Today, I went ice skating for the fourth time in my life. The first time was in my late teens, and despite back then being a passable roller skater, my recollection of ice skating was that it was somewhat of a disaster. (After mostly falling, I had no urge to try it again.) Last autumn, when my daughter’s school had an ice skating field trip planned, they needed drivers. I signed up. I was anxious, but thought I would try skating again.
(It was fun! And who knew I’d have the opportunity, at age 47, to revise my long-believed story that I couldn’t ice skate?) I went on a second school skating trip last week, and again, had fun. Both times my daughter skated, she grew more and more comfortable on the ice, as children tend to do when they are learning. (It was odd but also fun to be learning alongside her.) I fell once and hurt my wrist, but not so badly that it scared me off that cold frozen ground.
When a friend suggested we take our kids skating today, I thought, Sure! (Ice skating twice in one week! And with bruises to prove it! I’m starting to feel like a jock.) Today, again it was fun, but alarming (and annoying) how many people had stopped in the flow on the ice, tossing up human obstacles in the way of us beginners. Why had they stopped? Posing for photos or taking photos.
On the ice.
As a novice, ice skating is an activity that forces me to focus on what I am doing at each moment. The present. (Remember that old friend, the present?) On the ice, if I start to have a conversation, or think about something else for more than a moment, if my focus is on anything other than my body and my balance, that’s when I tend to fall. (“To go skating on your name…and by tracing it twice…” sang Tom Waits, about to fall through. More about that song here.)
I love taking pictures; I understand the urge. Like skating, it’s fun. But there’s a balance to be found, especially as a parent. Accumulating roll after roll of photographs, as a new parent I realized I can either take pictures, or I can participate in my life. (Today I wanted to say to the posers and clickers, “Enough with the smart phones and selfies. Enough. Stop documenting and live your life.” But I was polite, and just said, “Excuse me,” as I skated around them.)
Maybe it’s time for a new bumper sticker: Hang up and skate.
Rebecca Kuder 