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How a Ski Area



                                                                      Can Reconnect Us




                                                                               To Our Space &




                                                                                          Each Other




                                                                                                     By Curt Steinhorst





















                                                                      She builds speed   as her skis cut the ungroomed

                                                                      snow, like finger traces in the soft sand of a Zen
                                                                      garden. The morning sun fills the crisp air with the
                                                                      promise of a glorious day. She admires the scenery
                                                                      in quick glances, away from her immediate route,
                                                                      grateful to have this quiet mountainside nearly

                                                                      to herself.
                                                                         Her phone buzzes. She continues her descent,
                                                                      releases her right pole, and reaches into her front

                                                                      pocket to check the notification. A text from her
                                                                      boss: “Do we have any room left in the conference
                                                                      budget? Suddenly…
                                                                         WHOOSH.
                                                                         Adrenaline pumps. Relief washes over her.

                                                                      Perhaps it was the phrasing of the text that
                                                                      caused her path to drift left—narrowly missing a
                                                                      thin, leafless tree (or person).



              38  |  NSAA JOURNAL  |  SUMMER 2018
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