Today is a dreary day in Aspen.  Rain mixed with wet snow; slush, clouds. 

Yet it's still beautiful. 

Yesterday I went for a late afternoon walk. In the snow. And enjoyed every minute of it. Today? Not so inclined to go out. And that's okay. I can stay in, be warm and productive. Getting some writing done. 

I'm currently juggling multiple projects. Two nonfiction books, one screenplay that I'm also turning into a novel and a follow-up television series that would be the second book. Plus this blog. So a rainy, dreary day is perfect. The only downside is that my options for exercise are severely limited. But that's also about balance. Some days I do intense exercise like skiing or hiking up mountains. Others I take off. 

In the meantime, enjoy the pictures  I took on yesterday's walk. They almost look like I took them in black and white…

I'm not a big fan of selfies – of myself especially.  So this might be the only one you'll get. 

Interestingly, it symbolizes what Jung called the "Shadow Self." Stolen from Wikipedia, here's a definition/description: In Jungian psychology, "shadow" or "shadow aspect" may refer to (1) an unconscious aspect of the personality which the conscious ego does not identify in itself. Because one tends to reject or remain ignorant of the least desirable aspects of one's personality, the shadow is largely negative, or (2) the entirety of the unconscious, i.e., everything of which a person is not fully conscious. There are, however, positive aspects which may also remain hidden in one's shadow (especially in people with low self-esteem). Contrary to a Freudian definition of shadow, therefore, the Jungian shadow can include everything outside the light of consciousness, and may be positive or negative. "Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote, "and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is."^[2] It may be (in part) one's link to more primitive animal instincts,^[3] which are superseded during early childhood by the conscious mind.

According to Jung, we all have a shadow self. The key is to know that and address it. The quotes here offer some guidance. 

For me, yesterday was a day of shadows and clouds. Skiing is a good metaphor. When the sun is shining, the shadows are more defined and it helps you recognize the ups and downs, the "gooves" in the snow. But when it's cloudy it's monochromatic, which is a lot more difficult (not to mention boring) to maneuver. 

It's like living a life of mediocrity instead of one where you challenge yourself. Change and conflict help you see the light.

And the dark. 

I confess: I've been cautious to take photos from the chair lift; afraid I'd drop the phone into the snow below. Even though it's on a cord around my neck. I've also demonstrated my paranoia (or is it just cautious prevention?) by attaching my gloves to my jacket and having a retainer for my sunglasses. (To be fair, I've already lost two pairs of sunglasses in the last two months, so…)

You can laugh. I'm laughing at myself. 

As I rode the lift up, I chatted with a fellow skier, a man visiting from Texas, who asked me about the lack of people on the slopes yesterday. This was on Friday, January 6. 

My response? A few reasons. First, I explained, it was a lot busier the week before (the week between Christmas and New Year's). The lift lines were a lot longer. Oh, horrors! We had to wait as long as ten minutes – 10 minutes! – to get on the lift. (That was sarcasm, if you didn't guess). And even at the busiest time of the year, with the exception of quite a few more group ski classes than usual, the slopes still weren't that crowded.

Why? Part of it could have to do with the fact that I was skiing Buttermilk, the easiest of the four mountains. But I think (and from what I've heard) the biggest reason is the impact in the improvement in technology. The lifts are apparently significantly faster than they used to be. So, not only does it reduce the time waiting in lift lines (which used to be as much as 30-45 minutes in peak season) to less than 10 minutes, it also (obviously) moves you up the mountain more quickly, which translates to the opportunity to get in a lot more runs in a lot shorter time period. Great! And what does that lead to? For most people, it means that you can get a whole day's skiing completed in a fraction of the time. As a friend said, in two hours, you can get as much skiing in as you used to get in a whole day.

No wonder I've had some days of exhaustion after only 2 hours of skiing! (Makes me feel better). It also means I can be more productive and get a full days' writing or work done and still go skiing, even when I take into account the time it takes to get my ski garb on and walk to the bus and get to the slopes. (Of course, if I skied Ajax, I wouldn't need the bus time back and forth).  

I love it. Yet there is a downside that I wonder if they'd considered when they sped up the lifts. Apres ski isn't the same. It used to be that pretty much everyone would ski all day and then relax and have fun at the end of the ski day. Now, people can ski for a couple of hours anytime throughout the day, which means they could ski in the morning, in the mid-day, or at the end of the day, and still do a lot more the rest of the day.

