excerebrose (eks-SER-ee-bros) adjective

Brainless.

To not listen to your gut is excerebrose.

I envy my son who has grown up with a healthy dose of confidence. When his gut speaks, he listens. If he's full, he stops eating. If the song seems wrong, he changes the channel--he doesn't care who is or is not there. If it seems dangerous, he'll be careful. Not lazy or cowed, but careful and determined. He is not excerebrose.

Now I did an excerebrose thing on my vacation and it came close to ruining it. I didn't listen to my gut.

I have never had on a pair of skis in my entire life. Never. And I'm a control freak. I've learn that by being married. So put me on skis and the one thing I'm fighting for is control. As long as I don't have control, I'm uncomfortable, nervous, prone to panic.

So what is the best thing for me to do? Take a lesson. I knew that from the start.

Then our dear friend says to my frugal husband, "There are several in the group who haven't skied before. We're going to spend half of the first day getting them started. We'll say everything a ski instructor will say and it will be free."

Well, I am not really excerebrose, but I have to learn things my own way in my own time. Two of the phrases I am determined to strike from my teaching vocabulary are: "All you have to do is..." or "you just...[do this/that/etc.]." It's too easy to assume that your student has a knowledge base that seems natural to have. I didn't have that knowledge base, the instructions for skiing were too simplistic--I didn't even know what questions to ask. And I needed to stay on terrain where I was comfortable.

But there are all these experienced people saying, "The only way to learn it is to feel it, so get on the lift."

My gut said no. I should have listened to it. I needed the practice on something gentle--something that didn't need a lift to negotiate. I needed that control--and I could have discovered it on a surface not as steep and in a situation that didn't lend itself to panic. I was excerebrose to ignore that gut. I got on the lift, which I must add was moving at the speed of life. I swear it. And I made a less than graceful exit, and destroyed every bit of confidence, raised the fear level to extreme and there I was without the tools to get down safely either. I don't mind falling, I don't mind speed, I just have to know how to control both or I panic.

So was the entire trip an excerebrose venture? Absolutely not. I had to sit out the other days with a twisted knee, but my creativity had a field day--two actually. I soaked in details, I watched people, I read books, I jotted phrases when they came to me. I watched my boys--all three of them--have the time of their life, and then the cherry on top was when my dear husband arranged for a snowmobile ride to the top of the Continental Divide for me so that I wouldn't miss the view.

I have to learn to listen to my gut. But as I write I think what I need to do is not just listen, but honor, and MAKE other people understand that I know what's best for me. If I had been more vocal, perhaps more clear in why I needed smaller hills, more time, then I would have gotten assistance rather than insistance that I go beyond my comfort level too soon. But even if I didn't, I have to know how to stand my ground in the face of opposition. To do otherwise is excerebrose.

It's great to be home!!! I did write EVERY DAY while I was gone. Just had to use pen and paper.