Over the weekend, I took my child cross-country skiing for the first time. I was cautiously optimistic, because athletics are often not “his vibe” (this is the latest 7-year-old lingo), but I thought that maybe—with a supportive friend along—he might get into it.
As I anticipated, the event involved a lot of falling and tangled skis. I balanced (literally) trying to find my own footing on skis and dragging him up from the ground, over and over. This continued for about an hour, while his friend—an experienced skier—did literal laps around us.
I expected my child to call “uncle” at any moment, but there we were: gritting our way up a hill, even enjoying the scenery and sun at times! At one point towards the end he said “I might want to do a second lap! Maybe…” I swear there were no fewer than 50 falls involved, but he spoke enthusiastically about the experience for the rest of the weekend.
I felt a little emotional as I watched him struggle—not because I glorify suffering or embrace a “no pain, no gain” attitude, but because I’m often reluctant to let myself be a true beginner. Because I often forget that hard things (and difficult emotions) are a part of being human, and not a sign of my individual shortcoming. We get to be awkward! It gets to be hard.
It’s human stuff: we experience the loss of beloved people, dreams, jobs, and parts of ourselves we outgrow; we transition (sometimes constantly, it seems); we bump into unexpected external circumstances; we make our way through the sub-zero temperatures of Minnesota winter.
In this season (literally and metaphorically), I am learning that the more I embrace what is—and let myself feel it, rather than fighting it—the faster my relationship to the hard stuff begins to shift.
I’m also reminded that we can hold both: we can take breaks to find softness, even when the hard stuff doesn’t have a tidy resolution or we don’t know when the metaphorical winter-ing will end. We can hold joy and intensity at the same time.
And, we can remember that we are in good company: that we’re all, in some way or another, awkwardly finding our way up the hill. I wish us all more moments of acknowledging that:
“Can you believe this damn hill? But also, look at that sun!”
(It’s also ok if you just see the hill right now.)
We can do (and feel) hard things. Here’s to you, regardless of the season you’re in.
Recent soft delights:
A video of Annie Lenox and David Bowie singing “Under Pressure” (great for days when I’m feeling under pressure…)
Perfume Genius on the Song Exploder podcast (all of the episodes are great to listen to laying on the floor, eyes closed)
Ada Limón’s interview on the Ezra Klein podcast is so comforting
Reading poems by Ada Limón and Ocean Vuong
I just started reading the YA novel Darius The Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram, and I love it. So much heart!
This incredible edit by David Ehrlich of his 25 Best Films of 2022, shared by my dear friend Betsy, has brought me a lot of joy. The choreography of his edits! Truly spectacular.
A reminder that Minnesota winter is made possible by candles, twinkle lights, hot baths, good sleep, and weekly pots of soup.
Also: Yoga with Adriene. These tiny practices are a treat, and always make me feel a little calmer.
One more thing: my friend Yarrow started a movement podcast, which they say embraces “movement for the sake of joy and better mental health, true acceptance and weight neutrality.” YES! I’m excited to listen. Yarrow has such a reassuring voice.
Take good care.
I found that cross-country skiing story both relatable and deeply moving! Your kiddo has me thinking of the times I have fallen flat on my face (literally or metaphorically) and enthusiastically talked about it afterwards. A good reminder for me that along with the hard and cringe of being a beginner, there is also a lot of excitement, enthusiasm, and sense of possibility. Thank you for these nourishing words.
"Because I often forget that hard things (and difficult emotions) are a part of being human, and not a sign of my individual shortcoming." Yep, same. I need to be reminded often! Thanks Laura, I love this story.