Well, what a month...
3 weeks off skis, hobbling bad; thinking that the season is over, until it wasn't. The MRI showed a meniscus torn, not just pulled; a scope's a probable, smart thing. The question is when...
Couple days later, I can walk again, more smoothly; few more days, and the movement isn't so bad. Could I ski now? Really? And, at what level? Cut to the chase, the surgeon and case worker for physical therapy, both say, I paraphrase here, "try it dude, what's the worst that can happen, we cut more when we cut. If you make it through the season, we can scope it in the late spring..."
Amazingly enough, turning a ski is easier than walking. What a celebration! So about the self lessons, internal speak to my soul:
Lesson 1: allowing the ski to do the work, allowed flow, no stress on body parts. hmmmm...
Lesson 2: a few days later, my first bumps. And glory be, bumps were easier to ski than groomed terrain. This being the case as long as I am centered, actively centered, moving with my skis in the direction of travel. hmmmm... this is sounding more and more like a summary of skiing mechanics 101... and leadership effectiveness...
Lesson 3: moving slower in the bumps allowed a more effective blending of all a ski does (simple, not easy: the ski only turns, tips and flexes)... the challenge of course is the ski does these things easliy only if and when the body is actively centered, in balance with the ski. This means active, subtle or not so, movement with the tools under foot. darn, simple not easy, "do the right thing" this takes being mindful, conscious and active participation...
Lesson 4: trust the bio mechanics and move with the skis... guess what Rudedog, your body doesn't ache... joy is the word that comes to mind... pure joy.
Lesson 5: first time in crud and pow, with high level trainers in a clinic. So goes my confidence, victum hood shows up if not full time, on and off all day. Excuses take the place of actively being engaged, and moving counter-intuitively, down the hill... "hell, I could hurt myself!" So, of course, I come close to doing so by holding back... thank god for compadres, colleauges that urge me on with heart and support... on occasion, I find myself moving fluidly even in heavier snow, tighter chutes and trees. I find myself so human, so frail, so scared at times... and then joy shows up... flow... no pain... how can this be? "Rudy move with the skis dude."
Lesson 6: A couple days later, many of the same crew, high level skiing. Some how I am here again. This time, flow shows up; not easy, but more than a couple days earlier... progress... perhaps... Heck, I am just thrilled to be here; with this group of folks, in powder again, and even more in flow.
Lesson 7: Each day is joy. The reality of being outside in flow (even if only part time) is a gift I appreciate more than I can really type out. Every day of movement is one more that I had no expectation for. More so, expectation of anything close to higher level movement patterns, moving down the mountain in varried terrain and higher speed than I would have ever guessed a mere 3 weeks ago. Yet, here I am...
So, flow, counter-intuitive movement, trust, TRUST... who knew? Some yogi somewhere no doubt. Did I trust, have I trusted enough? I am learning to trust?
When I was worried about slowing others down, they supported me. Ironically, if I had been them, I would do the same. Yet, as the injured/slow guy, I had no picture of me in support of them. What a treat, a lesson to simply appreciate the support, rather than get caught in ego and worry of "not being enough."
When I was worried about my knee working, I was timid, moving slow, holding back... instead of moving into a turn, down the hill, with the skis... the absolute opposite of what would normally be called smart. In skiing, this movement is the smartest thing I can do and did. I am learning.
Last, BE-ing in appreciation, in joy here, does not mean be stupid. Being interested, willing to risk in stepping stone, small ways, to move my personal boundaries of movement, does not mean be stupid. Some may disagree, so be it. Have I been fearless? No, scared out of my mind a few times in the exploration of boundary. And, with each calculated experiment, growing confidence. So, I am learning stuff I had not really expected:
1. Fearless does not mean don't be scared.
2. Confidence and experiment does not need to equate to cockiness.
3. Friends care: they give you room, they give you support. And, ask for what you need. I realize more than ever that If I don't, I have only myself to blame. Very cool.
4. My invitation is to explore your limits. In Gestalt, I was taught that "contact happens at the boundary."
If I had passion for skiing before, there is only more now. Each day is a bonus... wow! How true. I invite you to find your boundary, explore, and be, in-JOY.
by the way, its dumping snow... another hand full of days of daily powder!
More soon!
Rm
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