Today is a cool and breezy day after the unusual warm spells we’ve had in the new year. I’m happily esconced in my sunny sunroom watching Bones on Prime Video. Murder mysteries is my rabbit hole/escape hatch from everything that needs escaping. Bones is  perfect. It has crime, intrigue, humour, romance and science. It leaves me feeling good afterwards. I do try to keep it in check, allowing myself 2 episodes max at any one time. I do have an addiction disorder. I don’t want to let time roll away on me. After all, there’s real life to be lived.

I do have another addiction that also gives me a sense of well being. Can you guess what? I post photos on social media about it almost every day. It is cross country skiing. I almost feel embarrassed about how much I love it. Why do I love it so much? It is a solitary activity like swimming. I’m not good at either so they challenge me. I have no athletic talent whatsoever. In public school I failed tumbling. I was not on the track or volley ball team. Back in the days, swimming was a mandatory university class. I failed it but not university. I did drop out though – university that is. I was a very matured adult when I took up swimming again and a senior when I took up skiing.

I guess you can say I’m in my second childhood. The second time around is better. I have a little more confidence. I’m not as easily embarrassed or care if I look stupid. I’m not competitive. I race only against myself. Skiing has taught me alot about life. There are slippery slopes everywhere. It is risky, life and skiing. Much as I love it, I’m always a little nervous before I go. I’m never raring and tearing to go at it. I’m the reluctant scarity cat, dragging my tail. Heading out in the car, there’s this video playing in my head about my fears and where I will fall. Once I’m on the track, I feel better and when I start out to meet the rising sun, a contented sigh goes through me. That is,  until I come to a slippery slope. Uphill is a physical struggle. Down hill is a heart dropping free fall. I take a deep breath at the top, focus keeping my knees and ankles soft, give a little push and mutter my prayers. I never get comfortable enough that I don’t go through all the same thoughts and feelings each and every time. It’s a good thing. I will never lose the edge or the love. It’s the way I want to live my life, too. 

There are days when I don’t feel that brave or strong. I have my rabbit holes along the ski trail where I can circumvent my scary spots. I just follow the rabbit tracks. In the words of Mary Oliver,  I do not have to be good. I do not have to walk on my knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. I only have to let the soft animal of my body love what it loves.