Make Room For Edge Of The World

We had reached the top. It was as far up as we could go. We were just shy of 12,000 feet in elevation. And there was only one way down.

So we leaned into the mountain and started carving some nice S-curves into the side of the appropriately named black diamond run, The Edge.

It is intense, but we have amazing visibility and we all join up at the base of the run to receive some pointers from the Ski Pro we were with that day. All in all, it was full speed but tolerable.

We cut across a few junctions and hop on a blue run called Coffee Pot and I think we are home free. A nice blue diamond cruiser to finish the top-to-bottom run. But then, as we were making good time and having a blast as a group, we came to what I would later learn is called an End of the World Edge.

As you approach, you start to realize you can't see what is one foot over that edge until your momentum is already carrying you over the edge to whatever is actually waiting for you there.

I'd seen one the day before and I fell hard.

I'd seen my group go over that edge. I'd seen their heads disappear below the edge as I approached, but I froze and stopped a few yards before the drop.

I wanted to know what was on the other side.

I wanted to know what I was skiing into.

I wanted to understand how I would... boom - plop.

Down I went.

As I tried to fully understand what lay on the other side of the edge, I lost control of my skis and poles and fell over right where I stood.

My caution was more dangerous.

Skis aren't meant for side-stepping your way up to an edge. Polls aren't there to balance you as you lean over from a full stop.

And so I learned.

And this time, as I was cruising down Coffee Pot, I planned my turns so that I was coming across the mountain right at the edge, I could see what was on the other side of the End of the World and then turn into it and have my speed and momentum carry me into the fall line of whatever awaited me on the other side.

I gained confidence because I knew I would be okay no matter what was there.

I'd seen others go over that End of the World Edge. But the unknown caught me off guard that first time. My desire for perfection got in the way of my ability to be curious about how all of my training and preparation could prepare me for anything that was just beyond my line of sight.

I learned I always was in control. I always had the ability to reduce my speed and be more intentional with how I came over each edge. But, as I found, being too cautious around the edges was actually more painful than learning how to use my tools and momentum to have fun with them.

I think the same is true in life.

We encounter countless edges of our known world on our way to where we are going. But how can we learn to drop-in to them with learnings from our past and the momentum of our current work to find an exciting surprise revealing itself to us one moment of trust after the next?

I, for one, now love finding the my world's edge and diving down that mystery into the soon-to-be-known.