Coming to neutral

Right now, in my skiing, I am working on coming to neutral as I begin a new turn. The reason that I need to come to neutral is to re-balance and establish a stable platform for the new turn. I've been visualizing and thinking about this part of the turn for most of the week, and as usual, my thoughts didn't follow a linear path but moved laterally (which is actually what I want to do when I ski). My thoughts turned to the life lesson inherent in coming to neutral before beginning a new turn.

Many of my friends are programmed to go, go, go. To stop and be with alone with themselves is a feeling never learned or abandoned. I suspect at least some of my friends are afraid to be alone with themselves. This makes me sad because they are missing out on knowing their own inner richness and beauty. To actually stop is scary so I have been reflecting on the notion of coming to neutral as a means of helping them see that that constantly going is a recipe for imbalance just as flipping from edge to edge when skiing will eventually cause imbalance.

Years ago, I also was afraid to be alone with myself. I was a classic type A achiever and if someone suggested that I might want to try yoga or meditation, my reaction was "yuck, that is too slow for me". I would go into the office on weekends. I recall flying to Calgary on a Sunday afternoon after one of my daughter's birthday parties. I didn't take summer holidays when others were off because I believed that I would then attend higher-profile meetings in their absence. When I wasn't at work, I would bury myself in a book, sometimes reading even as I stirred the pasta pot. On a Sunday afternoon, I would feel the urge to go to the mall just because I thought I had nothing else to do. I have learned now to be alone with myself. I can sit in a room and just be... When I am too busy, go, go going, I yearn for that time alone with myself and deliberately carve out a time and place. I did, however, learn to be alone by taking small steps. These steps, for me, were akin to coming to neutral.

My first small step was to begin a conscious program of exercise. Moving helped me reconnect with myself. My next steps involved long drives in the car with music. The drives had purpose; they were usually to and from the mountains but the time in the car was mine alone. From music in the car, I turned to music in the living room with headphones on. I began to pay attention when I cooked, to savor the aroma of garlic and red peppers sauteing in olive oil, to inhale the scent of oranges studded with cloves. And several years after I began re-balancing, I attended my first yoga class with one of those friends who, ironically, has not yet learned to come to neutral. Yoga is now a central part of my life and one of the means by which I pay attention to myself and the moment.

Life is a series of moments. They are all connected, just like one ski turn flows into the next. The lessons in my life are interconnected with my lessons from sport, which is precisely why I love sport so much. To move freely, to balance on edges, to un-edge, re-balance and move freely again are characteristics of skiing that embody many of the qualities that I want in my life. Coming to neutral is necessary to be balanced and I aspire to that flow in both skiing and life.

Namaste,
Ginny