Trusting the Turn: What Yoga Taught Me About Skiing - By Fred baurer

A Practice Evolves

I have been practicing Mysore yoga for most of the last 13 years, but it’s taken on whole new dimensions working with Meghan Marshall since the summer of 2021. Though I experience plateaus and bodily setbacks, and gains are often incremental, my trajectory is positive. Challenging myself within a safe space propels me forward, and the experience of breaking new ground is thrilling!

The Annual Test: Ski Week

Every winter I go on a weeklong ski vacation. In the past two years I have been aware of how my yoga progress expresses itself in my skiing. Since it has been a year between ski trips, the changes in my mind/body/spirit come into perspective, as this year feels so different from last.

Fear vs. Anxiety

I have experienced injury in both yoga and skiing, and my body is more vulnerable at age 67. Fear signifies clear and present danger. If I lose control on the slopes, or force a yoga posture I am not ready for, I risk injury. At the same time, fear’s sister emotion of anxiety — rooted in the past, not the present — can kick in. I know I can handle this slope or this posture, but can I let myself fall into it?

When I feel the sensations of fear or anxiety kick in, my breath becomes shallow, my heart pounds, my body tightens up, my mind experiences trepidation. I overthink and try to control my movements. These are signals to pause and analyze. Is this fear, telling me I am not ready for this posture or this slope, or that today is not the day for it? If so, I should listen and back off. Or is this anxiety instead — a signal from my past and not the present — something I can work through? Sometimes it’s hard to know on my own, which is where a trusted teacher comes in.

Learning to Trust

As a child, I did not experience a trusting environment in which I might have internalized a strong inner compass. I became a self-learner, for better and for worse. I did not easily differentiate anxiety from fear, leading to missed opportunities to work through anxiety—or plowing through fear, not heeding its message of real and present danger, and causing harm.

Anxiety is a signal of being lost within oneself, not knowing which way to go. In my adult life, I have been blessed to find spiritual guides whom I could trust and whose lessons I have internalized. Anxiety — inevitably rooted in the past — is a strong signal, but one that can be recognized and worked through. My experience in the studio has taught me that I can trust Meghan and Sarah to guide me in my yoga practice. The studio is a safe space, and challenging myself within this safety allows me to expand my comfort zone, recognize anxiety, and work it through.

The Slopes as a Mirror

Facing a challenging but manageable ski slope, perhaps with big moguls and a steep incline, I immediately feel the trepidation. If I tighten up, I slowly traverse the mountain, resisting opportunities to turn downhill — is it fear or anxiety? I am looking at the snow right in front of me, trying to plan every move, and for fear of going too fast, I am going too slowly to allow my body to ski as it knows how to.

With progress in self-awareness, I allow myself to look further down the hill and trust my body to make the turns and keep my speed under control. I maintain awareness of my velocity and my breath. I am more relaxed, having fun, breathing, and feeling in control. My body, mind, and breath are stronger and more open than last year. When I break through an old anxiety — in the studio or on the slopes — I feel the release of an old blockage. It is exhilarating!

Letting Go

On my recent ski trip, I saw the next level of this awareness take shape. I went beyond simply trusting my body to make the turns—I allowed the mountain to be my guide. This only happened a few times, but it was a glimpse of fully letting go: feeling the snow, my balance on my feet, the edges of my skis encountering the snow, my breath full, velocity where it needed to be, feeling at one with the mountain telling me where to go.

I’ve experienced this same surrender in the yoga studio. I let go in kapotasana, allow the posture (and Meghan) to guide me through, continue to breathe fully, and actually relax and enjoy the posture. In both places— skiing and yoga — when control yields to listening, something profound happens. In these moments, skiing becomes yoga.

Fred Baurer is an addiction psychiatrist and psychoanalyst in Philadelphia, practicing yoga at Mysore Philadelphia.