Peggy Fleming I aint

However, skating was fun, and my kids and I were shocked when we looked up and realized that we had been at the rink for two hours and twenty minutes. There was a time when I used to care VERY much about figure skating, taking a couple of lessons a week, practicing three or four times a week. It wasn't all that long ago - the winter of 2001, if I am remembering correctly. But after my surgery, skating kind of hurt - my ribcage, my pecs, the whole area just got terribly inflamed every time I went out and skated (skating is VERY upper body intensive - don't believe for a second that it is all about the legs....in order to spin and turn, you need really good strength, control and flexibility in the core). And I realized before too long that I needed to find another creative and athletic release....

(So for anyone who thinks that I don't listen to my body...hmmmm)

That is how I ended up turning most of my attention, more and more to yoga.

I can't say that I never looked back, because today, I was definitely looking back. I still knew a lot of the coaches and they remembered me and my kids. I think they were glad to see I was still alive. It felt weird to step on the ice and feel so shaky, so unsure. I could still get myself moving, and somehow, spinning feels more balanced now (probably a shift in my center of gravity due to the swap of breast tissue for the more compact saline-filled implants). But I have lost a lot of technique. And most of all, I have lost my sense of devil-may-care recklessness. I can't see myself attempting any sort of a jump. Oh, my mind can envision it. But there is absolutely no transmission of brainwave to body part there. It's like trying to move a paralyzed muscle. All feeling is gone.

Ah well. As KJS said in her blog today, everything changes. As if we need to be reminded...and yet, sometimes we do. Change can be upsetting while it's happening. But usually change turns out to be good. Not because it creates a result we were hoping for, but because as human beings, we are amazingly resilient, and we are capable of changing our expectations to fit our realities. I used to think that was sad ("how can one be happy with LESS than one wanted?" I would lament). Now I think of it as both miraculous and essential to our survival.

When it comes to times of extreme change - death, illness, loss, even winning a lottery, proverbial OR actual - it is good to remind ourselves that throughout all of it the SELF remains the same. If you eliminate the chatter (the chatter that berates ourselves or wishes for things to be different, etc.), what remains is the SELF. And nothing can touch that or change that.

YC