It all began when we arrived at the mountain and Kev-lar said, "Why don't you leave your poles? Helmet Jim has quit using his poles and so have a lot of the rest of the gang."
Keep in mind, the few times that I've skied, I used poles and almost every skier who I watched go by had poles except for the little kids who were snowplowing down the mountain. My heart went right to my throat. It seemed impossible to imagine going down such a steep hill without something to aid with balance.
Of course, I remember my poles getting tangled in my skis as I got off the chairlift as a kid. And then I fell and they had to stop everything. I also remember falling and getting all tangled up with my poles knocking into my skis and having to trudge around the slope collecting all my gear before I could continue on.
When Kitty went with it, I joined in as well and left the poles leaning against the lodge.
After a few runs down the little bunny area, I started to get the feel of skiing back into my body. Kev-lar stayed with the Spud and patiently watched her come down the hill and sometimes carried her up the little hill so she would not have to side-step up.
Kitty and I left them behind and crossed a steep intermediate. From then on we were going down a curvy, relaxed hill. Yes, I snowplowed like a kid. But I did not fall. When I came close, I could just drop my hand, push off and reset myself.
It got me to thinking, what are the poles that I carry in my singing career? What are the artificial tools that I use to support me? What are the steps in my learning and studying and performing that I think are completely necessary, but, if I gave them up, would make me a better singer?
What are the poles that I need to leave back in the lodge when I walk out on stage and sing?
Love the analogy! Nice way to bring skiing and singing together!
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