I Have the Mountain

People are disappointing, but at least I have the mountain. I had some of the best snowboarding I've had in years yesterday in a storm that was reaching blizzard proportions. It's pretty incredible to me that they even let us up there and as always on a snowy windy day, it was fresh tracks every day.

But that's not the reason why I'm taking yet another break from the annals of self-publishing - where I've hit a wall of my own making anyway. I wanted to write about the relief it is to get out of my head and into the elements and be in my body. Because when it's that intense, I don't have a choice but to get out of my despondency and deal with my immediate world. The first few runs yesterday, I was so upset I was actually crying. But it wasn't the weather that was psyching me out. It was people. People I trusted and had affection for. People who I offered much of myself to and supported and was kind. I did not get that kind of affection and friendship and support and appreciation in return. What I got was a kick in the teeth and that's putting it mildly. I really hurt due to the actions and self-centeredness and narcissistic stupidity of lesser women who I thought were my friends. I found out they weren't.

So yesterday on the mountain, I was crying over these bitches. I wasn't in my body at all. I was in my mind, in my incessant brooding over the questions: Why? How could they? How dare they treat me like that? In the meantime, the wind was blowing so hard, snowflakes were making a white out. I couldn't see the snow or the trees or anything else; I couldn't find my place in space. It's hard to find your balance when everything is white. Where am I in this world? And I fell over and over again. For a few runs, it was like this.

And then it became sweet. I realized I just to let it go and be in the space I was in right now and that space was beautiful. The wind was bitter against my face, the snow was intimidating, the white was endless. But I found my groove and I can't remember the last time I moved so freely through the powder. It was effortless. I was riding through the steep and the deep, and moving fast and I felt like I was hardly using any energy at all. I just couldn't stop riding and before I knew it, I was hooting and hollering and having a grand old time. I knew I would always be okay if I can always have moments and days like this. Nobody else matters when I'm riding like that. I even made last chair with 2 minutes to spare. And that run was the sweetest of all.

Today I feel much better. I will never again be friends with anybody who doesn't think I'm awesome. Nobody should, really.

Thank you for reading.