If you want me, specifically, as your ski instructor, this is the move, babe:

• Call Deer Valley Skier Services (the ski school booking line): 888-754-8477 or 435-645-6648, and tell them you’d like to book private ski lessons with me for your preferred dates.​
• If needed, follow up with an email to skierservices@deervalley.com noting that you requested me by name, your dates, preferred times (AM, PM, or full-day), and the level/ages of your skiers.​
• Book as early as you possibly can; prime holiday and weekend slots go fast.

If Private Lessons Aren’t Available

If my private slots are booked (or you want other options), Deer Valley has some really solid Plan B (and C) choices:

• Adult Max 4 groups: Small-group adult lessons (ages 18+) with a maximum of four skiers per instructor, offered morning and afternoon. You can request Deer Valley’s Max 4 adult group program if you still want something super personal but your dream private day with me is gone.​
• Kids’ group programs: Adventure Club (ages 7–12), Reindeer Club (5–6), and other kids’ programs run all season with small ratios and fun, structured learning. I’m not guaranteed to be assigned to these groups, but they’re excellent on their own.

HEADs UP! What Kind of Mountain You’re Signing Up For

Let’s be clear about the vibe so you know what you’re walking into:

• Deer Valley is skier-only. No snowboards allowed, which keeps the feel very old-school, elegant, and carve-y instead of park-and-pipe chaos.​ For the board-y and jump-y kind of play, join me at an adult night at Woodward. I don’t coach at Woodward, it’s only play!
• The resort is in Park City, Utah, about 40 miles from Salt Lake City International Airport (SLC). Easy & peasy!
• If you’re flying private, you would land at Heber City Airport (Russ McDonald Field).

Ski ya later!!!

The post How to Actually Book Me as a Ski Instructor appeared first on SkierTV.

I’ve been miserably sick the last three days. It’s not Covid or the flu – I tested negative. I picked up something else and it is fully moving through me. And even with all my gratefulness practice, today has been one of those “this is really hard” days to practice it.

Gratitude in the hard stuff

Today Rhonda Byrne reminded me: be grateful for everything, not just the pretty parts. Be grateful for sickness. Be grateful for hard times. Be grateful for the darkness, too. It’s a tall order but I got it. I’m grateful that this is expanding my vessel to receive more health now and from here on out.​

I’ve barely moved off my couch and I think I’ve taken nine naps. My hip and knee joints hurt, my throat tickles every time I breathe through my mouth, and it sends me into sneezing fits. And still, underneath the misery, I’m forcing to see that my body is healing and recalibrating for what’s next.​

Mother Earth’s snow show

One thing I felt so excited about today: it started snowing. Winter wonderland finally arrived. I was starting to feel low-key concerned seeing everything still brown as we roll into December.​

I didn’t move from my couch much, but from here I can see the street light and the way the snow drifts through its glow. I’m watching it like Mother Earth put on a private show just for me. Hallelujah. Thank you!

Highest vibration reminder

This is a little love note to myself and to you: the highest vibrations are joy, gratitude, happiness, and passion.

For some people, feeling shifts first and thoughts follow. For me, I usually have to start with the thought and then the feeling comes. Gratitude is my shortcut. Some days, like today, I absolutely force myself to find the tiniest things to be grateful for – not because it’s cute or spiritual, but because it lifts me one notch up the emotional scale when I really need it.​​

Today’s tiny gratitude list

So here I am: feeling miserable and also deeply grateful. I’m grateful that I have this body as my vessel to live this life, even when it aches. I’m grateful that in just a matter of days, I’ll have skis on and be gliding off the mountain again.

I’m grateful I have my puppy to cuddle. I’m grateful for my comfy couch. I’m grateful that my fireplace is warming my back. I’m grateful that my internet is working so I can listen to “The Secret” podcasts and let those reminders wash over me. I’m grateful that I’ve been forced to slow down and go inward these last few days.​​ What are you grateful today? You’re welcome to keep it very simple.

Come ski with me

I’m so grateful that I have a ski instructor career where I get to share my passion and my heart on the mountain. Come and get some! I will happily hold your hand on the slopes and cheer for every little victory – on skis and in life.

