Ski? Not Me! Giving the Cold Shoulder to the ‘Shoulds’

I don’t ski. I abhor the cold. I don’t like putting on all that uncomfortable gear and have no need for speed. I simply don’t find skiing to be fun.

My family likes to ski. My youngest LOVES it and skis double black diamond trails with ease.

So I agree to accompany my family on ski trips. I’m perfectly happy hanging out in the lodge or in the room reading books I’d otherwise never make the time to read. I go for a massage. I work out in the gym. I go to dinner with my family and enjoy listening to stories of their snowy escapades.

However, on our most recent trip, on our last morning at the mountain, an over-eager ski instructor spied me drinking my coffee and reading my book. He sat down next to me, uninvited, and proceeded to tell me there was something wrong with my having chosen not to ski.

That triggered something unexpected in me. I had consciously decided not to ski. I was eager to read my book. But I suddenly found myself becoming emotional and proceeded to work hard at humoring this man who seemed to believe he knew what would be best for me and my family while not actually knowing the first thing about either.

I took a moment to consider: What was going on? What had this encounter triggered in me?

I knew this guy was simply looking to drum up business. He handed me his card and delivered his well-rehearsed pitch, containing a personal story involving an ex-girlfriend and how she overcame her fear of skiing with his incredible patience and guidance. He finally left after several minutes and my telling him I lived five hours away and wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

I checked in with myself. This was the fourth day of our trip, and I was ready to head home and face a busy week ahead. I also wished I DID enjoy skiing. I had tried several times, only to find it frustrating and not enjoyable. The discomfort of the gear and the cold seemed to outweigh any pleasure I discovered in it. I had taken private lessons and didn’t love those, either. I’d given skiing a fair shot, and we simply weren’t made for each other.

I acknowledged there was a degree of sadness in letting go of this possibility and coming to terms with it just not being for me. The ski instructor shined a spotlight on that struggle and cast his own judgment on my decision. One could argue he was just attempting to share his love of the sport, and his services in developing that love within me, but I didn’t have to take on what he believed to be “right.” I needed to let that go and stay true to what I knew was right for me, even if that meant recognizing it wasn’t necessarily ideal.

What’s wrong with sometimes sitting on the sidelines? In my heart, nothing. In my head, I occasionally hear the “shoulds.”

What’s wrong with sometimes sitting on the sidelines? In my heart, nothing. In my head, I occasionally hear the “shoulds.”

Perhaps I should try even harder to like something I don’t.

I should want to spend the day with my family and the only way to effectively do so is on the slopes.

I should do things I really don’t enjoy for the sake of pleasing others.

If others enjoy it, I should too.

No.

I need to do the things that are satisfying to me and that bring me peace, joy, and fulfillment. Only in choosing to spend my time in this way will I be someone who is pleasant to be around. (I learned on the occasions I did ski that my frustration diminished the fun for others.) I don’t need to apologize for things I don’t enjoy or force myself to do them, as long as they are not required.

I choose with enthusiasm the things in which I DO participate. I avail myself of opportunities to explore and take part in things that might be beyond my comfort zone, and I seek out experiences that will enable me to stretch.

When I feel that momentary twinge upon having been told I’m making the “wrong” choice, as I did in that ski lodge, I do my best to let go of the judgment being thrust upon me, check in with my decision and the impact it has on me, and proceed in accordance with that, rather than what others have to say about it. That moment in the lodge was a chance for me to recommit to that process, to dismantle the “shoulds” that happened to sneak in.

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