About a good teacher - or a true friend

When I was 30 I took up skiing. Right in my first winter I had an accident and hurt my knee severely, which resulted in six weeks of leg in plaster and a lot of pain.

The year after, we went skiing again and the skiing school  put me into a group of people who had been experienced skiiers, but had not done the sport for some time and needed practice. It was the wrong group for me, for, despite my obvious talent and skills, I was so scared that I really panicked at one point. So they "downgraded" me to a group of slightly advanced beginners and here I met the best instructor and teacher of my life.

He was a young Norwegian and he listened to my story of the accident with little visible sympathy (which I had gotten used to) , nodded and told me to get going. Whenever I fell, he waited until I was on my feet again and asked : "And what did you do wrong this time ?"  I soon realized that the accident had not been the work of some cruel fate, but my own fault. Which meant, I could learn to avoid this mistake and not have an accident again. This was one of the most important lessons of my life.

Sometimes I feel as if a giant wave of despair and bad luck is washing over me and I feel like drowning. In this situation there are friends who pull me out of the water and provide me with a towel and hot tea and a box of tissues. But the really precious friend is the one who teaches me to swim.

If you have a friend like this, you are lucky. I am that lucky - although I sometimes swear at the tiring lessons...

Photo: Sam C. Chan