Angel Collinson
From Professional Skier to Sailor: Angel Collinson on New Adventures and Finding Alignment
We recently sat down with Angel Collinson—a two-time Freeride World Tour champion, TGR film veteran, and now, a world sailor and retreat leader—to talk about her pivot from a decade-long professional skiing career to pursuing a dream on the open ocean. She shares candidly about the challenges of stepping away from a life she built and the profound lessons she’s learned while seeking new horizons.
Can you give us a quick rundown of your career journey—where you’ve been and where you’re going?
My background is in competitive skiing. I grew up at a ski resort and raced super competitively until I was 18, gunning for the US Ski Team. I narrowly missed it—thankfully, because that world was rigid and not me. I was also burnt out from 11 years of nose-to-the-grindstone training.
I went to college on an academic scholarship, but for fun, I entered big mountain competitions and started doing really well. That led to a 10-year professional career, with about eight years focused on film skiing with companies like TGR. Eventually, I outgrew it. I was hungry for more of the world and wanted to sail the open seas—a childhood dream.
The life pivot came in 2019. I met my now-partner, Pete, a sailor. We bought a boat a month later. I technically retired in 2021 and sailed around the world for two years. Now, I’m still figuring out what the hell I’m doing with my life, but I’ve moved into leading transformational, nature-based retreats and working with people in experiences.
Looking back, what does professional skiing mean to you now?
When I was in it, it often felt like a burden I felt guilty about. Everyone around me wanted to be where I was, and I was often thinking I’d rather be playing beach volleyball. I couldn’t really let in the gratitude because I felt so guilty for not enjoying it as much as I thought I should.
Now, in hindsight, I’m just really grateful for it. It was flipping hard and also so cool. I learned a lot. When I look back, what it means to me is a chapter—an impossible-to-summarize chapter—of lessons, teachings, beauty, and hardship. It was full of things that weren’t necessarily my choice, but that I’m so glad I had.
What was the pivotal moment or feeling that made you decide to step away from that life?
There were two moments that really stand out. The first was when I blew my knee out on a heli-skiing trip in Alaska. I was already jaded and exhausted by the logistics, and I admitted to my friend, Griff, that I was tired of being scared all the time. The line in skiing is: if you’re not scared, it’s not going to make the movie. The injury was a freak thing, but immediately, I was like, “This is an opening.” At that point, quitting still felt impossible, but the thought was planted.
The second moment was two years later. I was filming at home at Alta, and I literally could not make myself leave the door. I would reach for the handle and just fall in a basket case, weeping. It was my soul rattling the cages, being like, “No more.” I felt so silly, but my soul was just done. And I had to listen to it. I don’t know if I really had a choice.
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Angel Collinson
Can you describe the feeling you get when skiing a big line?
The process to get into that flow state is actually more challenging than the ski itself. It’s almost like waiting for endorphins to kick in when running, but the endorphins need to come out at the top of the line.
I have to lock into a state of trust and surrender at the top—trust in myself, trust in nature. I ask the mountains for their blessing. Once I begin, I’ve entered that state, and then I just get to kind of reap the rewards. I’m still scared, but once I’m actually skiing, I’m less scared because I’m just doing it. I have to ski from that place of trust.
“We forget that we are nature. Our bodies are nature. Connecting to ourselves actually connects us to nature and the natural world.“
– Angel Collinson
You traded the mountains for the open seas. What was the most significant discovery you made about yourself while sailing around the world?
That we make our own prisons.
I really got to see that saying, “Wherever you go, there you are,” so clearly. I literally stripped away everything I knew in my life—all the stories, associations, and limits imposed by sponsors or my career. I was doing a dream that no one else was funding, with zero strings attached. And my brain still found those familiar limiting pathways. It was like, “Shit, it’s all me.”
But then it’s also so liberating because if you make your own prison, you also have the key. That begins the lifelong journey of learning how to not keep locking yourself in everywhere you go.
How does the ocean speak to you, and how is it similar or different from the mountains?
It speaks to me dynamically. I call it earth speak—the language you can see, hear, feel, and taste that our bodies are tracking all the time. My lifetime in the mountains taught me earth speak, and when I got into the ocean, I realized, “Oh, it’s the same language, it’s just a different dialect.”
The mountains are rock solid, changing a little when the wind blows the snow. The ocean, however, is always changing. Every day is a different vibe, different smell, different color. It’s crazy.
What does full alignment with nature feel like, and how do you achieve it?
I think it’s maybe the most important question we can ask right now. We forget that we are nature. Our bodies are nature. Connecting to ourselves actually connects us to nature and the natural world.
The way we treat ourselves is directly tied to how we treat the planet. If we live in extractive ways from our own bodies, it perpetuates the problem of living in extractive ways on the planet.
The way I achieve alignment is by remembering that we are not separate. What I do for myself and my body is in honor of that. And then, if I can get my butt outside every day, that’s super important.
What is the core message you hope to share with people through your retreats and new endeavors?
It sounds so simple, but it’s really about spending intentional time outside to help us listen to what is needed. What is needed out there, and what is needed in here—because the solution will be the same.
It’s easiest to listen when in nature. The door into that room of understanding is awe. I practice what I call “awe meditation.” I find a cool spot in nature, sit down, and don’t check my phone. I look at something that inspires awe, and I let that help me slow down. I let the majesty of nature overwhelm my thoughts. If I give myself permission to not have to figure anything out or fix anything for just five minutes, then impressions arise.
What is the adventure you are currently pursuing?
How to not be a kook in all areas of my life. [Laughs] Also, surfing. I’m trying to move to the ocean full-time and be a water woman.
STUDENT OF THE ELEMENTS
BY ANGEL COLLINSON
I am a student of the elements, developed in darkness
like the rest of us, water was my first language
but I was born terrified to speak it.
‘I’m scared of water’ I said for years
but like a tide pool the truth distilled clear
water is my teacher for working with fear
it started with snow
flakes formed structure
on steep mountain lines, skiing gave me wings
navigating free fall I learned fear is not bad
it’s an informant of things –
what we care about, what’s at stake
when we actually surrender, what do we fear will be taken?
when I’m scared I pray to earth
and as the saying goes – you can’t stop the waves,
but you can learn to surf
so I followed water from the glaciers to the Sea
oceans of change threatened to drown me
drowning – my worst fear – to sink and not swim
but water in snow form taught me Nature’s hymns
in silence outside, Earthspeak sings
a tidal tongue of sacred things
Whispering of rhythms, of seasons, of cycles
in this, I find great comfort.
I believe in the vast intelligence of life,
of which I am part
our lives are strings in the Symphony of this vast work of art
I am scared of many things, most of all the unknown
but Earthspeak sings, and serenades me home
As I approach the ever-changing horizons of life with fear and care
I give my thanks to Nature
and I offer my trust as prayer.
Like the rest of us, developed in darkness,
water was my first language
and I’m grateful to speak it