Blind Faith

                                                            (Photo by Suzanne Carver)

Last week I was fortunate to be able to volunteer at the New England Blind and Visually Impaired Ski Festival (NEVI Fest) held at Sugarloaf. I've been a volunteer with Maine Adaptive Sports and Recreation for the past several years and have had many, many touching and empowering days with incredibly courageous people. But being a part of the NEVI Fest seemed to take things to a whole different level - 30 intrepid, inspiring blind or visually impaired skiers and over 70 compassionate, dedicated volunteers. The energy of the group was deeply wonderful and participating was truly a life-changing experience. Here is my attempt at capturing some of the feelings/sensations of being a blind guide in alpine skiing:
 

Blind Faith

He softly holds my arm, quietly

letting me know that he trusts me.

He cannot see, has never been able to,

and I am to be his guide.

We are student and teacher, both.

We walk out the door and he patiently waits

while I set his skis next to his feet.

We fumble for a bit, but eventually

 are ready to descend the first gentle trail.

I take a breath and gaze out over the valley,

 silently acknowledging that

this view I so dearly love,

that is ever-changing with the seasons, the clouds,

and the light of the sun,

is something he cannot enjoy.

We start down the slope as I carefully

call his turns,

the other guide making sure that

all is well.

We find a tentative rhythm and I see that

he sometimes fights the hill,

hasn’t quite internalized that

he is dancing with the mountain

and that it is on his side.

They are a team,

we all are.

I believe that I know what he needs -

a blind faith of my own.

And it starts to dawn on me that he

seems to know that I know.

We talk a bit, the give and take

of teacher and student, both.

I marvel at that blind faith,

at the trust and the courage that he,

one so young, displays

 as he does learn to feel the hill,

find his rhythm

 and dance his very own

mountain dance.

 I’m in awe as I again gaze

across my valley and see the tips of the peaks

bathed in the light of the low afternoon sun.

I feel a smile all through my body

 that is accompanied

by the sensations of

accomplishment and deep gratitude.

I’m not blind, I can see –

but it’s what I feel as I realize that

I deserve the blind faith

 he has put in me.

Student and teacher, both

sharing a faith in each other

 that actually

is not blind

at all.

Sarah Carlson

February 16, 2013