The post Winter Wonderland from My Couch appeared first on SkierTV.

I did a backflip yesterday. It was my second time on a trampoline. I didn’t grow up stepping on a trampoline, ever. There is a little girl in me – curious and courageous. A coach walked me through a step-by-step progression. He showed me how to fall safely onto a big foam bed, then how to roll backward into a foam pit, and then how to jump into the foam pit. He guided me to backflip into a lower foam pit. After that, we moved to the trampoline. He demonstrated how to move my hands, counted down to the jump, and helped me feel and ride the springs. I repeated the movements with his help. I face-planted, and the sting from the textured trampoline net really woke me up. I hopped off to the hard side, and when I landed, I bit my tongue mid-bounce. I was spent, burned through all my calories, and breathless, yet I didn’t want to stop.

Three takeaways from his coaching:

• Step-by-step progression matters
  Building skills and confidence in small steps is crucial.  If we’d started straight on the trampoline, I might have talked myself out of it, letting fear win. My own journey with coaching and being coached today reinforced the value of patient progression—from the easy to the challenging, from cautious breaths to exhilarated leaps.
• Highlighting what I did right matters
  My coach highlighted each right move, which reminded the little girl inside me that “a good job” deserves recognition. Repeating those successes helps rewire self-talk from self-doubt to self-belief.
• One simple, repeatable approach works
  One instruction at a time, reinforced in multiple ways. Verbal cues, demonstrations, and hands-on guidance cover visual, kinesthetic, and auditory learning styles. I’m carrying that approach into my teaching—addressing all learning preferences for ski students as well.

In my skiing coaching, this gentle approach nudges my students forward. If confidence is low, we build it with repetition. If fear appears, we go to an easier run on a slower pace for a lap or two. When we’re on a tougher section and fear creeps in, I’ll propose three turns at a time, then they follow my lines. Before I take them to the top, they already know how to side slip, engage uphill ski edges, and shape turns to stop. Of course, life’s worries and pre-existing vulnerabilities throw off all of their newly learned skills, so I model it first and invite them to follow. I remind them to breathe, smile, and snap a photo.

My coach was McCoy on trampoline. My inner child thrived; that little girl was so proud! I love to play, and I was the oldest there among six girls. I didn’t mind. I’m working on keeping my courage up when I’m terrified of not belonging, rejection, making a clown of myself and more. The moment of awareness is powerful and unstealable. I found myself seeking validation, but awareness is growing. It’s a journey—new feelings with new people, a touch of doubt, and a resolve to rise higher. It’s remarkable how quickly I can shift between doubt and certainty. I did a backflip, and it felt liberating. I’ve carried many limiting beliefs that my joints are worn out and balance is off, but I’m choosing to rewrite that story.

Today and the season ahead

The countdown to the snow season has begun, and I’m choosing to stay present, balancing anticipation with patience. I’m ready to reach new heights, to learn, and to share this journey with YOU.

I’m grateful for this coated backflip experience, for the steadiness of my breath, and for the courage to step out of the comfort zone with full commitment. I’m excited for the snow season, AND I’m practicing presence—savoring the accomplishment of the backflip while staying open to the next summit.

I’m on a mission to reach new heights, embracing challenges with an open heart. My higher self is arriving, one brave step at a time. Thank you for seeing me and being here!

A note for you, friend
If you’ve ever hesitated to try something new, consider the three takeaways I’m carrying forward: progress in small steps, recognition of what you’re doing right, and keeping the approach simple while engaging all the ways you learn. You don’t need to be perfect to start—you just need to start, then keep going. Come and join me on a ski day at Deer Valley in 2025-2026 winter!

The post Backflip to Belief: One Coach, One Courageous Leap, A Lifetime of Learning appeared first on SkierTV.

Here’s how my ski instructor life started!

Fast forward from Poiana Brașov. After living in Los Angeles for ten years, I needed a change. Not a huge change, but something real. My translation business was still going strong in L.A. But I felt like I was stuck in a routine. I needed a gentle adventure. I wanted to explore what else was out there for me. I needed new energy, a new space.

