We All Cry on the Mountain

My husband and I decided that we’d gift our kids (and myself) snowboarding season passes for the winter season.

For some backstory, I was not raised snowboarding. In fact, I only just went snowboarding for the first time about 3-4 years ago. I’m not fantastic at it and took many falls my first go at it, but by the end of the day, I was able to ride down the mountain more often than falling on my butt or my face.

Despite my clear “beginner” nature, I excitedly bought the season passes for myself, my 9, 7, and 6 year old. Sure, I knew it would be a challenge, but my two oldest had already gone once before and they took to it rather quickly. My son was magnificent, even though we spent a good 30 minutes as he cried to me in frustration that he wasn’t getting it right away, but he made it over that hurtle and carried on.

I wisely took my two oldest at the start of the season for opening day. My son, having already done his fair share of crying last time I’d taken him snowboarding, hopped back into his bindings and though he struggled, he didn’t shred a tear.

My eldest daughter, on the other hand, was a different story. She struggled. And cried. And grew frustrated and a little angry. We did a lot of breathing together as I tried my best to help, but also realized that I had a lot of shortcomings not being a professional myself. That said, by the end of the day, she was coasting. I taught her what I knew how to do best: floating. AKA: sliding from one side to the other down the mountain like a falling leaf.

We ended that day feeling like champions.

When I took my youngest, I was confident that we’d do well. She would struggle, but we’d make it through. I was WRONG.

My youngest was crying and angry after her first fall. She’d heard from her big brother and sister that it was easy and that she would catch on quickly. When she didn’t, she threw a fit and refused to ride down the rest of the way. Instead, she unclipped her bindings and said, “I’ll walk down. I don’t care.” And she stomped down that mountain with PURPOSE.

Feeling a little defeated, but unwilling to give up, we went again, but this time, I went with all THREE of my little children. Before we got out of the car, we had a good talk and came up with a motto: We all cry on the mountain.

We recounted our struggles, how it feels to fall down and how frustrating and angry we get when it doesn’t come easy. My son confessed to crying his first time snowboarding, and my eldest daughter shared how she shed a few tears trying too. I explained that it’s not really a big deal if we fall down, but how it’s a very big deal if we fall down and refuse to get back up.

We repeated our new motto: We all cry on the mountain. We knew it was likely to happen. We knew it was coming. But we also knew we’d get through it as long as we didn’t stay down when we fell.

We set out and my two oldest were eager to share what they knew with their little sister. Remember how I said that I was by no means a pro? Well prior to that particular day, I’d never seen a carpet lift. The carpet lift was somewhat of a miracle, if I’m being totally honest. It was as if the Snowboarding Gods had given this adventurous, albeit, struggling mom a gift from the heavens.

We spent the next 2 hours on that carpet lift. My youngest was fed up with me coaching her and at one point, big brother took over. It clicked.

By the end of that day, we were all on the ski lift and gliding down together. It was a dream.

We’ve gone back many times since then throughout this season. My kids are pros when it comes to exiting the ski lift. They know how to press their jackets towards the ticket sensors and then maneuver through the lines. They know what gear they need when we pack up to leave and where to go so that we can meet up on the mountain in case we ever get separated. They’ve attempted jumps that scare me half to death, but don’t seem to phase them at all.

I’ve been reminiscing on how we were at the beginning of the season versus now, as it’s coming to an end and I am SO PROUD of them.

What does this story have to do with writing? Not much, if you think about it. Except for it does. It has a LOT to do with writing. It has a lot to do with anything difficult in life, honestly.

You see, our motto, “We all cry on the mountain” has started to stick with me daily. It may seem a little pessimistic to be prepared to cry at any obstacle or hardship, but I think it has the opposite affect on me. It’s become a reminder that things are nearly always hard at first. We’re going to fall down. We’re going to cry. But it’s what happens after we cry that really matters.

I’ve been guilty of crying and wallowing for a while with my writing. I’ve written a book and I’m really proud of it. I love everything about it. It makes me excited and happy to think about it and the idea of others reading it makes me giddy with anticipation.

But if I’m being honest, it’s really hard to keep up that enthusiasm when I had 23 beta readers sign up to read it and only had 6 seem to finish and actually take the time to fill out my Google Form debrief questionnaire. It makes me want to cry when I think of that… but I’m trying to remember:

WE ALL CRY ON THE MOUNTAIN.

Here’s to not staying there and getting back up.

Allie Marin