It’s finally snowing in Illinois and I have this moment stuck in my head.
I was fifteen and on a spring break snowboarding vacation with my parents. My boyfriend had just broken up with me before we left and as any teenage girl would be, I was a mess. I felt like the world came crashing down (even thought we’d only been dating three months.) I wasn’t sure how to handle my emotions and often felt awkward.
My mother stayed back in the condo reading while my dad and I ventured out to our favorite ski area known for it’s remoteness (and having a good chunk of runs above tree line.) My dad had left me to myself (probably to go ski some black diamonds) and I had ventured up to the top.
The day wasn’t sunny or even warm but instead the sky was a dull gray with intermittent snow showers. I got off the lift and sat down to buckle my dangling foot into the board but I just stopped. The view was amazing, the air was crisp and fresh, I took a deep breath and suddenly I felt calm.
Gone were my fears, insecurities, and anger. I just felt “there.” For an awkward teenager fumbling through emotions, this feeling was a game changer.
I can’t remember what happened after that (I’m sure I face planted a few times) but what was left was this ability to find the calm.
This is why I love snow. When it first snows I walk outside, take a deep breath, and I’m instantly transported to this memory, on the mountain, with the snow.
Where I first learned (or remembered I learned) that everything is going to be alright.
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