When I was a pretty young kid, I learned how to ice skate at the widest part of the Black River across the street from my house on State Park Road in Chester N.J. Every place I’ve ever ice skated since then has always been measured against those first experiences. It’s like a first love, so crisp and real and unfailingly joyful in my memory bank.
I got to tap into some of that ecstatic reflection today when I went to ice skate with my two youngest kids, Sasha and Gareth at Mennen Arena. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a great ice skater, in fact today, I discovered that I had to keep my arms out like I was flying in order to feel like I wasn’t going to fall.
But there was a lot of joy in making those first forays out onto the ice. And even though the surroundings could not thave been any more different than the Black River of my memory, I was struck by the wonder of gliding. Sasha, reaching out her hand to me, so typical of the generous person that she is, and gliding with me hand in hand. It was a really beautiful thing; effortless, unbounded and full of love.
And I realized, right at that moment that I don’t do enough gliding in my life. So many of my day to day choices can revolve around over-thinking, and forcing solutions and being impatient for the outcome. Gliding let go of all of that stuffy stuff, and it was so much fun.
I’m going to glide more, and hopefully hold Sasha’s hand when she asks me to while I do it. Such a great gift to glide, and an even greater one to glide with Sasha: My brave, bold beautiful daughter.
BIG, BIG DAY FOR ME!