Fear

This past weekend I went skiing for the third and final time this winter. The weather was great, the snow was great, I made progress. It was great, all of it. I like the thought of picking up a new hobby - and one that takes a bit of work to pick up - at the "late" age of 30. I hope I keep collecting new interests for the rest of my life.

I went up to the mountain with people who are much better skiers than I am, and this ended up forcing me to try things I hadn't thought I would dare to. I went down new trails and had moments of real terror. I would ski off to the side of the run to collect my bearings, then look down and realize how steep the path in front of me was. It's one thing to ski down a steep hill, and another entirely to look down it and anticipate. You've got time to think, to picture yourself losing control or getting hurt. It's better not to stop, really.

In the end though, I came to appreciate the fear. The fear told me that I was trying something more challenging. The fear went away after a couple runs and told me that I had learned something new. I learned to take measure of my fear and use it as a guide. Too much of it was a clear indication that I wasn't ready for Difficulty Level X. A healthy amount flipped a switch somewhere and told me to go and attack.

And while I was mastering my fear, I couldn't help but draw a parallel to my everyday life. Do I scare myself enough? How important is it to scare yourself? What is the ideal ratio of comfort to risk? Or more accurately, what is my idea ratio of comfort to risk? What's the focus? Is it success? Is it kindness, love, and calm? Are the two mutually exclusive?

Oh yeah, and how soon until Winter 2011?