Jacqueline L. Scott
The first storm of winter covered the land in deep fluffy snow. Gazing through the window, the winter wonderland was enticing, but only because I was warm and stuffed with rice and peas, chicken and eggnog.
Two hours later, I was still at the window. I had to go outside. It was time to suck in some fresh air, after spending too many hours indoors with the family during the holidays. I love my family. Well, most of the time, I do. Like many families, mine do best when we have some time apart from each other.
No one wanted to go skiing. The familiar eye rolls said it all. Maybe they were right. I had not skied in years. What if I fell broke an important bone like the toe and tailbone? Bones, that like so much in life, are taken for granted, and only appreciated when absent or not working.
For half an hour, I trampled by the city streets with skis and a backpack slung across my shoulders. Joy bubbled in my heart. The afternoon was warm and sunny. It was only zero degrees. This is warm by Canadian standards when the temperature can drop to -40 degrees.
Courage fell when I reached the park. I felt too old to be out skiing for a lark. The hills were filled with people on toboggans and snow-boards. They were young. In mid-life one gains perspective. There was no shame in deciding that skiing was for the young and reckless.
Then I saw some slim parallel tracks in the snow. They were a bit of encouragement when I needed it. The tracks proved that I was not the only idiot skiing in the city park. Out came the skis. Out went the thoughts and fear of falling.
I skied along the flat areas in a twisted loop. My body quickly remembered the basics of skiing. Just pretend that you are walking, only with two six-foot boards attached to your feet. It was a perfectly normal thing to do!
An old couple passed by with skis from the dinosaur era. They were wooden and the poles were made from bamboo. The duo was relaxed as they glided along. We shouted encouragement to each other. When I am old, I want to be like them – fit and confident enough to have fun in the snow. But, minus the ancient skis.
Wisdom banged on my head. It is not a good idea to ski straight down the hill when you are not sure of how to stop. A semi-frozen pond was at the bottom of the hill. I did not want to make that kind of splash. I focused on mastering control of the skis. It took about two hours. Only then, was I confident enough to go a quarter of the way up the hill, and ski down very slowly.
I want to ski from the top of the hill. And stop at the bottom. Not flat on my face. Stop, using a perfectly executed snow-plough. There are three months of snow ahead. Time enough to master the ski hill and the art of stopping.
© Jacqueline L. Scott
Jacqueline L. Scott is attempting to be her own life coach. The blog charts her progress as she moves from being frustrated to being content with her life. It focuses on fun, money, work and wellness. You can leave a comment and follow her on Twitter @JabberScott.
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