I should start by warning you that I am sort of stuck on this whole groove or rut thing.

As we settled into our second day in Snowmass, we felt compelled to visit the same restaurant we visited the prior year– Matsuhisa.  Eating sushi definitely makes me feel like I am in a groove.  I think I could eat it everyday, but I don’t.  Maybe that’s why it always excites me, and why I always finish wanting more.  Too much of a good thing can make you forget to appreciate what you have.  Sushi is one of those foods that can be scary if you don’t know your source, and it’s not every day that you get to eat in one of the finest sushi restaurants around.  I knew he had a few restaurants, but I just discovered that Nobu Matsuhisa has created quite an empire with restaurants all over the US, Tokyo, Europe, Australia, and the Bahamas.

We started off with a light and fresh yellowtail jalapeno sashimi…

And then moved on to a flaky (and non-fishy tasting) sea bass in black bean sauce with chives and a shiitake mushroom that resembled a starfish…

Followed by some really delicious sushi rolls…

Their food is a work of art, and eating here can definitely break the bank, but wow, what a treat!  Thank you, Japan, for this wonderful gift of sushi that you have shared with the world.

We were lucky enough to have planned this trip to start on a day that the mountains were getting hammered with snow.  Woohoo!  Powder day! For me, skiing embodies this idea of grooves and ruts.  It’s like skiing powder and skiing ice.  Anyone who has ever skied knows what it feels like to glide on the powder, every turn feeling like you are dancing.  The sound of nothing as your skis float through the snow heightens the sense of complete peace.  You can physically feel yourself groovin’!  You feel energized, excited, and free.  It’s as if life makes it all happen, and you are just there to enjoy the ride.

How about the other extreme?  Skiing on ice, and struggling with every turn to stay upright, let alone feel graceful.  The sound of skidding under your skis as they scrape the hard surface disrupts any perception of ease.  You think you want to be on the mountain, but it feels like work.  It’s more of a struggle than a dance, but you are doing it because sometimes it’s the only way down, and it is just what you do. Besides, you committed your whole day to being there, so you can’t quit.  This is what my life feels like when I am in a rut.

Think of anything you do on a regular basis.  When does it go from being a groove to a rut.  Is it too much of a good thing or just too much of anything?

At what point do you say, “I’d like to make a change?”