Threatening Myself

I roamed the planet near and far as few before me have had the privileged opportunity to do. Together, Jenny and I floated amongst the supposed dangers of the earth, embracing risk, only to invariably emerge unscathed (barring a few travelers gastro-tracts and a highly controversial possibility of a broken foot in Ethiopia). It was not until our return to the land of supposed comfort and security that the highly anticipated catastrophic (as seen through the eyes of a few) or merely mundane (as seen through the eyes of others) yet life-changing (in the short run for sure, and long run only questionably) event would befall us (me).

The singularly unexpected succession of events that continued the lives of constant unknown solidified what everyone already knew, of course - thoughout this journey, the single biggest threat to our own health and well-being was, well, ourselves. There was no one around me that day in the trees as I skied through a foot of new powder. Andy was well off in the distance by the time I inadvertently launched myself off of the unassuming mini-cliff in the woods of the Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. And there were no familiar faces, only strangers, to call to as I lay beneath the vengeance of the stoicly unmoving boulder laughing in its stationary silence at the encounter that had left it unscathed, and had left my kneecap in something more than a dozen pieces.

I did reap the benefits once more of hospitality of strangers (albeit strangers salaried to reinforce my safety) to slide into the ski patrol sled and wave an unemotional, nonchalant adeu to the moderately brutal end of my ski season and, temporarily, to my return to the alpine mountains.

Now, a few weeks later, I sit in my room looking just as it did in High School and wonder at how all the ambitions to keep travelers eyes through forced movement within my own city have taken a slight hiatus as instead I spend quite a number of hours staring into the pages of books or the niches in the ceiling (though I have emerged from the cavernous existence to wander to cafes and an occasional bar in the mix - my freedom is not obliterated. Now Hiroshima so much as Baghdad - swirling in the midst of an enforced chaos, waiting to emerge to the light of oppression-less days.

Of course, I don't look at this accident as unfortunate. I simply see it as being what it is. The next necessary step in a journey towards whatever comes next. I'll hobble my way toward that end; and Jenny will find a new ski partner; and Matt will find a new ski partner; and Andy will have to assault the Tetons without me just as I (sort of) did without him when he went and screwed himself up. In the meantime, I'll be on the couch doing curls with soup cans.