Interesting, isn't it, how the repercussions to a single decision – a single improvement in technology – can have such a ripple effect? 

While I'm not a big fan of McDonalds, this campaign slogan is a good one. (Which I guess means I'm more of a fan of their advertising agency, and that makes me feel better).   

I haven't skied in a week – last Friday – which was December 30.  I took off Saturday (New Year's Eve) for a few reasons. First, I'd skied or hiked every day for a week and needed a break. Second, we hadn't had any new snow for a while and the conditions were icy. And third, it was getting crowded. That's the least important (and most whiny) reason, since even though the lift lines were long, I still didn't have to wait more than 10 minutes and that's ridiculous to complain about. Still, it added to the reasons.  Instead of skiing, I walked around town and did some errands, and then enjoyed the apres ski festivities. 

I also took off on Sunday, January 1, and I hiked up Smuggler's mountain instead. Monday I walked to the hospital and back, which took almost two hours.  Tuesday I had a "stay at home" day and just worked and wrote. The next day was another hike up Smuggler's Mountain, and then I did something rare for me. I had another stay-at-home day on Thursday; the only activity being a walk to the library for a meeting. 

So why belabor my daily activities? To demonstrate the importance of taking a break.  Today the weather is perfect (as long as you can handle a high of 17 degrees); there are several inches of new snow, and I'm raring to go!  I'll appreciate it infinitely more after the break.  

And this, dear friends, is why I love living in Aspen. I don't have to go skiing every day to fully appreciate it – because I can go the next day or the next. So – to steal from McD's agency again… "I'm Lovin' It!"  

The word "accumulation" has a dual – and paradoxical – meaning in Aspen. 

When it comes to the snow, accumulation is the way to measure the impact of the precipitation. I can look at the weather channel online or just look out the window at the trash hut to see how much snow we've gotten. 

(To check how much it's snowing now, I look up at the mountain and whether I can see it or not. Today? Not.)

When talking about snow, accumulation is a good thing. In moderation, that is. Six to ten inches is perfect for an average snowfall. Less and it barely feels like anything has happened. More and it can get heavy to ski through (especially the next day).  

Another interpretation of "accumulation" is related to possessions. Ironically, living in the town of prosperity, the lifestyle here isn't so interested in this form of accumulation. Yes, I had to buy skis and the related paraphernalia in order to enjoy the outdoor activities, but beyond that, less is more. There is neither pressure nor need to have more than one functional ski jacket, for example. In fact, wearing the same one is preferable so your friends will have an easier time recognizing you. The space in my place is limited, yet feels airy and open because it's (relatively) decluttered. Other than a couple of things here and there, there's nothing to add, and nowhere to add it. 

The same is true with wardrobe. No one seems to notice what you're wearing if you're a local. Yes, the tourists stand out with their unblemished matching ski outfits, but the rest of us couldn't care less. 

Just like with the accumulation of snow, it's soft flakes blanketing the ground softly, there's a certain peace in the absense of any drive for accumulation of material objects. I have what I need, and life is good. 

As I was skiing the other day, I was talking with a friend about snowflakes and how they're supposed to all be unique. It boggles the mind that there are so many possibilities, so many combinations to be able to make that prediction.  

Then I saw these images. As I said in a post a few months ago, this is another example of "somebody having fun upstairs." Some kind of Divine force or energy or "personality" is "upstairs" creating each of these beauties of creation. 

Just like each human being on Earth. 

What would the world be like if we were all the same? How boring would that be? 

What makes you unique? 

One of my answers to that question lies in this blog. How many people just take up and leave someplace they've lived for decades and moves somewhere they don't know a soul? I'm certainly not the only person to have done this, and it's not even the first time I've gone someplace new myself. But it is the first time I've done it at this age, to someplace this far away, without a job or connection of any kind. 

So, today, ponder and celebrate your uniqueness as you appreciate the beauty in the sacred geometry.

http://www.snowcrystals.com/

Being January and the beginning of the year, the word "forecast" has multiple meanings. Ironically (or coincidentally?) I'm writing a chapter on fate and destiny and precognition for a new book I'm working on. 

