I am. I was skiing on the weekend. Tentatively. (I'm still learning...)
Sitting on the chairlift, folded in, turned away from whipping wind and slicing sleet, I had headspace. And I started thinking about how I am scared of falling and about how my fear is holding me back.
And then I thought that in many ways, I am the same off the mountain: I am scared of falling and often my fear keeps me from being my most brilliant self.
Intellectually, given a choice between a mediocre existence marked by muted safety and a shining journey punctuated by fear and challenge, I would choose the luminous life. But, when I'm actually in the moment, when I'm pushing off at the top of the run or when I'm contemplating life options, I tread carefully and I slow myself, to avoid tumbling.
I want to be a bit braver, to dare myself to live a little bigger.
And so, on the last run home, in fading light, as my breath clouded the freezing air, I pushed myself. My ski caught an edge. And I fell, brilliantly! Caught by snow - I emerged, dusted in white. Smiling. Knowing I'd been bold, and loving it.