I visited a bunch of places—San Diego, Ojai, Malibu, Ventura, Santa Barbara, Palm Springs. Then I landed in Big Bear. Big Bear was the most different spot of all. Pine trees and horse manure in the air. The pine tree smell took me right back to my island summers. It smelled like home.

I found a cabin with Wi-Fi, surrounded by pine trees. I loved the simple life there. For a whole week, I didn’t wear shoes. I didn’t know anyone except my friends Paul and Raya, who had a weekend getaway on the other side of the lake.

On my second day in Big Bear, Paul picked me up. He gave me the full tour—one market, police station, post office, airport, and the two resort bases. That was my Big Bear orientation.

We parked at the Snow Summit base, one of the two resort bases. We wandered around. A guy handed us a flyer—a job fair in two days with tons of seasonal jobs: bartender, ticket counter, ski instructor.

I thought, “I love skiing. This could be fun.” So, I went to the job fair.

I took my ski resume—including my ski vacations—and my babysitting experience—yep, that too! I sat down with my future assistant manager at a white plastic table, and we chit-chatted.

The day after, I got the job offer. Later, I learned that ski schools really look for someone who’s coachable and personable. Just being a good skier doesn’t mean you’ll be a good ski teacher. After all, I was hired at a table on a warm fall day. A ski instructor needs empathy, patience, and a light touch with life. You have to make safe decisions, be on time, manage your time well, and communicate clearly. Skiing skills aren’t the most important part. A great skier doesn’t always make a great instructor. I’m grateful to have those skills—most of the time, anyway!

That winter in Big Bear, I caught the snow bug for teaching.

P.S. My friends, Paul and Raya, have a movie on Amazon. Our Happy Place. It shows great scenery of Big Bear. Just a heads-up—it’s kind of creepy! Get the movie here!

P.S. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

The post From L.A. to Big Bear: My Leap into Ski Instruction appeared first on SkierTV.

I started skiing because of swimming. That’s right! It all began there. I was 13 the first time I strapped on skis. My original sport is swimming. I grew up by the water in Istanbul, Türkiye. My summers were spent at my dad’s and grandma’s summer homes by the water.

My dad’s summer home is on an island called Heybeliada—just a breezy 30-minute ferry ride from mainland Istanbul. I remember jumping off a diving platform deep into the water, expecting my dad to catch me. I was only 3. I’d climb four steps onto the platform. Dad would already be in the water, ready. Sometimes, I’d go deep—four seconds down—and he’d scoop me up, one arm pulling me to the surface like a superhero. People clapped for my little splash show. I loved that spotlight! The fears of being seen came much later, but back then? My little heart soared.

My grandma had a cherished summer home in Yeniköy, right by the Bosphorus. Such a magical spot. Yeniköy used to be a sweet little summer town – on the European side of the Bosphorus. Now it’s all city. That strait separates Asia and Europe. It carries a wild current from the Black Sea to the Aegean Sea through the Sea of Marmara. Grandma wouldn’t let me swim too far, but she loved to take me on the current’s ride. We’d jump in together, gliding for about 200 meters. Rest in peace, my grandma was my partner in crime. Then we’d walk back and do it all over again.

Summer meant switching between my dad’s place and grandma’s house. When I was 10, I started spending more time at my dad’s house and they built an amazing aquatics club right on Heybeliada. Every kid signed up for swimming, sailing, or water polo. Me? Swimming. Lots of laps in the 50-meter pool—3 to 6 kilometers a day, training hard three summers straight. Our team got stronger, thanks to our coach Mirca Hoca — imported from Poiana Brașov, Romania.

We called him Bay Mirca—that’s “Mr. Mirca” in Turkish. A retired swim coach with broken Turkish and a big heart. He taught me about sportsmanship, discipline, commitment, hard work, and not-so-instant gratification.

