December, 2024 - KINETIC MOTIONS

December 27, 2024

Tales from a Snowboarding Novice

Why am I doing this?

I asked myself this question, over and over again this morning, after I strapped the snowboard to my feet. I had some absurd thought that learning a new sport, one in which an individual flies down a giant snow-covered mountain on a single, large board, would be a good idea.

It’s fun, I was told. Or, the learning curve is really steep, but it’s worth it once you get the hang of it. And then there was the, it’s so much cooler than skiing.

Let’s take a step back for a moment, so I can explain how I got here.

I have been a skier since I was four years old. I am comfortable on skis and can very competently go down any kind of terrain. I put my kids on skis when they were two years old, and yet somehow, all three ended up snowboarding (some younger than others). Everyone in my extended family skis or snowboards. It’s just what we do in the winter.

I love to ski, but I’m always looking for a new challenge. So I decided in the off-season, why not try snowboarding this winter?

I ask myself now, after my first full 90-minute snowboarding lesson, why didn’t I pick something easier, like chess, or fencing, maybe bobsledding? Did I have any idea what I was getting myself into?

Thanks to my sister, I was set up with great equipment, from the boots to the board. I had key padding, like wrist-guards built into my gloves, and most important, an industrial-level butt pad. That’s right, I was warned that I would fall hard, often on my behind, and that I needed the right armour to protect delicate parts.

So, I looked great this morning as I walked toward my adult beginner snowboarding class. When the instructors asked me my experience with a snowboard, I proudly said, none! I was a newbie. And my gosh, was I ever a newbie….

Putting on a snowboard, standing on a snowboard and moving on a snowboard is not intuitive. After a few more questions, the instructors figured out I’m a right-foot-forward, also known as “goofy.” That clearly was a perfect description of how I felt as the class begun.

I easily mastered the first challenges put to me. Strap the right foot to the board. Check. Place the left foot on the board just beside the binding. Easy, check. Bend the knees and shift the weight as both feet are on the board. Okay I can do this. Do 360 turns (on a flat surface) with the board. Wow I can do that too!

And now time to move. Try pushing off with the left foot behind and in front of the board. Push push glide. That worked too! Hike up, just a bit, up the hill, to start to feel how to move on the board. Hm…. That’s a bit harder. What, I’m supposed to actually move on this giant board?

What the ears hear, what the brain comprehends and what the rest of the body does don’t necessarily correspond. The very seasoned, wonderful and patient instructors showed me how to gently place my left foot on my board, look forward, bend my knees a bit and glide along a short distance.

First it took me a few minutes to get the confidence to try to move. My legs were like cement. My body seemed quite content to just stay put. One instructor asked me, “what’s your anxiety level right now?” I stood there, embarrassed, as I said, “very high!”

He laughed at me, told me to smile, and to just give it a try. I did. I relaxed a bit, smiled and let myself go. I moved two feet. I did it! I moved!

Somehow my instructors saw my accomplishment to move a couple of feet as a big deal, that I was ready for the next step – a big step: The Magic Carpet!

Surrounded by dozens of 3-5-year-old children on skis and snowboards, all of whom seemed to be flying down the hill with their 14 and 15-year-old expert instructors, there I stood at the precipice of the mountain. What is literally not even a beginner hill, really only a man-made hillock for beginners, I had to face my big fear: strap two feet to a giant board and move!

Lean on the toes. Lean on the heels. Slide. Push. Glide. Hips toward the trees. Turn! Stop! Everything seemed like a jumbled mush to me! I am a very logical person, and every instruction I was given made perfect sense. Keep my weight even and bend my knees. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Don’t panic as I start to move.

I learned today that I have muscles in the inner part of my thighs that I never knew existed. I also learned that when you are a novice, and one foot isn’t yet strapped in, you can very easily get your legs into the splits, while you, on your board, are traveling down the hill.

Pain. Searing pain.

Why am I doing this?

snowboarding — I’m perfectly happy just sitting.

I sat down. On the children’s hill. As yet another 3-year-old flew past me. Could I get past the pain? Could I learn how to glide and stop with my toes then stop with my heels?

As I sat there, looking down the hill, my snowboard strapped to my feet in front of my me, memories of childbirth flashed in my head. I was set up in the perfect position to give birth, and with the pains shooting down my legs, the memories were vaguely familiar. But I digress.

I took a short break, with my patient, and really, so kind instructor, and because of her positive encouragement, and helping hand to haul me up, I gave it another try. Back to the top of the Magic Carpet.

I didn’t always go the right direction, I fell forwards and sideways and on my behind (thank you, butt pad!), but I made it down.

I even hiked further up the beginner hill (called ABC) to learn the preliminary stages of sliding down. That actually went okay. Is it normal that hiking up is easier than sliding down?

