I went skiing for my birthday last month. As I stood on the top of the Cornice, I looked out into the distance, and as I often do, I was amazed at the beauty of the mountain ranges before me. The wind wasn't howling, so I paused and soaked in the beauty of what I was looking at. The distance so clear, so sharp, so magnificent.
Then I turned my attention to the lip of the Cornice. Skiing off that edge is a leap of faith I've written about before. To make that first turn requires complete focus and trust in your own skills and strength. To go forward into that which you can't see is always a little scary. You must be in the moment, completely in the moment, so that you can deal with whatever the mountain throws at you. The first time you ski into the abyss, the conditions are unknown, you may have to make slight adjustments. What if someone falls before you, what if you hit ice, what if?? You could go crazy if you play the what if game. Therefore, I take a deep breath, and I go. I know I can handle whatever is thrown at me because I have before. I believe in my strength. I love the ride.
Yet, last month I had a slightly different thought. the distance was so clear and sunny. The immediate slope was in the shade, and was unseen. It felt a little like my life. I look at a year from now and I know, I'll be OK. I don't know exactly what my reality will be, but I know I'll make it OK. Yet, my immediate present is scary and unseen. Still I can't stand on the ledge and not move. Therefore, I must take a deep breath and go forward. There is no choice.
Tomorrow I will have surgery, I don't know exactly what that surgery will entail, but I trust my surgeons. I have been down this mountain before, but the conditions are always a little different. I know I may hit ice patches in my journey, but I have faith in myself and my amazing support network. So, I will turn off the ledge and find my down the mountain so that I can make it to the distance. That distance that is so bright and sunshiny. I will get there somehow!