a reminder from the ski trail

What is one of your favorite activities?  

Cross country skiing may be my favorite activity - and certainly my favorite exercise.  Most of this winter, the conditions and my schedule have not aligned.  Fortunately, in the last week, I've made the most of it...skiing 3 times in 4 days to beat the warming trend.  

It's amazing how many life lessons and reminders surfaced in the process.  

Since I know most people are feeling exhausted, drained, and overwhelmed, I'll just offer one today.

#1:  Etiquette is socially constructed and learned through experience.  Sometimes people truly don't "do better" because they don't "know better" (yet!)  Remembering this creates an anchor to humility and hope.

As I was skiing the first day, I crossed paths with a person walking their two dogs on the same trail.  Although the dogs were off leash, she was managing them and they were not aggressive.  I felt at ease, happy seeing others enjoying the woods, and commented on the beautiful day as we passed.

Immediately after passing, however, I let out a small groan. 

The tracks I'd been following which had been smooth and even were now pocketed with the dips and valleys of boots and dog prints. They had been trampled.

I won't lie.  My mood soured and I felt an instant frustration.  Not only was I irritated with their choice to walk on the ski tracks rather than in the ample space alongside, I was replaying in my head what I could have said (had I realized it in time.)

These imaginary conversations had the benefit of reminding me that the other person was extremely unlikely to have been intentionally ruining the ski tracks.  

Much more likely was that she simply didn't realize it made any difference at all.  Or, that she was too overwhelmed to notice. Or, that she was looking for a place to walk that was less deep. Or…

How often has that been true for you?  

Either you're the one who hasn't yet realized, learned, or understood the impact of something you're doing, OR, you're feeling the frustration and irritation that someone else hasn't understood the impact of what they’re doing (and likely, you've experienced plenty of both!)  🤷‍♀️

Having grown up skiing, I know that skiing is much more pleasant when the tracks are smooth and even, and that it's good etiquette not to walk, snowshoe, bike on, or otherwise disturb them when they're possible to avoid.  

However, I only know that from my experience growing up in an area and community familiar with cross country skiing.  Otherwise, I realized, I would have no idea, and be just as likely as anyone else to trample the tracks. (I can hear the inner conversation now:  Ooh, this looks like a good spot to walk!) 😂

Even now, there are plenty of "trail etiquette" situations in which I am ignorant.  Having not taken up mountain biking, for example, I'd be unsure which person has the right of way (uphill?  downhill?  hikers? If you know, will you educate me?)

So much of what I've learned through the years has been through the gracious patience, sharing, instruction, and openness of others who have had different backgrounds and experiences, and have given me the benefit of doubt that I would be open to and able to learn to do better.

Remembering this not only helps me in those moments where my nervous system instantly reacts, it grounds me back into the foundation of my work: humility.  

With different experiences, family, teachers, or environment, I could just as easily be in any other person's shoes.  

Certainly, this is extremely relevant for the struggles and frustrations of social justice advocacy.  

It's easy to become impatient with the slow rate of change and the amount of hate, insensitivity, bias, and conflict showing up in everyday interactions.

"How come they don't know better?  Shouldn't they be aware of this by now?  How can they think that's okay?"

Perhaps, at least in some cases, it's also true that if someone has the opportunity to "know better," they will actually want (and choose) to "do better."  I sure hope so!  

I still have a lot to learn, and I'm grateful for every person who has helped me to grow while providing emotional safety to take in these opportunities.

I hope you, too, have these moments and experiences that allow you to continue forward with hope, even in the moments of intense frustration, discouragement, and irritation.

You matter.  You can make a difference.  And, I'm so thankful you're here.