By the end of my 90-minute class, I was sweating profusely, slightly out of breath with legs that seemed more like Jell-0. My mother picked me up from my class (just like the 3-year-olds, it’s important that one’s mother drops you off and picks you up!), and I shuffled my way back to my locker to remove my gear.

Here’s a few things I learned on my first day of snowboarding:

It’s a steep learning curve.
Doing the splits on a snowboard is a bad idea.
Padding on key spots of the body is very important.
You need to multi-task: bend the knees, keep the weight even, look straight….
Small children have a clear advantage, being closer to the ground.
I am not so young anymore, and I have pain in previously unknown parts of my body.
Success is very much determined by mind over matter. Don’t psyche myself out.

So, day one on a snowboard is complete. I did it! My level is closer to sub-beginner, I’m tired and in pain, but it was worth it. Will I go back tomorrow for my next lesson: yes!

Keep reading to follow my journey, as I write my Tales of a Snowboarding Novice.

December 9, 2024

Musings on a Dark, Damp and Dreary December Day

It’s a dark, damp, dreary December Monday in Toronto, and it would be so easy for me to write about how hard life is, not just at the start of a Canadian winter, but in general in the challenging world we live in. I have a “blog notes” folder in my phone where I jot ideas down all the time (sometimes in the middle of the night!). When an idea comes to me, I don’t want to forget! As I read some of my recent notes this morning, I knew I had to write, but none of the topics, most full of deep thoughts, inspired me. I’ve been writing about some heavier topics lately, and I realized I really need to lighten up a bit!

My thoughts keep going back to the slightly absurd conversation I had with my 8-year-old daughter last night. I’ve written about Nessa before. She is a ray of sunshine – full of energy and ideas, kind, generous and always amusing.

As I did with my older two children, I have been reading the Harry Potter books with Nessa every night at bedtime. And when I say reading, yes, I am the parent who really gets into it, with voices and accents and sound effects. We are only in the middle book 2, and I think Nessa enjoys this nightly activity.

But, she is only eight, and at times she gets distracted, or confused, or just plain silly. Just as I was reading about the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, with none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, Nessa asked me a question:

“Mommy, if I had a play date with my friend – if my friend came over at 11:00 am and left at 4:00 pm, how long would my play date be?”

Before I could even respond, she continued, “No, don’t tell me. Hang on. Oh, five hours!”

Okay, I said, and as I was about to continue to read, she then said, “What do you think Professor Lockhart looks like? I have an idea in my head.”

This is Nessa. Full of ideas. And random thoughts. And questions. The words and phrases and questions that come out of her head are so amusing that a few members of my family created a texting chat group we call “We Love Nessa.” There is so much content that I could probably have quite the busy feed on X/Twitter!

Last week: “I wish dogs could live a long time (as she hugged our dog). Like us. To 100. I know of a person who lived to 205.” I asked her who, and she responded, “Abraham’s father (as in the Jewish patriarch, who she must have learned about in school). How did he do that?”

And here’s one that makes me both smile and yet also question how smart my child is…. I reminded her a couple months ago that she was going home with her friend that day because there was a half day of school. I said, “Nessa, school ends at noon tomorrow,” and she then responded with, “But they told us school ends at lunch.” And when, I asked her, when is lunch? Her response – 12:00. “Yes, noon,” I said.

Her question: “What’s that?”

In our digital age, it’s almost too easy to jot down a conversation and share it, or to snap a photo of a moment in time, that you can save in your phone. Or sometimes, your child says or does something that you don’t want to savour, and yet, you don’t need to write it down to remember.

Take my 14-year-old, for example, who no longer feels the need to keep a routine bedtime. It was 12:08 AM. Yes, the time is seared into my brain. Unlike much of my family, I like to go to bed early. So at 12:08 AM, I’m typically asleep.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy,” Julia yelled into my dark bedroom.

Of course I popped up, thinking something was wrong. Her voice sounded concerned, or at least it did to me, in my semi-comatose state.

“I can’t find a towel. Where can I get a towel?”

I will not quote exactly how I responded or where I told her she could find a towel. I understand that being a parent is a 24-hour job. From the moment they are born, no matter how deep a sleep you are in, there is a small piece of you that is always awake and ready to help your child. But not with a towel at 12:08 AM. Or to listen to Taylor Swift’s final concert at almost 1:00 AM.

Or, in the case of my 17-year-old son, to hear a play-by-play, at 1:30 AM, of some amazing overtime goal or a really bad trade during baseball’s off season.

Here’s a few more “We Love Nessa” moments that I hope will make you smile:

On a plane this year, overnight flight, across the Atlantic Ocean, “Are we in space now?”

Following a cereal party in French class at school (no idea what they did), and she wanted me to guess her favourite cereal. “It starts with the letter S, and the first word is ‘Cinanum.’” (Think on that one for a while, and no, the answer is not synonym.)

