My new relationship with snow had its ups and downs this weekends. The downs included three nice little falls from which once a ski instructor (not mine) helped me get back on my ski's. And this was cross-country! Going too fast or on some curve I didn't quite have enough skill for yet. Although, when I started Saturday morning, I am sure a retired man and his lovely retreiver were walking faster than me.
So I renegotiated my perspective again - as I have done so many times in life - to recognize I am truly starting at the bottom. For me, skiing will be 95% perseverence and 5% talent. But I want to do it because I love being outside in the sun and the snow. Even when my entire body hurts afterwards. And I like the idea that one day, after 100s of small steps over several seasons in my case, I might be even one-third as elegant as the ski-skaters beside me. I have learned that would be huge for me.
After some hours, I realized also something I sometimes notice during the week: that the work of skiing (even though I loved it) was getting in the way of the beauty around me. So I took off my ski's for a while and just walked. And listened. And here was my favorite sound, of flow.
PS, Many thanks to my friends who made this weekend possible!
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