One winter, Bay Mirca surprised us all. He took the swim team to his hometown for our winter break. Indoor pool training in the mornings, skiing the rest of the day. That’s when I put on skis for the first time. The mountain air, the snow, the thrill of sliding—and not knowing how to stop—it was WOW. I got the powder bug right there, in Poiana Brașov. From then on, I chased winter like a love affair, skiing every chance I got. Two to ten days every season… until my Big Bear adventure started… That’s coming next post!

The post Swimming to Skiing: My Unlikely Winter Love Story appeared first on SkierTV.

Hey friend,

So, I did something kinda creepy earlier this week… I went to a children’s playground on adult night. Yeah, that’s right. There’s a 10-year-old girl inside me. Little 10-year old Ceylan wants to play, jump, and walks around skipping. So I took her with me—to Woodward. Asked my friends if they wanted to join, but they all kind of said yes with half a heart. So, I rolled solo.

Got there at 6:30 pm—half hour before “adult night” started. When I told the front desk person that It’s my first time and I’d like an orientation, he asked me to sign the waiver and gave a wrist band with a weird look. As I walked in, I realized I was even older than the moms around. Suddenly, I felt a little creepy. I grabbed a high chair, sat facing the trampolines. Seven trampolines filled with tiny humans—some barely taller than my waist—flipping, jumping, rolling.

And me? I had so many fears. My fears crept out and silenced that little Ceylan in me.

I’m afraid of being rejected. Not welcomed. Singled out. Failing. Not belonging. Falling and getting judged. Opening my mouth and people realizing I’m not from around here. The front desk not giving me a ticket for being too old, too thin, too weak, or not a member. Kids in line laughing and pointing going, “Go home, bake cookies!”

I’m just… afraid. Afraid someone will come up and ask me what I’m even doing there.

I watched frozen for an hour. Those kids took turns—flipping double, walking on walls like little spiders. And me? Didn’t belong. Why was I there anyway? Most adults were teens or in their early 20s—mostly boys or tomboys in black loose clothes. I couldn’t even tell how many girls were around. I felt so out of place. I was at a loss. Go back? Leave? Watch ‘til closing? No way. I couldn’t abandon little Ceylan inside me.

I sat in uncertainty, froze in fear, but I stayed. Until… I decided to go for a simple walk in the playground.

I stashed my jackets, fanny pack, and shoes in a cubby and walked in.

I saw the pump track away from audience. I rented ski boots and a helmet—felt weird paying another $30—but I did it. Tried the pump track 20 times, taking turns with skaters and rollerbladers. Had to take off my skis often, but hey, strong arms help.

It was emotional and exhausting, but I got “good job”s and fist bumps from twin 19-year-olds.

Here’s the truth: I’m terrified and fearless at the same time. Afraid of not belonging. Afraid of being rejected. Of making a fool of myself. Falling in front of people and getting judged. Wanting to run, hide, or quit—but… I show up anyway.

That little girl in me? She’s courage. She silences fears with her “lalala” song and takes me on wild adventures. I follow her.

Here’s the ski scoop!

Skiing is way more complicated than trampolines or the pump track. No one’s always there to hold your hand, show you how to put on skis, avoid the gaper gap, or pick your safe trails.

That’s where I come in. I don’t leave skiers behind like that front desk person at Woodward. I hold your hand. I guide you.

So here’s my invitation:

First and foremost—show up and take one TINY step. Show up for your desires. For your wants. For that little girl or boy inside you. Show up for life. Show up for you.

The path lights up as you show up. You’re scared? Show up anyway—that’s how you push beyond your edges.

Whether you’re terrified or ready to be fearless, just show up.

And if you want extra support, hire a ski instructor—ask me! I’m here to help you find your courage on the slopes.

The post How to Be Fearless When Terrified! appeared first on SkierTV.

Okay, friends, I get asked this question ALL the time: “What do you do off-season? Like, what actually keeps you busy when there’s no snow?” Well, grab a cup of kombucha (or Earl Grey), because I’m about to spill all the tea on my life beyond the ski season.

First things first — ski season is barely five months. Yep, just five fabulous months of carving corduroy and teaching turns, and then… what? What do I do with the other seven months? Here’s the scoop.

