggested this time we stay on top of the snow and skin up Park City Mountain. And rather than symbolically burning the thoughts that would no longer serve us, we created a new ritual. One to invite in what would serve us well in the new year.The wolf moon gets its name from ancient lore. It’s said that in January, more than any other time, wolves were heard howling under its light. For the wolf, howling isn’t just a creepy sound; it’s communication, connection, a call to the pack. In that way, the wolf moon reminds us of our own primal instincts. It’s our voice in the darkness, our connection to the wildness that lives in us all.Later that night, my friend Chrissy texted me a pic of the same moon. She’d snapped it as she sat 2,000 miles away in a hot tub with her 15-year-old daughter. “Mom, if you howl, I’m getting out,” her daughter said. Clearly, wolf moon rituals aren’t for everyone.As we skinned up that night, the moon was hidden behind a veil of thick clouds. But I could feel its power as we talked about what we would each invite in for the new year. Kathy said she wants to be more playful, to feel more childlike joy. For me, it’s all about curiosity.Elizabeth Gilbert says that a creative life is possible when you always choose curiosity over fear. She says relentless curiosity can serve you more than fear — even more than passion. “Passion is the big tower of flame on the hill, it’s lightning in a bottle, it’s the voice of God.” she says. Sure, it’s exciting, but it’s not always there. Curiosity, on the other hand, is right there with you, never failing to tap you on the shoulder and ask, “What the hell is that?” All you have to do is notice.Kathy and I finally reached the angle hut at the top of Park City Mountain and quickly ripped off our skins. I noticed two snowboard dudes pull up nearby. I let out a feeble howl. I was curious if they thought we were nuts.The wolf moon was barely glowing behind a thick layer of clouds. A cold wind whipped around us and instantly formed thick ice particles on my goggles. “Get over here so I can get a pic,” Kathy said. “I’m freezing my ass off.” Anything for the ‘gram. I leaned in, my headlamp creating a ghoulish glow on my face. “Please don’t post that,” I said.Kathy took off ahead of me while I paused to gaze up at the full moon. Seeing it up there in the sky made me think of that scene from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The one where George Bailey is standing in the moonlight with the love of his life, Mary Hatch. “What do you want, Mary? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.”Only in the movie in my mind, Mary throws her own lasso. That’s the thing about curiosity in the moonlight. It doesn’t ask permission or wait for the perfect moment. It casts its own lasso and creates its own damn moonbeams, thankyouverymuch.I caught up with Kathy just off the cat track and we made our way down Homerun through some precariously uneven groomer tracks. The moon, still buried in cloud cover was no help. My Pit Viper lenses completely fogged and caked with ice and I almost ran into a stake marking a death cookie in the middle of the run. “Watch out,” I yelled to Kathy skiing behind me, her headlamp casting a glow as dim as a cigarette lighter.We reached the bottom near First Time, hopped up on the goofballs of type-one fun. I cranked up Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” on my iPhone. We jammed on air guitar and drum and scream-sang misheard lyrics. I smell like a clown, I’m lost and I’m found, I named my hometown after you. It was a fleeting moment of wild joy if ever there was one. Kathy and I both let out a howl, longer and louder than ever. Somewhere up there, the full-on wolf moon beamed.The post Betty Diaries: Curiosity killed the cat, but the wolf moon brought it back appeared first on Park Record.