Can Am

“Why do I do this?”

The question was made in jest as I exited my car and felt the zero degree temperature. It was really an affirmation rather than a question. If it were to have been an actual question, then I would have thought the answer was self evident. Last year, that was not always the case.

Every season, I debate whether or not to purchase a season pass. By the time the lifts open, I seem to forget that I invested in a long term season pass worth of gear years ago. The only additional expense is the cost of fuel. I frequently forget to factor in the cost of not using my earned turn season pass more often.

Can Am

A narrative is a story or account of connected events. The narrative of every ski season varies significantly year to year, but each season’s narrative always includes a beginning. Let’s call today the preface to a new narrative.

My own narrative became contaminated. I developed a false self narrative and I followed the script off a cliff. The story began to frame me instead of me framing the story. The narrative no longer felt like my own. But in an insidious way, it still felt like I was writing the story. A default program stuck in an infinite loop; the story would not progress, the next page could not be turned.

I cannot control the narrative of the ski season. But I can (exert the illusion of) control (over) my own narrative. I can choose how to present the narrative arc of the protagonist. I can stop the record from skipping incessantly. I can lift the record off the turntable and break it apart like the problematic unconscious self narrative that was endlessly repeating in my head. I choose to recast my tale.

Reach out for help.

And then reach for the next sheet of paper, reach for a pen, and start writing again.

Reach for a summit that once inspired you and then open yourself up to be inspired again.