I consume quite a bit of ski media.\u00a0 Coffee table books, magazines, videos, Instagram posts, even Tik Toks all beam the eudaemonic effects of powder snow into my brain at probably an unhealthy rate.\u00a0 As I currently pick gingerly through variable conditions here at home, I unsuccessfully quash jealousy at those riders across the globe blessed with epic storms and excellent stability.\u00a0 Ever an optimist, one who still revels in the subtle pleasures of a scratchy groomer, even I am feeling the pangs of the low tide blues.<\/p>\n
The despair over the dearth of snow is of scant import in the grand scheme, a luxury to even contemplate.\u00a0 Yet, by coinciding with a less than auspicious beginning to the year, the lack of flakes seems an ominous portent.\u00a0 The tendency toward despair, clinical or otherwise, should not be underestimated.\u00a0 Especially since many of us rely overheavy on the release of powder days for our mental health.<\/p>\n
Just as my spirits were starting to wane, I lucked into a sleeper pow day, scoring untouched lines as the surface hoar sparkled in the early morning sunshine in an orchidaceous display of skiing\u2019s promise.\u00a0 The morning should have been a catalyst, a reminder of my good fortune, a refreshing of the imperative to not take life for granted.\u00a0 Those thoughts were present, acknowledged, but I still could not shake the melancholy that surrounded my heart.<\/p>\n
It was disconcerting to not feel completely flooded with joy as I cruised through the fluff.\u00a0 It is hard to remember a time when all worries were not subverted by the magic of soft turns.\u00a0 Part of it was the acute hurt of a recent conflict, part of it was the loss of mountain brethren, but I also realized the immense shadow cast by the events of this challenging era.\u00a0 The psychic cloud of constant toxicity and worry had settled in, stubbornly refusing to blow out.<\/p>\n
The weight of this middle-distance period of the pandemic is becoming harder to bear.\u00a0 Positive prognostications exist, give us hope, but still require months and perhaps more of energetic patience, reserves of which are in short supply.\u00a0 Into February without meaningful snowfall, the cycle of hoping and being disappointed is stretching the elastic pretty thin.\u00a0 Doubt is an increasingly familiar companion, a questioning of methods and outlook and sanity.<\/p>\n
To recognize, to live with, to parse through, to embrace the doldrums is a precarious endeavor.\u00a0 It is difficult to look over the edge without falling into the abyss; the great balancing act of life.\u00a0 The lethargy, the sadness, the pressure may feel abnormal.\u00a0 You may believe that you are the only one struggling, the only one muddling through.\u00a0 But, you are not alone.\u00a0 You are not even close to alone.<\/p>\n
Snow is in the forecast.\u00a0 It would be easy to be cynical, to assume that we will get donut-holed for eternity.\u00a0 But, that is neither productive nor logical. \u00a0A new administration is in power.\u00a0 Many have already fallen prey to skepticism, either due to ideology or prior disappointments or a mixture thereof.\u00a0 I see that as a self-fulfilling prophecy; without the goodwill of the people, the government will always default to entropy.\u00a0 A new energy must infuse the system, even if contrary to the laws of thermodynamics.<\/p>\n
It will snow, the pandemic will end, we will get better, we will learn.\u00a0 We will be in a drought, a new peril will descend, we will make horrid decisions, we will forget.\u00a0 Depressing and hopeful and cyclical and natural.\u00a0 As you stare out the window at the bleak coverage, do not fret.\u00a0 The tide is coming in; it always does.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"