IN FOUR DECADES as a sports fan and journalist, the most fun event I've attended was the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid, New York. I was just 13 years old and mesmerized by the variety of events and the peculiar and nuanced athletic skills, all set against the beautiful winter scenery. I can still picture ski jumpers soaring through the sky, cross-country skiers gliding through the woods with biathlon rifles across their backs, and curlers delicately pushing steel bowls full of concrete (aka "stones").

The most memorable part of my Olympic experience went far beyond taking in the sights. It was the spiritual joie de vivre that permeated Lake Placid. It seemed like everybody spoke a different language, but the camaraderie was palpable, even to a youngster like I was. With the Winter Olympics in Vancouver, British Columbia, taking place February 12-28, I was inspired to take a look at what exactly marks the Olympic spirit.

Some athletes and coaches share a passion for the Winter Olympics that goes far beyond surface-level to the spiritual. One of them is Ricky Bower, and I recently spoke with him.

A resident of Park City, Utah, Ricky was on the US Snowboarding team as a halfpipe competitor from 1996 to 2003. In 1999, Ricky reached his sport's pinnacle by winning the FIS Halfpipe World Championship. Although he never competed in the Olympics, the Games have long been central to his family. His father, John, competed in the 1964 and 1968 Winter Olympics in the Nordic combined ski event, and from 1992 to 1999 John managed the Utah Olympic Park in Park City. Meanwhile, Ricky has been a US Snowboarding halfpipe coach since 2006, and he'll guide the talented US team in Vancouver.

Ricky, who was brought up in a Christian Science household, gave me a glimpse into his experiences as both a competitor and a coach, and into the upcoming Olympics. "The Games have an amazing spirit of harmony," he says. "In our era of terrorism and war, the Olympics are one time when we all put aside our cultural differences and just come together."

Coaching at an Olympic level is especially challenging. A coach must deal with the egos, injuries, decisions, and desires of his competitors, as well as the pressure to win from sponsors, fans, and an entire nation. Ricky handles his variegated duties with a strong reliance on his spiritual understanding of life, gained through Christian Science. "I believe that people are inherently good because God, who is Love, created them," Ricky told me. "A lot of people don't think that way, especially in this age of terrorism when it seems like some people are just terrible. But having a spiritual perspective gives me a sense of peace."

Ricky's transition from competing to coaching has forced him to cultivate a deeper sense of humility and selflessness—central to the true Olympic spirit. "Coaching is a completely different realm of work," he says, "because the experience is based on pleasing other people. I have to be selfless and really aware of what other people need. To do that, I get my thoughts out of the way and let God, who is Mind, Principle, and Truth, do the thinking."

Perhaps Ricky's hardest task is coping with the desires of and pressure on competitors and coaches to win medals. At the 2006 Games in Turin, Italy, Americans took gold and silver in both the men's and women's halfpipe competitions, and this year's halfpipe team is expected to do at least as well. "Of course, I'd love to see all our riders win. But the real joy I find in coaching isn't in how the athletes do. If we give a 100-percent effort, then no matter how we do—even if other riders beat us—that's still a perfect day."

Speaking with Ricky reminded me of one of the best lessons I've learned through 40 years of competing in sports. For eons, I cared about nothing but winning—and was often a sore loser. But as I grew spiritually, cultivating my understanding of God, I began to see that God, as Love, bestows unique blessings and talents on everybody, including referees. I began to see games not as places where winners and losers are made, but rather as something like a symphony, where everybody shines as individual expressions of God's, divine Spirit's, light. And guess what? The more I thought and prayed like that, the better my teams and I performed.

Those are Olympian ideals that we can all strive to emulate. css