I first put on a pair of skis a decade ago. It wasn’t love at first sight – it took me a few days of trial (with a lot of error) before I began falling in love. That love has only deepened over the last decade. Every time I go out into the mountains, I find myself reflecting and remembering a few powerful ideas. I thought I’d share that compilation:
(1) Enormous amounts of effort for a few glorious minutes. It takes a lot of preparation to go onto the slopes. The equipment is heavy and hard to put on. You often need to carry it for significant distances. Every stop involves effort to get back to the lift. And, if you’re with kids, you can double the complexity. In sum, it is an involved process. For every 6-8 hours spent preparing and getting on the slopes, actual slope time is often just over an hour.
This never fails to remind me of the outsized role of preparation and process in this life. It takes an enormous amount of process to enjoy a few glorious minutes with good results. The tougher the journey, the sweeter the destination. Joy wouldn’t be good if it wasn’t for the pain.
(2) The fundamentals are always a few. Skiing boils down to three fundamental lessons. The first is learning how to turn with skis parallel by putting our weight on the outside leg. The second is learning to lean forward to stay in control. And the third is learning how to navigate the chairlift. Each of these involves mastering something that is counter-intuitive – it isn’t intuitive at first to put our weight on our outside leg, it feels crazy to lean forward when we’re moving down a slope, and it takes time to let the chairlift come to you and nudge you forward.
There are very few fundamental lessons in any practice. And they’re always counter-intuitive.
(3) Learning happens fastest when the consequences are real. I’ve both watched and attempted to teach a lot of folks over the years. Those who learn quickly have one thing in common – they’re willing to let themselves pick up enough speed to master how to turn.
That willingness means embracing a bit of risk as you are more likely to fall. But that consequence also creates the perfect conditions for us to learn how to turn.
Learnings happens fastest when the consequences are real.
(4) Trust but verify. When you’re skiing downhill, you always need to have trust in those behind you. You’ll often hear loud noises (snowboarders! :-)) and some folks don’t do the best job with ski etiquette. But trust is a part of the deal. Just as those ahead of you trust you to work around their paths.
However, 100% trust is a bad idea. There’s often a crazy person who loses control or does something stupid. Look up before you merge. Trust, but verify.
(5) Blue slopes and happiness. Ski slopes are split into green (easy), blue (intermediate), black (challenging), and double back (very challenging – typically with moguls/bumps or rocks). I learnt skiing as an adult – so I’ve stayed away from attempting to learn how to navigate double black terrain which tends to be challenging but comes with injury risk.
The fascinating thing, however, is that blue slopes are a great place to be for most people. The best terrain in most mountains tends to be intermediate terrain – they often have the best views and the longest runs.
I think money and possessions work similarly. Having too little can be a problem. While it is always tempting to keep trying to get more, having just enough tends to unlock a happy life without all the trouble that comes with always seeking more.
(6) The small things are the big things. The best mountains aren’t just about the terrain. They’re masters of the small details – ease of parking, watchful lift operators, lift areas that don’t involve steep climbs or drops, clear signage, and well-organized cafes.
The small things are the big things.
(7) You’ll know when you’ve done the work. Once you have good technique, a day on the slopes will always give you feedback on your fitness levels. Every place you haven’t worked out enough will hurt.
As it is in this life, you’ll know when you’ve done the work. There’s no place to hide.
(8) Conscious -> unconscious -> spiritual. While I’m no expert (see #5), a day in the mountains has become a spiritual experience. It means putting my body to work, having conversations with friends and family, smelling the fresh mountain air, and taking in the nature all around.
When we apply ourselves to a practice, we start with conscious focus. Over time, the fundamentals become second nature and we learn to enjoy the practice without thinking about it. And, in time, it becomes a spiritual experience.
(9) Privilege is the ability to focus on the wants. I didn’t know what skiing was growing up. Even if I did know what it was, we wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Every day I spend out in the mountains, I’m reminded that privilege is when I’m able to focus on the wants without worrying about the needs.
It is a massive gift.
And always a good reminder to make it count when I’m back at work.