Come fall and spring, you’ll find me at the gym. I pump iron—deadlifts and squats mostly—thanks to my fitness competition years in my former life. I love that next-day muscle pain. Also, it helps to be able to lift dumbbells and little people. When you’re helping ski guests who’ve taken a tumble, you’ve got to have the muscles to lift them up. Thanks to all that heavy lifting, I can carry little ski kiddos around like they’re featherweights, which totally feels like my superpower.

Summer is my playground. Deer Valley isn’t just a ski mountain—it’s a full-on downhill mountain bike park from June to September. I’m all about the cross-country trails on Park City Mountain Resort and adrenaline-pumping downhill runs in Deer Valley. If you didn’t know, now you do: my ski mountain doubles as my summer fun zone. Plus, nothing beats mountain biking for getting that wind-in-your-hair, sun-on-your-face kind of happy.

Here’s a little nugget about me: I grew up by the water in Istanbul, Turkey. Swimming is my OG sport—backstroke was my jam—and my whole family are mermen and mermaids from scuba diving to water polo. So, I still hop into open water swim races, because some passions stay with you forever, and there is family pressure! As a connecting activity with my dad, we swim laps at the pool for 2 km for fun.

My newest obsession (and humbling experience) is kitesurfing. After tens of hours of lessons, I can barely kite upwind solo. I mean, the struggle is REAL. But being a first-timer again? It’s the best reminder ever to stay patient and empathetic. I get how scary it is to be new in a sport, and I remind myself to always keep that beginner’s mindset. Plus, it’s way more fun than just scrolling on the couch.

On the professional side of things, I’m a legal translator and interpreter. I spend a lot of time at depositions, pretrial meetings, and court hearings. Yep, behind that ski instructor smile is a “real job” that keeps me sharp. And yes, I clean up nicely—I rock professional suits at hearings and can turn heads off the mountain, too. Kisses!

Travel is a biggie in the off-season. Europe calls, and I answer. While most ski instructors avoid traveling in the winter months, I confess, I sometimes slip away for a summer vacation… especially in mid-January. When the days are short and my bones are frozen… This January, I went to Tulum—warm Caribbean waters melted my frozen bones. No shame. I usually avoid other ski vacations when I live in a vacation spot, but last year, I even went to Japan for a ski vacation getaway. Onsens helped me to unfreeze.

And finally, I keep planning to amp up my Turkish delight costume for the winter-end pond skimming party. Because ski instructing isn’t just a job—it’s a lifestyle, a passion, and yes, sometimes a little quirky.

So, when you ask what I do off-season, now you know: I train hard, play harder, work smart, dress sharp, travel often, and keep that ski life spirit alive every single day.

Ready for your ski adventure? Ski lesson reservations are open at Deer Valley Ski School. Hit me up if you’d like to take a lesson this winter!

The post Life Beyond the Ski Season appeared first on SkierTV.

Does anyone else feel a little weird right now in Park City? The trees are flaunting their fiery fall colors, but the trails are muddy messes and the weather’s overcast and cool. I mean, this morning I even got my feet wet through my sneakers walking Mogul (my dog) on the library field. It’s that in-between time, aka mud season; part of me feels a little MEEEH about it.

All summer, I biked nonstop and hiked, but now what? No more mountain biking and no more hiking!! No thanks to cold toes or muddy legs—comfort is queen here. If it involves mediocre suffering, it’s not fun for me. I can only mindfully tolerate so much discomfort before my joy meter plummets. So, this month, I’m leaning into the pause. A time to go inward, reflect, and set soft intentions instead of hard goals.

Speaking of intentions, I have one brewing that’s totally ski-related. HERE it is: I want to ski continuously from the top to the bottom underneath Thaynes chairlift—hello, moguls! I did it once last April, which was the end of the winter season, with soft moguls and strong ski legs!! I’m setting a new intention to do it come early January. To get there, I’m activating my ski muscles at the gym—quad strength, endurance, heart power. Yesterday, I didn’t have a good night’s sleep and didn’t feel like sweating… it was an inside struggle and I showed up anyway. I dragged myself to the gym and did 30 light weighted deadlifts instead of 70; 20 squats instead of 100; and 30 bicep curls while listening to my 90’s Turkish pop playlist. I was proud of myself for showing up. I never regret showing up for myself. That little stubborn spark inside? Yeah, it sometimes gets me into trouble, but it’s also one of my best superpowers.

