Stay in Your Lane
My family recently took our first ski trip. My husband, Eric, had skied before when he was growing up, but the kids and I had never skied. This was new territory for us. To be very honest, my first experience with skiing was not fabulous. Consequently the majority of my frustrations didn’t even come from the dislike of skiing, but from the pressure and insistence of others who seemingly found it impossible for anyone to dislike skiing. During this whole ordeal I started seeing a biblical parallel…stay in your lane, and I’m not talking about a physical skiing lane although that’s probably a relevant lesson also! 😉
First, ski lessons
I’ll admit that I was a bit apprehensive from the start. Although I love the mountains, I’m not a big fan of cold weather. I’m also not very athletic. Coordination is not a particular skill of mine. For some reason my head knows what to do but my arms, legs, hands, and feet don’t always cooperate. I’m also not particularly fond of falling or getting hurt, which I knew would be inevitable when learning to ski in my mid-40s. I’m not quite as physically resilient as my kiddos.
Nevertheless, I’m a brave soul, so I proceeded with a fairly open mind. My daughter and I signed up for ski lessons (ignoring my husband’s advice to “just watch YouTube videos”). I knew about an hour into our 3 hour lesson that skiing was NOT for me. However, I pressed on with the lesson. After all, what kind of message would I be sending to my daughter to start something and not finish it? I’m not a quitter, and I don’t like to be defeated. That being said though, I typically know my boundaries and my personal preferences. I quickly learned that I did not like skiing, no matter how hard I tried to master the skill.
I opted not to ski the rest of day. Instead, I just enjoyed observing. The next day, I attempted the bunny slopes again. Then, against my better judgement, I allowed my husband to convince me to graduate up to the next size slope. Let’s just say a crash was involved, which resulted in a hurt elbow and knee and me removing my skis and marching the rest of the way down instead. That ended my attempts at skiing for the rest of the trip, even though in hindsight it’s kind of a funny memory now.
Why is it NOT okay for me to dislike skiing?!
The main problem I encountered though was not my inability to ski or my lack of love for it but instead the confrontations of people who insisted on my love and appreciation of skiing. It seemed unfathomable to some people that I just didn’t like it. I was consistently being pressured to keep trying, don’t give up, you’ll get the hang of it, you’ll like it if you just keep trying, you just need to overcome your fear, and on and on. I felt like people were trying to force me to do something that I KNEW internally was just not me, not in my wheelhouse, and not a part of my preferences. Why couldn’t people just understand that?!
To me it’s kind of like eating salmon. I don’t care how many times I try it (and believe me I keep trying it over and over…for years) or how it’s prepared, I hate salmon. It triggers my gag reflex. Bleh! Or…like running. You know those people that live for the next 5K or marathon? I’m not one of those either. I love walking. Running…not so much….unless something is chasing me. But then again, you have those people who insist on running being the best, most exhilarating form of exercise, and they want everyone else to love it just as much as they do. Have you ever met those people?
Maybe not everyone is a skier. Maybe some people are skiers, and some are runners, and maybe some are just observers or hikers or fisherman (another situation where I’d rather just sit and observe or ride along and read a book). Could it possibly be that maybe, just maybe, everyone can have different preferences, and hobbies, and roles? Might it not work out even better if people were different and had different tastes and different talents? Wouldn’t it be HORRIBLE if everyone were exactly the same?!