After repeated urging from my entire family, I decided to learn how to ski at over 40 years old. I couldn’t sleep the night before due to stress, and I had nightmares of tumbling down the mountain like a pile of broken bones. But I didn’t back down. I’m obsessed (among other things) with the idea that if I start something, I have to finish it, no matter how much pain (or fear) it involves.

But I left with something much more valuable than just good skiing technique—some important lessons about myself and life: 

1. I Can’t Control Everything.

The snow could be soft or icy, the weather unpredictable, and the slopes full of surprises. I couldn’t control any of these things, not even my own body on skis at times.

I realised that my obsession with control wasn’t protecting me—it was preventing me from progressing. I was forced to work with what I had and, in unexpected situations, let my instincts guide me.

I learned quickly to adapt, and life is the same way. 

2. Before Conquering the Mountain, I Need to Learn How to Stop.

On the slopes, I quickly realised that no matter how appealing it was to snake through the snow waves, if I didn’t know how to stop, I became a danger to myself and everyone around me.

It’s the same in life: before accelerating, before diving into a major project or making an important decision, I need to understand when and how to apply the brakes.

It’s not speed that leads to progress, but the ability to maintain balance and take breaks when necessary. 

3. To Move Forward, I Need to Lean into What Scares Me.

When the instructor took me to the top of the hill and told me to keep my skis parallel and lean forward, my mind screamed, “You’re going to crash!” I immediately told him I didn’t think that was a good idea.

The truth was, fear was paralysing me. Only by rising above it, trusting the process, and trusting those who had mastered the sport, could I progress.

I had a choice between what I thought kept me safe and making no progress or accepting that what I knew wasn’t enough and allowing an expert to teach me.

This is true in life too: progress comes when you take risks, and step outside your comfort zone, and when you realise you don’t know everything. There are things you can learn from people around you who are more experienced than you.

4. Perfectionism Can Prevent Me from Enjoying Progress.

At first, I was obsessed with making every move perfect: how to hold my skis, how to keep my balance, how to make the right turn. I tried so hard to follow every technical detail that I became overwhelmed, stressed, and didn’t enjoy the moment: the fact that I could ski down an Alpine slope for the first time in my life, standing upright!

Then, the instructor told me, “Let yourself feel. Don’t let the rules block you.”

That’s when I realised that life—just like skiing—isn’t about rigidly chasing perfection. It’s about trusting yourself and finding joy in the process.

Progress, almost never, comes from controlling every step. It comes from letting go of the obsession with details and connecting with the natural rhythm of things. 

5. Walking Backwards Changes My Perspective and Teaches Me to See Things from a Different Angle.

When the instructor asked me to ski backward, panic was my first response. I thought I was going to die! There was already so much to manage when facing forward, but now I had to make every move in reverse. Everything I had learned about posture, balance, and movement seemed flipped upside down.

But gradually, I realised that this change of perspective was the lesson. 

Skiing backward forced me to reevaluate my basic understanding: to think differently, adapt, and use my instincts in new ways. It showed me that, sometimes, to progress, it’s not enough to apply what you know mechanically. You need to be open to seeing situations from another angle and to reconfigure the entire process.

In life, this is essential. When everything seems upside down, when the rules change, and you have to operate “in reverse,” you learn flexibility—both mentally and emotionally. You learn that adaptability is key. You also realise that looking backward doesn’t just mean seeing the road you’ve traveled; it means understanding it differently, reinterpreting it, and integrating the lessons in new ways.

This experience taught me that life is not a straight line. Sometimes, you have to look over your shoulder, take steps backward, and rethink what you already know in order to move forward with more clarity and strength. 

6. When Life Insists on Teaching Me Something, I Need to Listen—I’ll Need It Later.

On the slopes, there were times I felt like the instructor was making me practice things that didn’t seem relevant. “Why should I learn to ski backward when all I want is to ski forward?” I wondered.

But when a few days later, I reached a steep slope, lost control, and started sliding backward, I realised that exactly that seemingly unnecessary lesson had saved me.

Life has a special way of presenting lessons I don’t expect, which, at the moment, seem annoying, difficult, or unnecessary. Sometimes, I’ve refused to learn them because I was too focused on what I wanted immediately.

But the truth is simple: life knows. It knows I’ll need that skill, that lesson, that moment of introspection. It knows that sooner or later, I’ll face a situation where what it gave me now will be the key to opening the door ahead.

Next time life pushes me out of my comfort zone, I won’t resist as strongly (hopefully). I’ll learn. Because now I know it’s just preparation for a steeper slope or a tougher path, one that I’ll navigate more easily because I was willing to listen. Every small-seeming lesson has a bigger role than I can imagine at the moment.

7. Falls Are Part of the Process.

The first lesson in skiing: you will fall. 

The second lesson: it’s okay to fall. 

I’ve never learned better how to adjust my position or avoid mistakes than when I landed in the snow.

Falls are lessons, not failures.

8. Don’t Compare Yourself to Others.

On the slopes, there were 5-year-olds skiing down the mountain like they were born with skis on their feet. 

My own young kids skied down the mountain from 3,600 meters!

I struggled to make a decent “snowplow.”

But I understood that my progress is about me, not others. In life, everyone has their own pace.

9. The Hardest Step Is the First.

I stood for minutes before taking that first step, my heart racing. But once I took it, everything became easier. I was one step closer to my goal.

Sometimes, all I need is a little push and to let the process (gravity) carry me forward.

Skiing taught me to let go of control and trust—in myself, in the process, and sometimes, even in the unknown.

So, I learned that true freedom comes when I accept that I don’t need to control anything. 

Sometimes, it’s enough to lean forward and see where life takes me.

10. When Fear Paralyses you, Reset Yourself.

There were moments when I felt everything was slipping out of control, when my skis weren’t responding the way I wanted, and the slope became a whirlwind of panic. In an instant, I lost control, sliding rapidly down the slope. I felt the ground slip away from under me, and panic took over.

But then, the instructor told me something that seemed completely crazy: “Jump in the air.”

At first, I thought it was impossible. “How can I jump when everything’s falling apart? How can I lift my feet off the ground and jump??”

But surprisingly, when I finally gathered the courage to jump, I felt my body shift, gravity doing its job, and almost magically, I landed on my feet, skis parallel.

It was like an instant reset—everything calmed down, I regained control, and safely stopped.

This lesson showed me that when life gets chaotic and I don’t know which direction to take, I shouldn’t let fear control me and should take a brave step into the unknown. A leap of faith. Even when I feel like I’m losing control, in that moment, I have the chance to rediscover myself, learn something new, and continue stronger.

In life, I don’t always have control over circumstances, but I do have control over how I react. So, the next time I feel like everything’s slipping away, I’ll remember that sometimes, in order to stop and reset, I only need a leap of faith—in myself and in the process.

What I’ve learned on the slopes applies to every day of my life. Every challenge, every fall, every step taken with fear or uncertainty has brought me closer to true freedom—the freedom to embrace the unknown, to learn from mistakes, and to trust the process.

And, perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned that to move forward, sometimes all I need to do is lean forward and let life carry me. Without control, without pressure, but with trust that I’ll end up where I need to be.