Snow surrounds me and the multi-layers of ski clothing that I am wearing are not completely protecting me from the strong chill of the wind. As I sail up the mountain on a ski lift that I have never ridden before, I have to wonder why I do things like this to myself. This mountain is new to me and the peak is being hugged by far away clouds. I look at the slopes and fear grips my heart. I say to my husband, "Greg, are you sure we will be going down a blue run? I’m getting scared!" Greg assures me that we will ski down a blue, which is what the intermediate slopes are called.
It’s taken me five years to graduate from the greens, also known as beginner slopes, and move toward the blues. Perhaps I was a little too sure of myself though. Why didn’t I just stay on the easy blues? Why did I feel compelled to push myself over to the more difficult blue runs? My thoughts rattle on and I let them take over. Looking back, I have to wonder why I didn’t stop my negative thoughts and assure mySelf that I was ready for this new run.
As Greg and I begin our trip down this new slope, it is not so bad at first. I am unsteady at times but able to maintain enough balance to stay upright. I know that eventually the blue will turn into a green and then I can relax. Then, it happens. I reach a part of the slope that seems to drop straight down. Oh dear, what do I do? I know that if I fall it will be really tough to get up on a hill like this.
I pause and study the hill. Nothing I think about makes it look smaller or easier. I watch some four-year-old kids go down this hill like there is nothing to it. I know that they don’t have as far to fall and their bones heal faster than mine do, but they still inspire me. If kids can do this, so can I!
I point my skis toward the slope and begin my journey downward. Greg is waiting for me below so I’m on my own. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh....KERPLUNK! I’m down and I am certain I can’t get up so I barely try. Here is the embarrassing part. I allow my rear end to slowly scooch down the hill and my skis are still on my feet so I’m dragging them along with me. I’m praying that no one will come flying over the hill and crash into me. I want to disappear and I hate skiing! I wish I had a sled so I could coast down this steep hill and be done with it. I stop and rest. It feels as if I will never reach safety again.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a man appears. "Are you alright?" I tell him, "yes, I’m alright. I’m just worn out and I can’t get up." He lifts me up as if I am a feather and I am standing on my skis again. He gives me good advice. "Just stay here for a minute and rest. Let your body recover." I am happy to do that. I thank him profusely and after a few minutes I tell him that I am ready to go. Fortunately, I ski down the rest of that steep slope with ease and finally, my ordeal has ended.
Later, I think about this experience and it dawns on my that I never once considered asking anyone for help. I felt that I got myself into this situation and so I had to save myself. Slowly sliding down the hill on my rear end while wearing skis was not the best solution to my predicament. However, I thought I was taking care of myself.
Well, I have to say, it is stupid to NOT ask for help when you need help. It makes much more sense to immediately hope, pray and ask for help when you are scared, exhausted, overwhelmed, stuck or lonely. My crisis came to an abrupt end because of my willingness to accept someone's help.
I wonder if I will ever get past playing the role of strong, independent woman who does not need help? I’ve worked on this issue so much and yet still there is a part of me that often chooses to go it alone. Having this revelation, again, makes me glad I took that fall and sat on that mountain alone until someone rescued me. Yes, I would have eventually made it down that hill on my own, but having a helping hand made the ending to my story much sweeter.
Will I go skiing again? Yes! I love staying fully present when I am skiing down the side of a mountain. I am completely in my body and totally alive in the moment. While I do love being surrounded by snow and beauty, I have to say I am a southern belle who is not a big fan of cold weather. Even so, that is not enough to keep me away from the snow covered mountains. Feeling fully present in any situation is one of the things that gives life meaning for me. So, yes, I will go back to that slope with the scary hill on it, and next year, I’ll conquer it...and if I don’t, I will not hesitate to ask someone nearby to help me get back on my feet again.
How much do you ask for help in your life? What holds you back from asking for help? What makes it easy for you to ask for help?
More ski stories
Never Too Late
Dream and Believe
Recent Comments