"Attend Ski to Live and feel like you've taken a four week vacation." Am trying that on for a slogan?
Hmmm. It's true.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sunday, November 4, 2007
The Path of Injury
By Kristen Ulmer, for your enjoyment
Do you love to ski perhaps, or sky dive, maybe wrestle goats? Great choices! Problem is, even if you just play Yahtzee, you’re probably gonna break a bone/ligament/gasket at some point. Damn dice.
But not to worry- that compound femur fracture is simply not a problem! Just pop 4 Advil and find a massage therapist (throw in a 5 hour reconstructive surgery too, if you have the time).
This may come as a wee surprise though, but turns out injury (shhh) ain’t that easy. Of course denial comes first, then acceptance (hello- the bone is actually sticking out of your leg), until weeks later as your couch cushion starts to form a black hole in the shape of your flattening butt, when resistance takes over. Us humans always seek identity, and with injury-- even if you mask it behind a joke or smile—getting stuck in “this is terrible” or feeling like a victim usually becomes your new identity. You’re no longer the stockbroker, the yodeler, heck you’re not even Frank or Mary anymore but rather: “the guy who broke his leg.” Life quickly becomes a grasp toward the future: “I’ll be happy once I’m strong, then I’ll be my old self again.”
Your old self though- is that wise? Imagine you’re expecting a hard fastball, which you planned to knock out of the park, but instead are tossed a hanging curve ball. Would you really just stand there, bat on shoulder, complaining “Hey! This isn’t what I wanted!” and wait for the next pitch?
No, you’d take a swing at that ball. Injury is an amazing opportunity, but if you don’t embrace it, you may miss the lessons. You must submit to blackness in order to find a brighter light-- Pain? That’s where great art is always birthed. Being reliant on another person? That’s the exact makeup of romantic love.
And being on crutches, or hooked up to a whirling machine? Wow! Even the 5-year olds know-- the person on crutches is always the most interesting in the room. Everyone wants to know what happened, because privately they’re all going through their own, most recent ‘injury.’
Life is about injury, that’s why the movie American Beauty was so popular. The key is to embrace your own sad movie- the energy there is staggering, especially if you watch it over and over until you feel all the hidden layers. So with this newly broken body, why not crawl on your knees across the floor to pet the dog. Have a stranger carry you down the stairs and appreciate it. Learn how to finally play bridge, and take the time to actually listen to your breathing.
Do this, and when you’re much older-- lying on your hospital bed now, breathing slower every minute—you’ll look out the window at a snowstorm and remember your skiing trips, or how much you loved those goats. Suddenly you’ll recall that broken femur back in ’07. “Wow, I broke my leg!” you’ll think. “The bone was sticking out- it was gross!” That was when you starred in your own sad movie, swung at the curve ball. You’ll hold that injury with reverence, as the time you cried the most, felt the most pain, and couldn’t escape anymore, the reality of being truly, exquisitely human.
By Kristen Ulmer, for your enjoyment
Do you love to ski perhaps, or sky dive, maybe wrestle goats? Great choices! Problem is, even if you just play Yahtzee, you’re probably gonna break a bone/ligament/gasket at some point. Damn dice.
But not to worry- that compound femur fracture is simply not a problem! Just pop 4 Advil and find a massage therapist (throw in a 5 hour reconstructive surgery too, if you have the time).
This may come as a wee surprise though, but turns out injury (shhh) ain’t that easy. Of course denial comes first, then acceptance (hello- the bone is actually sticking out of your leg), until weeks later as your couch cushion starts to form a black hole in the shape of your flattening butt, when resistance takes over. Us humans always seek identity, and with injury-- even if you mask it behind a joke or smile—getting stuck in “this is terrible” or feeling like a victim usually becomes your new identity. You’re no longer the stockbroker, the yodeler, heck you’re not even Frank or Mary anymore but rather: “the guy who broke his leg.” Life quickly becomes a grasp toward the future: “I’ll be happy once I’m strong, then I’ll be my old self again.”
Your old self though- is that wise? Imagine you’re expecting a hard fastball, which you planned to knock out of the park, but instead are tossed a hanging curve ball. Would you really just stand there, bat on shoulder, complaining “Hey! This isn’t what I wanted!” and wait for the next pitch?
No, you’d take a swing at that ball. Injury is an amazing opportunity, but if you don’t embrace it, you may miss the lessons. You must submit to blackness in order to find a brighter light-- Pain? That’s where great art is always birthed. Being reliant on another person? That’s the exact makeup of romantic love.
And being on crutches, or hooked up to a whirling machine? Wow! Even the 5-year olds know-- the person on crutches is always the most interesting in the room. Everyone wants to know what happened, because privately they’re all going through their own, most recent ‘injury.’
Life is about injury, that’s why the movie American Beauty was so popular. The key is to embrace your own sad movie- the energy there is staggering, especially if you watch it over and over until you feel all the hidden layers. So with this newly broken body, why not crawl on your knees across the floor to pet the dog. Have a stranger carry you down the stairs and appreciate it. Learn how to finally play bridge, and take the time to actually listen to your breathing.
Do this, and when you’re much older-- lying on your hospital bed now, breathing slower every minute—you’ll look out the window at a snowstorm and remember your skiing trips, or how much you loved those goats. Suddenly you’ll recall that broken femur back in ’07. “Wow, I broke my leg!” you’ll think. “The bone was sticking out- it was gross!” That was when you starred in your own sad movie, swung at the curve ball. You’ll hold that injury with reverence, as the time you cried the most, felt the most pain, and couldn’t escape anymore, the reality of being truly, exquisitely human.
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