One thing about living in Aspen, or in any ski resort town, is that almost any kind of winter weather is good. Sun's out? Great! Let's go skiing! Snowing? Great! We need it! Let's go skiing! The only "bad" weather is rain (which would melt the snow and create crappy skiing conditions); or not enough variety. 

So "forecasts" are pretty important in helping you plan your day (or week), even if you decide to take a day off from skiing. 

As we start the new year, we look forward to the potential for the next 365 days. In some cases, it's trepidation and in others it's excitement. Just like some of us would "read the book" of our lives, and others prefer to stay in the dark and watch it unfold in time. Some check the forecast and prepare, and others look out the window.

How about you?

The "theme of the day" appears to be energy. It's a subject that keeps popping up all over the place.  So, what is energy? How does it work? 

Without getting too deep in this post (which I'll reserve for the book I'm working on now), I will say that this theme of "energy" is probably the best New Year's resolution I've seen. Let's break it down…

"Become more aware."  That alone is the best advice there is. Become more aware of everything. What you eat, how you spend your time, who you associate with, what gets your attention.  

"What is really worth." How do you define what – and who – is "worth" your time and energy? Does the activity elevate you or drain you? 

"Your energy." What is "your energy?" I created an activity to monitor your energy level, and it's pretty interesting. Personally, I'm quite aware of how my energy flows as it relates to productivity and creativity. It helps me manage my time and schedule. For me, I am freakishly efficient for the first 4-6 hours of the day. Then I take a "physical break" by doing some kind of physical activity – usually skiing or hiking (or, before moving to Aspen, going to the gym). Then for the rest of my day, I lose my "edge" of self-motivation and the "window of creativity" closes. 

But, still, I could benefit by becoming more aware of my actions. Of the things that might not be "worth my energy."

So – here's today's theme song. Enjoy!

New Years Day.  The day of new beginnings. A chance to start over. A blank page. 

As someone who is constantly aware, re-thinking my life and practices just about every day, I'm not inclined to set "resolutions." But I do love the idea of a fresh start. 

Given my experiences of the past year, if there's anything I'll be extra-aware of this new year is to be prepared for anything. And to try to maintain a "sense of adventure" as it unfolds. 

When I wrote the "Very Special Epilogue" to Volume III of my DUET stories novels, I was inspired to write the following quote:

“Fear doesn’t come from lack of love; it comes from lack of trust.  The solution is to trust yourself, to trust each other and to trust your connection with the Source of all Love and Light. To trust God." 

If I have any resolution – or revolution – it would be this.

In the meantime – here's wishing you a new year filled with love and trust. 

Wow. What a year. 

One of the things I love about New Year's Eve is the opportunity to reflect on the year; to consider the things that have changed and what you've learned. 

From a macro level, the lessons are harsh and terrifying. Who knew there was such hatred and bigotry in the world? Who could believe there would be such a divide between humanity? 

But as this is my blog and platform, I'll refrain from tackling the big issues (and probably put them into a new book or blog), and just look at the micro/personal level. 

I started out 2016 certain I wouldn't live through the year. I also had a to-do list that felt endless. Mostly to do with settling my mother's estate after her death in October, 2015. As that monumental task was in the process of being completed, I made the decision to move to Aspen, producing another tsunami of things to do. And then I arrived, started my new life (and this blog). Using this image as a guide, here are my responses:

 http://www.skiptomylou.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/2016-Year-In-Review-Printable-1.pdf

I am proud of:  taking the leap and moving someplace I didn't know a soul. 

My best memory: waking up and opening my eyes to see Ajax (every morning).

My best idea: the screenplay I finished and the new book I'm finalizing.

I like to spend my time: creating; inventing; writing; communing with nature.

My friends are: the best.

My favorite food: tough call; instant response is sushi. 

My favorite color: green and the sparkling white of new, untouched snow.

My favorite animal: any and all, as long as they're healthy and happy.

My favorite song: oh, tough one! My initial response is "Sing" by Pentatonix, though there are dozens.

My favorite book: another tough call. I'll go with Another Day by David Levithan. 

Next year I want to learn: how to get my screenplay bought, produced and released.

Next year I want to go see: more friends visit me here in Aspen. 

Next year I want to be better at: finding the energy/inspiration to write/create at other times of the day other than mornings.

HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone!