If we want to live fully, we’ve got to give it all we’ve got.

Where do you long to lean into life?

Jan 9, 2009.  I’m only 30 minutes from my desk, but I feel, literally, as if I am on top of the world.

Six of us huddle close at 6,ooo feet, drinking in views  that stretch into Montana and British Columbia. Peering down, we watch sunlight toy with softening clouds nestled over the lake  below.  All by itself, the view is enough.   But Gary is talking. 

“Roll from your big toe edges, across the flat part of your skis, to your baby toe edges. Now, in the part of your turn where are you are on flat ski, stay there longer. Hang out in that feeling. You’ll have more power going into your next turn.  Try it.”

Gary, early seventies, retired hand surgeon, coaxes the five us of to trust the mountain- to lean downhill.  Brilliant, funny, and kind, he knows his skiing. I trust him, so I give myself fully to learning.

I seek out that moment of suspension, in between turns.  Quietly skimming over snow, I allow myself to accelerate into my next turn.  For a moment in time, I am simply floating in space.

The feeling is pure exhilaration.

We keep skiing, joyful in that moment of free fall.  Next though, moving over onto a steep black diamond, where the mountain falls away, I’m suddenly nervous.  My body knows that new feeling though, and I want more of it.  I commit to finding that moment again, and it works – beautifully!  

Giving myself so fully into the shape of the turn, I am perfectly aligned for full power in the next turn, and the next.  I’m hooked. After class, I swing back up and make three more solo runs, down that steep pitch, savoring this new feeling of 100% commitment, trusting the mountain, trusting myself, trusting life.

Where do you long to give yourself to the mountain?

Willingness.  Skiing well requires a willingness to trust the mountain, to believe in what we cannot see.  Leaning downhill, giving our mass over to physics, creates more traction, more power, more connection with the slope and the snow.  With this simple act, we open the possibility of mastery.

Commitment. Whatever the challenge we face, there is this moment of commitment, in which some intangible part of us needs to lean downhill.  When we do, something intangible comes to meet us.

From The Scottish Himalayan Expedition, Murray, 1951

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.  Concerning all active of initiative (and creation) there is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:

That the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.   A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.  I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:

“Whatever you can do,

or dream you can,

begin it.

Boldness has genius,

power, and magic in it.”

Where do you most want to commit fully?

What will help you begin?

Friday, I learned something completely new.  At 6,000 feet, bathed in bright sunshine and bitter cold, Gary taught us how to spin 360s on our skis. 

At first I thought he was kidding.  This was something for the instructor to show off with… not something for our mature gang of skiers to try.  

I was wrong.  “You’ve got to commit to flat skis.”  He was talking us through.

I was hesitant.  With my left hip my weakest link, I did not even want to try.

With my eyes dropped down, I gave a few half-hearted attempts, and then looked up, expecting confirmation that this would not work.  What I saw startled me: my older peers, some of them less practiced in balance and flexibility, starting to truly spin.

Hmmnm.  As a coach, I know willingness can trump ability.

This got me.  I’m not a die-hard skier, but my off-mountain fitness practices often give me an edge, especially when Gary teaches us tricks, like skiing on one ski.

So I committed.  I pictured myself spinning.  I felt a surge of playful energy course through me as I held the image.

What do you want to experience, learn, discover?

Where do you need to commit?

See yourself succeeding.  Feel the feeling success will bring.

Shifting internally from resistance to willingness, realizing I wanted that playful sensation – that look of delight on the others faces – I hunkered back into practice. 

Where is lack of willingness impeding your ability to make progress?

The secrets?  First off, flat edges.  The skis stay completely flat on the snow to allow rotation to happen. Here is the challenge: in most skiing, using ski edges pressing down is one the primary means to turn and to manage speed.   Read: control.   

This is one of those great life moments where attempting to control in traditional ways can be a barrier. To be able to pivot around, I had to be willing to let go of my urge to control the rotation by leaning onto the edges of my skis.  

Where is a desire to maintain control restricting your ability to allow something new to come to form?

Progress.  Partial turns.  Progress is good!  I was learning!  Something was still sticking though – even though I had surrendered my edges. 

 A new batch of skiers slipped by.  I looked up.  I rotated, on flat skis, while looking up, and I spun my first 360!

Balance.  Relaxation.  Alignment.  This is what shifted.  When I was hunkered down, I was trying too hard.  I had released my edges, but I had not softened into relaxation, so that my body could follow the initial rotational movement all the way to completion.  I was essentially still fighting myself.

I stopped and applied what I know.  I settled my attention and my breath into my deep center, and allowed my neck and shoulders to relax.  I opened up my vision to take in the wide angle (owl eyes.)

The next spins came with ease!  

Where might you look up, get perspective, breathe into your center, allow your shoulders to drop, and allow a new movement to come to form?

Another ah-ha.  Coaching, I know that opening up our physical stance, and relaxing those muscles we habitually hold tightly can help us breathe better, increase our oxygen supply, allow new moves.

Learning to spin on skis was no different.  Creating a relaxed centered presence on my skis, the spirals came with ease. 

 What do you most want to learn?