News from Jules | 04.10.2023 | Boldly Go
I had just snuck in the Hoodoo Ski Patrol Lodge very clearly marked: No Unauthorized Personnel, so it was a great relief to hear an older gentleman say: “Are you Jules?”
Phew, I was in the right place.
A few nights before when I saw the text that friends from Portland were coming down to ski at Hoodoo mid-week, I immediately thought, “Oh hell yeah,” and imagined myself on the slopes beside them.
After my first season of mountaineering in 2021, I really wanted to get back into skiing last winter, alas the snowflakes were not aligned. Now another opportunity was popping up this season! Luckily, I was off that Wednesday, but my first paycheck was still a week away, so I couldn’t afford the lift ticket and rental gear. There had to be a way.
A reminder: Ask for what you need.
After asking around during my shift at the art gallery and restaurant on Tuesday and texting a couple of neighbors at Black Butte Ranch, I had a loaner helmet with goggles and a comped lift ticket waiting for me at the lodge the next day.
Fresh snow, cobalt skies, warm weather, and no lines. It was another bluebird day on the mountain. I sure was getting lucky!
While I stood in the Ski Patrol Lodge chatting with the generous gentleman and looking out the large picture windows, it started coming back to me. Everything was familiar. I had been here before. Well, not in the restricted Ski Patrol area, but at this ski resort. I had flashbacks of bombing down runs and flirting with guys on the lifts with my middle school friends.
That young, fearless, unselfconscious self.
While we made connections—between me working with his son-in-law, growing up in Oregon, recently coming to Sisters, and just getting back on skis after a 15-year hiatus—the man’s kind, chatty personality was also familiar. He was just like “Uncle Mike,” one of the Mogul Busters ski instructors I had for years who all felt like surrogate aunts and uncles each winter.
As I walked down the stairs to meet my friends, he yelled after me: “You’ve got this. Have a blast today!”
A smile spread across my face. I felt confident: I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
But, within the hour I was faceplanted in the snow on our first run, an easy green one to warm up. Shaking my head in disbelief and confusion, I gathered up my skis and reset my bindings.
“What happened?” my friend asked.
“I don’t know! I just skied a few weeks ago and I crushed it. We were doing black diamonds and I didn’t fall once,” I replied.
My mind immediately started to question my prodigy return to skiing as simply re-beginner’s luck. Like so many moments this year, I knew doubt was a choice. I could stay centered or I could spin out.
As we glided down the rest of the gentle run to the lift line, I had to reset my mind.
I’ve been taking a lot of risks lately—okay sure I always do, so maybe taking more risks—and I have noticed how quickly doubt leads to worry leads to fear.
According to Wikipedia, doubt on an emotional level is indecision between belief and disbelief: “I think I believe this, but maybe I don’t.” It may involve uncertainty, distrust or lack of conviction. Doubt can result in delaying or rejecting relevant action out of concern for mistakes.
We hesitate and waver, overthink and worry.
It’s hard to tell if the worry is rooted in caution—maybe this is actually unsafe—or in ego—what are others going to think of me. Either way, worry leads to fear.
And fear is how we actually get hurt.
I summoned this year’s mantra: Fear Less and headed back up the mountain. A couple of hours later we were all warmed up and ready to try a black diamond. Without hesitation, I sunk forward into my boots, took a deep breath, and boldly shot out of my imaginary starting gate.
The faster I flew, the stronger I felt.
I barely had time to reassure myself: You got this girl before I zoomed into the lift line, breathing hard and spraying snow. I felt so capable, so full of myself.
That exhilarating whole-self experience where my intuition, senses, and environment are all attuned, channeling creativity and confidence.
Just like I’ve discovered when I’m climbing a mountain or a challenging route at the rock climbing gym. Or drawing a landscape or writing a newsletter.
And just like I’ve been living into these past six weeks of simple, small-town mountain life.
Acting on my strengths and following my faith.
May you feel full of yourself this week.
Love,
Jules