When the rest of me followed--upside down in a complete forward somersault, I landed flat on my back.
I neglected to see a thin rope closing off a ski trail.
It tripped me.
Steve was about to start laughing at me except after the rope hit me at my shins, it released from my legs and then hit Steve squarely on the chest to "clothesline" him.
He ended up perfectly horizontal to the ground before he too fell flat on his back.
It was a spectacular performance.
It highlighted the end of our ski trip last weekend.
We are an unorganized family.
I am not the best planner.
I said 'yes' to a high school reunion in NYC and said 'maybe' to dinner to celebrate my eldest brother's 60th in Rochester, until I realized that both events coincided with a weekend that was scheduled a year in advance (not by me but CK).
For a trip that involves being cold and hurling down a snow filled mountain on wooden slats while carrying sharp metal skewers, I won't lie--I was not excited about it.
But I did not tell the girls this as I did not want to dampen their enthusiasm for our trip.
Skiing is one of those things we file under the heading of: For our kids' sake.
However, once I was there and layered thick, I enjoyed it once I started embracing the activity.
Embracing the moment is the key to life.
Why do I keep forgetting that that is the key?
Also making things fun (and challenging) is part of the key.
The ski resort was celebrating it's 50th anniversary, and so every 50th chair lift was painted gold.
Ever the King of Woohoo, our friend CB said that the person who gets the most rides on a gold chair each day, gets a pack of Oreos as a prize. (after you...no after you...please...I insist....)
Personally, I found that challenging myself (and the others) with a certain number of runs up and down various trails helped me enjoy myself.
I think the 'head over heels' display was about my 50th run in two days.
I rewarded myself with Oreos after that.
One evening all of us but Steve went out for dinner.
(a friend who lives in the area was visiting him)
The adults sat on one end of the table talking about various topics I could not contribute to. (politics, school boards, districts, etc.)
At one point my friend-in-law, turned to me and said: "jump in."
I said, "I can't. I know nothing about what you are talking about."
Yet, I still enjoyed myself.
Sometimes, it is really nice to just listen.
After dinner we huddled around a camp fire, roasting marshmallows and making S'mores.
There was a communal S'more being passed around that I declined taking a bite out of.
I was not ashamed to admit my germaphobia.
There is something really freeing about living life as honestly and authentically as can be.
That's another key.
