A winter off from being a Ski Instructor

 What I was told today probably would have shattered me if I didn't honestly just not care. The truth of the matter is, my heart was just not in my skiing today. It may be difficult to describe, but much like horseback riding heart has a lot to do with skiing. I'm finding it difficult to motivate myself to get up the mountain and do run after run like I do effortlessly in Park City. Perhaps my five weeks at home has made me soft; I've gotten so used to the comforts of home, and maybe it's not so much that I could use a summer, but could use a change of pace from a life where I am struggling for money and where I feel that at times I am sacrificing dignity because of my position. I'm stuck in a purgatory between my wanderlust youth and desire to travel and test my limits of survival and making something out of nothing, and also having higher standards for myself and for my life. I am in this void between letting myself eek out an existence and enjoy every day as it comes, and wanting to be proficient at something and give a direction and future to what I am doing. I would not be happy living this life forever any more than I would have been happy staying on the academic track I had started and had to abort.

Sometimes it's hard not to feel that everything happens for a reason. I almost feel that no matter what I do I'm being directed or fitted into something that I am meant for. Today I tried out for the casual employment positions at Coronet Peak. I had to hide the fact that I wasn't terribly keen on a full time position. I weighed all the bad things about teaching at Coronet: having to get up the mountain every day, not knowing when I would work, the mountain being crowded and unsafe, and burning out from teaching large groups of different kids every day as I did in Australia. As I said, my heart just wasn't in it. Apparently, however, my upper body was in it, because after the ski evaluation in the morning I was eliminated from the process because my turns were once again starting with my upper body instead of with my feet. The only thing that really haunts me about the situation is the feeling that I've brought disgrace to my home mountain and my friends and my own personal status. I was told that my skiing didn't match my certification. Perhaps it doesn't; I have no doubt about Michel's evaluation of my performance today, and as I said, I think it's due to my lack of heart. I could say maybe it was because of my large pack on my back throwing off my sense of upper body, or the fact that my new skis are 8cm longer than what I'm used to, or that I've only had a few runs since April, but those would be excuses. The strength of my skiing truly comes from my desire to do it, and the thrill it gives me and the feeling I get when I teach someone something that enables them to feel that thrill. I felt like today was just another interview for just another job; I feel like it is almost expected of me to teach, or at least try to teach here in New Zealand, and the truth is that my job as a ski instructor and my love of skiing did bring me here. It's difficult to reconcile in my mind the fact that I will be here in New Zealand for a winter and won't be teaching. (Though perhaps I will by the end of the season.)

What I do here, however, will be extraordinary. It has to be. Working on the mountain would be routine, and even working in a restaurant might be just more of the same, but whatever I end up doing to ensure I can stay until October will be interesting. It's only been 8 days since I've been in the country, and months from now I will look back at the stress and anxiety I am feeling and see it as just a bump in the road of my experiences here. The truth of the matter is that these are the best days of my days in Queenstown; I am able to go skiing every day with no additional cost, meet really cool people and stay and eat for cheap in the hostel, and not have any obligations or commitments to anyone or any job yet. Relax, just relax.