Skiing Lessons

I think it was a conversation between my good friend Wesley and me that I first became conscious of the idea of "trying everything once." It was a part of Wes's philosophy on life that I wanted to adapt for myself. And so it was that I began to approach things a little differently. Within reason, I want to try as many things in life as I can. Stipulations involve omitting anything that has a substantial chance of killing me (because that's a little counterintuitive to the purpose...) and anything that involves injury to anybody else. Beyond that, for the most part, let's go.

Now that doesn't mean I don't wimp out sometimes (i.e. I just couldn't bring myself to sharing in the room of nakedness in Japan...) and it certainly doesn't mean that I don't whine and whimper before trying something scary (i.e. roller coasters). But it does mean that I've been far more willing to try things that I would have previously erased from the map of opportunity, and I think that's the point anyway.

I lived within 2 hours of the NC mountains for 21 years of my life and somehow never got up there during the winter - not even to just see the things. For all of my globe trotting, I'd never seen a snow-capped mountain before I studied abroad in Europe in '05. It took another 5 years for me to stand on one, and it was just as majestic as I'd imagined! Snow everywhere I looked...a Southern kid's dream come true! I'd have been quite happy to sit at the lodge and sip hot chocolate all day, watching skiers slip and slide down the trails around me. But I've wanted to try out skiing for as long as I can remember, and so it was doubly exciting when I got to hit the slopes yesterday for the first time.

It took me an hour of sitting at the top of the bunny slope before I finally decided I was sick of being scared and I was just going to go down, whatever fate befell me. My first trip down began with a dramatic, screaming crash into the snow bank at the side of the trail...I had a hard time getting up both because of those damn boards attached to my feet (the knee can only really bend forwards and backwards, apparently...) and because I was laughing so hard. That trip down involved a few more crashes, but none so terrible that I wasn't willing to go back up and try it again. On my second trip down, I was rewarded with the perfect ski - no crashes until, well, the very end. So THAT'S what it feels like!

With that perfect run inflating my confidence and shooting adrenaline through my veins, I was ready to tackle a green run with my friends. After all, the bunny hill gets really boring really quickly. So I got to experience my third "first" of the day when we took the chairlift up to the top of the runs - what an awesomely fun invention that thing is! Then we went barreling down the trail. At times (30 second intervals when I got it all perfectly!), I felt like I was flying. At others, well, I found myself face-first and waist-deep in snow, with my fellow skiers staring up at me wondering if I would retain all my limbs. But that was fun, too. I'm from the South - being waist-deep in snow is something that seemed utterly unimaginable to me as a kid.

But skiing had a few lessons to teach beyond the joy of finally catching on to what it feels like to zoom down a mountain of crystal white snow. After all, I think one of the main reasons I thirst to collect experiences is that each one brings some new insight into the prism of life. Each one makes everything just a little more interesting. Each one opens my eyes a little more to the human experience. In any case, at the end of the day, we talked about the fact that the only way to really learn how to ski is to do it. Someone can try to describe it to you until they're blue in the face, but it won't do a bit of good if you never come down the mountain. After my first run down the bunny slope (an hour after I'd gone up...), Jose remarked to me that I had to start coming down. My second run was picture perfect sans spill at the end, but it never could have happened if I'd continued to try to learn how to do this thing by listening to instructions. When learning how to ski, you just have to quite literally take the leap down the hill, even if you have no idea what you're doing and no idea what lies around the corner in front of you. Sound familiar? Sounds like life to me.

The second lesson occurred as I dove face-first into and then over the snow bank on my first green run. A woman came to my aid immediately after I went flying over the bank, skis pointed skyward. "Do you need help?" she asked. Choking my laughter, I responded that would be lovely. I really wasn't sure at that point if I was ever going to be able to dig myself out alone. She helped me release my skis and get to my feet (easier said than done in 2 feet of snow) and reassured me that I was doing really well for my first time skiing. As I trudged back over the bank, I noticed that everyone within sight was staring up towards me to make sure I was okay. A bunch of strangers caring about me, one of whom helped me to my feet. When you leap down that hill, you might crash and burn along the way...but don't count out the possibility of a little help from your friends (or strangers). And if you do see someone crash and burn, pay it forward and help them to their feet. We see it happen all the time, most recently on a grand scale in Haiti, but it rings differently when it happens to you. Help your neighbor.

A day later, I can feel every muscle in my body and am surprised that I didn't wake up with one giant bruise! But honestly, it feels good - it's the exhaustion and soreness that comes from accomplishing something. Skiing's no hurdle in comparison to the obstacles that people everywhere have to face every day - in comparison to the obstacles people are facing in their fight to survive in Haiti, for example. But, it reinforced some of those critical life lessons which we only really believe once experienced. And damn, it was fun...even the falls. Something else to take away...