She tasted a (beef) Corn Dog recently. She ate it, thought about it and said, “I don’t think I liked it. It tasted almost vegetarian.”

Sometimes we just need to smile. Re-reading the texts I shared about Nessa definitely puts a grin on my face. I hope reading this makes you smile too. Especially on a dark, damp and dreary December day.

December 2, 2024

Defying Gravity

Something has changed within me

Something is not the same

I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game

Too late for second-guessing

Too late to go back to sleep

It’s time to trust my instincts

Close my eyes….

And….

Leap!

This is the opening verse from one of my favourite musicals, Wicked. I was inspired by the story, the characters, and the music years ago, when I first saw the production, and I have only grown to love it more this year, when I saw the stage production again this spring, and the movie (part 1!) this past weekend.

There are so many themes running through the story, many of which are rather dark and others that are more warm and joyful. One can enjoy the play, or movie, just for the music, dancing and great costumes (which I did!), but one can also use Wicked to think, to reflect, to take action, or as Elphaba sings…. To leap.

The opening verse of the song, Defying Gravity, really affected me when I heard it sung this weekend. I came home and listened to it again, and I even played it on my piano this morning. Even as I typed the words here, they jumped out at me. It was like a higher power was speaking directly to me.

Something has changed within me. I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game.

One thing I know about myself is that I speak my mind. It’s not that I question everything people tell me or what people ask of me, but I am not a “yes-woman.” Just because a person in a position of authority tells me to do something, I don’t just do it. Just because someone in a position of power over me thinks they know better, it doesn’t mean I will follow.

I have been criticized for this, and it’s a game I won’t play.

I don’t always know what is best, and maybe being contrary or questioning an order hasn’t always been the best idea. But I stand by who I am and my choice to sometimes be different. If it means I have to be part of a game, with rules designed by a person or people or organization that don’t match with my beliefs, I don’t want to participate.

For many years I thought I wanted to play the game. I perceived there would be rewards and recognition for participation, and that my unique skills and talents would be appreciated. But instead I learned that it was the game that mattered most.

It’s not because of the movie that I chose to not play the game. But thanks to this song, I can feel confident to share that indeed, something has changed within me – something is not the same – I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game.

I’m through accepting limits ‘cause someone says they’re so. Some things I cannot change but ‘til I try, I’ll never know.

I don’t like the status quo, and when I see boundaries, I push them. When I look back at my career, or my friendships or even my hobbies and passions, I have never accepted the limits that anyone placed on me.

I won’t live up to what someone else believes is what I can – or should – achieve. I can’t change people, but I don’t have to let them tell me what my limits are. I admit, I’ve allowed that at times, and then I remember who I am and I push back.

If there’s no game, if I can be myself, where there are no limits, that’s even better. I need to remember that I won’t play the game, when it’s presented to me, and I will never accept limits just because someone says they’re so.

My life would be much easier if I didn’t care so much

This line was actually spoken by the Wizard, when he first meets Elphaba in the Emerald City. While I really don’t identify with this character or the weasel he turns out to be, I was still very struck by the words.

Throughout my life, when I have received feedback about schoolwork or a job, people have described me as passionate, or that I care a lot. It’s a fair assessment. But would my life be much easier if I didn’t care so much?

As a parent, I care so much about my children, no matter how hard that is. I still feel a tinge of sadness when my 8-year-old scratches her knee, and my heart sinks when my 14-year-old tells me she’s feeling anxious. My life would not be easier if I didn’t care so much about my kids.

I feel the same about my extended family, and my friends. Caring about them makes my life richer. It offers complexity and challenges that I would never want to change.

So, how about my career, or the jobs I have held? Would my work have been easier, would I have been more successful, could I have accomplished more or been more efficient, if I didn’t care so much?

The answer is: yes.

Would I change who I am, that I care about my employees, my colleagues, clients and everyone who relies on me?

Absolutely not.

I care so much that I know it has hurt me. But I have no regrets. For sure, in recent years, I can think of many examples where it would have been so much easier not to care so much. But I stand by my choices and the people to whom I stayed and will stay loyal.

It’s time to trust my instincts close my eyes and leap

This line in the song, Defying Gravity, is the one that resonates the most with me. I won’t play the game. I won’t accept limits established by another person. I will always care. But what will I do about that?

I need to trust my instincts. I must remember that I know what is best for me and how and where I will succeed. I can’t let someone else determine how far I will go or what I am capable of. I need to trust myself and be confident about that.

But that’s not all. I need to leap. I need to act. Knowledge is one thing. Action is another. My first step is here, at Kinetic Motions. Writing is powerful, and for me it’s incredibly empowering. I’m ready to leap.

Am I going to Defy Gravity? Keeping reading and you will find out