A narrative is a story or account of connected events. The narrative of every ski season varies significantly year to year, but each season’s narrative always includes a beginning. Let’s call today the preface to a new narrative.

My own narrative became contaminated. I developed a false self narrative and I followed the script off a cliff. The story began to frame me instead of me framing the story. The narrative no longer felt like my own. But in an insidious way, it still felt like I was writing the story. A default program stuck in an infinite loop; the story would not progress, the next page could not be turned.

I cannot control the narrative of the ski season. But I can (exert the illusion of) control (over) my own narrative. I can choose how to present the narrative arc of the protagonist. I can stop the record from skipping incessantly. I can lift the record off the turntable and break it apart like the problematic unconscious self narrative that was endlessly repeating in my head. I choose to recast my tale.

Reach out for help.

And then reach for the next sheet of paper, reach for a pen, and start writing again.

Reach for a summit that once inspired you and then open yourself up to be inspired again.