I began learning to ski as an adult in 1973, and have experienced both the joys and the frustrations of this marvellous sport. These highs and lows seem to be a common factor, whether you are a beginner on the gentlest nursery slope or an expert on the steepest off-piste terrain.

The problems that we experience are essentially the same - tension, anxiety, awkwardness, loss of concentration or even the boredom of being stuck on a ‘learning plateau’. These states may manifest externally in different ways, but we experience them internally and can trace their origins either to misperception or misunderstanding the working of our minds, our bodies or the laws of gravity and motion that we are subjected to when we don a pair of skis.

Yet most traditional instruction seems to present the sport in a very complicated, fragmented way, which misses the essence of our innate ability to balance and how we best learn. Too little attention is paid to what we are experiencing internally, and how we can minimise the agony by understanding the learning process in the context of the whole person.

Whenever I ask people what they would like from their skiing, their responses can always be categorized under three headings

• Learning
• Consistent performance
• Fun/enjoyment

You may be fearful or you may wish to improve your style. Perhaps you are confused by jargon and different techniques or have developed inappropriate habits. Whatever you want from skiing the key is self-coaching, taking responsibility for understanding how you learn and discovering that you have an untapped potential. You can overcome the obstacles that inhibit learning, performing and enjoying this wonderful sport.

As you become your own coach the distinction between the words ‘instructor’ and ‘coach’ will become clear. ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, teach him how to fish and you feed him for life.’ You will be able to make the connection between your mind and your body. Learning is our birthright and does not require struggle and effort.

THE AGONY AND ECSTASY EXERCISE

Recall your favourite memory on skis (or another activity if you don’t have one!) - a moment when everything was flowing and fun. Recreate as much of the scenario as you can. Under the heading ‘Ecstasy’ jot down words to describe how you felt.

Now recall an experience when everything was tense and awkward. Under the heading ‘Agony’ jot down words to describe how you felt.

When I do this I come up with words like effortless, balanced and rhythmical for the ecstasy list and frustrated, uncoordinated and, defensive for the agony list.

It seems bizarre doesn’t it that the same person is able to experience such different states. (You may have been in inappropriate terrain for your ability – I’ll be covering comfort, stretch and panic zones in another section.) To hazard a guess it is likely that in the ecstatic moments your mind was quiet and serene and in the agonizing moments you experienced a lot of mental chatter, self-instruction or self-criticism.

This is the key to understanding how to learn. The mind thinks that it is doing the skiing and that it, or an instructor, can tell the body how to do it. There’s a problem here, the body doesn’t speak English, or any language for that matter, but that’s not to imply that it is dumb.

The body is a miraculous organism that is programmed to raise the alarm when it lacks water, air or food. It converts food to a usable energy source, stores it, controls expenditure and processes waste.
Our complexity has yet to be fully understood but every cell operates on the same principle as a thermosat or missile – reaching its goal by receiving feedback about where it is right now. These laws of nature apply at every level of human experience. Awareness of what is happening produces change.

If our goal is for our body to express its potential fully on skis, we must learn to quieten the interfering mental chatter, allow our senses to receive information and our brain to process this ‘feedback’ – the multi-dimensional language that the body understands - to bring about effortlessly our desired changes in performance. The more you think the less you feel. We can also use our mental abilities to visualise or create images to ‘feed forward’ qualities to enhance our experience.

There is no right or wrong when we become aware. Right and wrong imply making a judgement. Labelling actions as ‘bad’ or ‘good’ limits our awareness and denies our body the valuable
information that it needs to change. Every experience either tells us that what we did was effective and worked or that it was ineffective and didn’t. By becoming more detached and simply observant we can develop non-judgmental awareness, delve deeper into our experience, and free up our potential to learn –
effortlessly.

Tim Gallwey, author of The Inner Game of Tennis, points out that there are two games that we play in life. The outer game might be playing the piano, driving the car or a sport like skiing. Whether we succeed in the outer game depends on how we play the inner game.

Copyright Sarah Ferguson 2002