A few weeks ago I went to Italy with my kids to ski for a few days. During the first two days it was snowing constantly, covering the slopes with fresh, soft snow. Many people found it uncomfortable – visibility was poor, the surface unpredictable – but I have always felt at home in those conditions. That is where I ski best.
On our way down a red slope, I stopped to wait for my daughter. A woman stood a few meters above me and said something in Italian. I don’t speak the language, but I understood she was asking me to wait. When I climbed up to her, I saw that she was shaking. She managed to explain in English that she was having a panic attack.
There was nothing dramatic to do. I gave her some chocolate and water, reassured her that we would stay with her, and suggested we take the slope one turn at a time. Slowly, turn by turn, we descended together until we reached the parking lot. The situation that had felt overwhelming at the top became manageable once it was broken down into small, steady steps.
The next morning the weather had changed completely. The sky was clear and the slope was hard and icy. On my first run, skiing alone, I fell near the top of the same slope. I stood up, felt pain in my shoulder, and decided to continue down carefully. Later I learned that I had a small fracture.
There were moments during that descent when I felt the edge of fear. And I found myself repeating a simple sentence: Yesterday you brought someone down from here with a panic attack. You can bring yourself down too.
When I reached the bottom, relieved, it struck me how often this pattern appears in life. We can usually see the path clearly when someone else is struggling. We know how to slow things down, how to break the problem into manageable parts, how to stay steady. Yet when we face our own obstacles, our perspective narrows and our confidence fades.
Sometimes we don’t need a new solution.
We only need to offer ourselves what we give so naturally to others.
We are often stronger for others than we allow ourselves to be.

