Perception is Reality

​Yesterday I went skiing. For those who've never skied with me, it's probably worth mentioning ... apparently I’m not the best skier on the slopes. In fact, I'm pretty bad. Well, really bad. I know this because almost every person I’ve ever skied with has offered me a steady stream of suggestions for improvement. Repeatedly. Exhaustively. The thing is, when I ski alone, I feel like my technique may be almost as picturesque as those expert skiers, wearing the latest sportswear, who effortlessly and gracefully glide down the mountain as though they were starring in some sort of snow ballet. You know them, they're the people who look happy, healthy, refreshed, and even have great hair when they take off their hats at the end of the day. I skied alone all afternoon and felt like I was really good.  It was fun.
 
I also spent a fair amount of time thinking about why I enjoy skiing given that I’m no good at it. The list was pretty long. 

• When the weather is nice (and it usually is because I’ve definitely become a fair weather skier), the views are breathtaking. Living in Colorado, I’d be crazy to miss out on this experience.​
• ​People who ski are fascinating. It's fun and interesting to talk with them, almost without exception. Most are willing to chat on the chair lift, and I especially enjoy hearing about their careers and travel experiences. 
• Skiing reminds me of some very fun times and creates even more fun memories. I first learned to get from the top to the bottom of a ski hill, and live to tell about it, at Mount Brighton when I was 16 years old. As I recall, I learned to ski at night and in jeans. It was a cold, but fun, experience, and I remember being a little surprised that I was able to do it at all. Not much later, a kind friend who was my parents’ age, spent two days helping to refine my technique (ha!) at Boyne Mountain. The runs were longer (and gentler), and it was a blast. Then there was the Spring Break trip with more patient friends (picture three college girls and six pairs of skis driving from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to the Rocky Mountains in a little red Chevette). There were girls and couples weekends, family outings, and those few times I was able to keep up with my eight-year-old son who often yelled, "Wheee" as he "raced" down the mountain with his pole-less arms outstretched while grinning from ear to ear.
• I’m always amazed that I’m basically warm when I ski and marvel at the way I can regulate my comfort via gear that contains an amazingly large number of zippers.  I especially appreciate that I can unzip the sides of my jacket if I need to cool down, although that often becomes an issue when I mistake those openings for pockets.  If I had a nickel for every time I’ve stuck my cell phone into one of these openings only to feel it drop to the ground ... But given that I learned to ski in jeans, and have very few childhood memories of being warm while sledding, I really appreciate modern day ski wear that keeps me toasty warm, especially at low temperatures.
• Skiing is physically challenging. Even the very best skiers I know are at least a little tired after a full day of skiing. I, of course, am exhausted.  My ability to last through a full day of it ought to be good for me, and that makes me feel like I've accomplished something.

 
Yesterday was the first mid-week skiing I’ve done outside of a Spring Break in ages, and maybe ever. The crowd is older, the lines are shorter (or non-existent), and the pace is a little slower. I fit in better. Or at least I feel like I do. Yesterday's experience led to a lunch conversation with my husband about perception and reality.  If you feel like you ski well (even if you don’t), are you having any less fun than people who really do ski well?  Many people must think that the answer is yes, because so many of them are so eager to help me improve. But there is no denying the fact that it is possible to have a great day on the slopes even if you are a pretty bad skier. I have proven this to be true :)
 
Thinking about ski frustrations and fun, of course got me to thinking about Tech Frustrations. And it had me comparing them with ski frustrations. It made me realize that when I get frustrated with technology, I’m often in a hurry and/or being helped by someone who knows way more than I do about how something works. I’m surrounded by these people, and I can also be one of these people. When I understand something inside and out, I can get so excited about it that I want to share my knowledge (and enjoyment) with others to get them up to speed as quickly as possible.  (This must be how skiers feel when they’re around me.)
 
If you experience a Tech Frustration, and have the time to slow down, I suggest you give yourself permission to explore, learn, and enjoy … at your own pace. I've learned that Google can answer almost as many questions as "the experts".  You simply enter your question; for example, “How do I reset the time on my Samsung Galaxy phone?”  You'll usually receive a number of pointers to helpful information. YouTube may even provide you with a video showing step-by-step instructions. 
 
The bottom line is that you don’t need to be tech savvy to enjoy tech products. As I mentioned previously, you don’t need to use every feature of a product to put it to good use. Some features may not be designed for a user like you. If you’re able to slow down, go at your own pace, explore functionality on your own terms, and enjoy the view, you may be able to eliminate a lot of Tech Frustrations.