So here’s a cheeky question for you: What’s your mud season like? Does it invite you to slow down or push harder? What’s a small step you can take toward your next winter goal—even if it’s just showing up in some way?

Mud season might be dark, but it’s also magical; transformation is! It’s my and your reminder to trust the flow of life—with an open heart and ready legs.

What’s your intention this winter? Share it with me—I’d love to hear.

Big hug with gratitude!

The post Mud Season Musings – Deepen the Pause and Take Small Steps appeared first on SkierTV.

I want to talk about something very real for me! I used to get obsessed with projects, loves, diets, competitions… I loved my goals, new year resolution and endless to-do lists —set it, chase it, conquer it. After decades of this single-minded stubbornness, I’m transforming fast like the seasons. I don’t do goals anymore. Nope. Instead, I trust the flow of life and keep my heart open with intentions.

When I set a goal, I got all laser-focused and locked in. Sometimes, my stubborn laser focus helps me win, but sometimes that stubbornness fails me big-time. I failed so many times with my ideas, my projects, my loves, on bike, on snow, on my hypothesizes… I fail and get up again and again. I strive to make original mistakes, rather than making the same mistake again and again. Now being mindful (hey, I’m trying!) helps me catch my failures early and pivot with grace. Then they follow me with shame and guilt but it’s another blog post!!!

Let’s come back to ski… This winter, my intention is to ski under Thaynes chairlift from top to bottom—black run, moguls, heart pounding, legs burning. It’s less about the finish line and more about the journey and the motivation to go out today during the mud season and go out to the mountains early in the day during the winter.

Even when it’s freezing cold and dark outside I remind myself: no regrets on showing up. Some days I don’t want to leave my cozy bed or my hairy cuddly companion (Mogul is the best!), but I do it anyway. And every time, I’m proud. No regrets, show UP!

So here’s a little blast for you: What stubbornness do you have that might be holding you back? What would happen if you replaced it with a loving intention instead? How can you take a mini-step toward that intention today—no matter how small or imperfect?

I’m also cooking up something exciting: a workout program just for beginner skiers and a comprehensive ski vacation guide. Want to be the first to know when they drop? Sign up for my newsletter below!

Thank you for being here and seeing me. Your light is welcome here!

Let’s keep shining and skiing—one mindful turn at a time.

Big hug with gratitude!

The post No More Goals—Just Heartfelt Intentions for Ski Season and… Life appeared first on SkierTV.

I like to get real —often skiing feels like a metaphor for life, right? Especially when fear shows up. Fear of failure. Fear of being seen. Fear of not being enough. Ugh, I know those voices way sooo well. There’s a secret I’ve been loving lately: what if I showed up with a beginner’s mindset every day? Like, what if each run, each turn, each moment outside was fresh and new—no pressure, just curiosity? I learn and relearn it from the little ones when teach at Deer Valley Ski School.

Park City is shifting into winter, and the fall colors are absolutely stunning—until the trails get too muddy and wet, and it’s just cold enough to make me want to hide under a blanket with my earl grey instead of bike or hike. That’s my cue to go inward. To reflect. To set intentions with kindness instead of pounding out strict goals.

The truth is: the power is all in the NOW. The only moment you and I really have is this one. So instead of beating yourself up about what you “should” be able to do, consider this your permission slip to be a beginner again. To feel scared, excited, unsure, and then just move anyway.

So, darling, what’s one place you can bring beginner’s curiosity into your life or ski game? What small step feels doable today? No pressure—just an invitation to show up with an open heart and maybe a little stubbornness in the best way.

Remember: the mountain—and life—are waiting for you exactly as you are.

Big hug w/gratitude

The post Beginner Mindset & the Power of Now on the Slopes appeared first on SkierTV.