That's How I Roll
What brings you joy?
Do more of that.
Oh, if it were only that easy!
In a society that thrives off responsibilities, obligations, busyness, rising above challenges and striving for success, I find myself too often chasing the dream rather than living it. Similarly in life it’s difficult to take enough time to process emotions fully because expectations are strong to push through and handle all the important things.
After much loss in life I continue to process the grief of becoming a young widow, selling our businesses and moving from my home of 17 years. This turbulent turnover eventually led toward a new career in yoga therapy and falling in love again. So I moved to Denver in the middle of the pandemic and left the abundant, close community and connection to nature in Eagle, CO.
Even with the goodness of new life and love surrounding me, my joy fizzled after moving and I felt stifled from the buzz of city streets. Joy was sparse like barren trees losing golden, auburn autumn leaves. My vitality needed some fuel and I craved some fun in the sun to reignite what felt lost.
The mountain trails in the Vail Valley have always been sacred, my hOMe away from home. Biking, hiking, running and summit chasing filled my cup daily. Now frolicking in the mountains for fun is more of a treat rather than daily gift because they are no longer out my backdoor.
Where would I find joy in the city? Yoga teaches to find joy and bliss within so my practice is a surely a source. Yet there is still a calling to the outdoors and a need to be fulfilled. I may not have mountains at my fingertips but I do have small but mighty and beautiful Sloan’s Lake. I am grateful each day I look down our street and see the sun rising and setting over the water. It is a special place to recreate rather than pounding pavement on square city blocks.
While running around the lake with my pup (which does bring me joy when I’m not struggling!), I began to notice that cool kids skate the lake. I felt fluttering in my heart and knew it was time for a blast from my past. Thirty years since I skated last, surely it was like riding a bike, right?!
Rollerskating Relationship
The roller rink in Roswell, GA was the place to be for kids on a Friday night. My memory makes me believe I was flying on skates and blades at a pretty young age. Lights, music, friends, birthday parties, the hokey pokey and a slick rink with padded walls, it’s no wonder I never really learned how to stop!
Thirty years later I tried to pick it back up like no time had passed, yet it clearly had! For my 40th birthday, also during the pandemic, I bought some blades. I thought I could cruise off quick, yet I was wobbly simply standing on them. I wasn’t so sure I was ready to bust my bum or risk my wrists for this sport yet! Skating was supposed to bring joy not fear after all.
So I set ego aside and tried old school regular roller-skates. It didn’t take long to find a pair that made me smile at first sight. Skating on these dream machines means smiles for miles! I even grin when I see my rainbow skates sitting pretty at hOMe under the disco ball as though saying, “Need some joy? I’m here for ya!”
Skating the lake has slowly but surely become a rolling ritual. I walk down the street in my sparkly slides because I haven’t quite mastered the hill on wheels. I hide my slides, lace my skates, turn up the tunes, put on pads and roll right out.
Freeeeedom on wheels!
I’m always wobbly turning onto the track, dancing my way around gravel and cracks. By middle of the first lap I tend to find my groove.
Go with the Flow
Finding flow comes and goes both on skates and in life. When I’m the flow, I am mindfully moving, passing people and pets, swerving, weaving, adapting to whatever the present moment presents. I feel joy and a lightness of being with breeze through my hair and the variable ground hovering below.
However, roller-skating is different outdoors without the smooth, slick surface and padded walls. Instead there are added obstacles and literal bumps in the road.
I tend to equate outdoor skating to mountain biking and indoor skating to road biking. Choose your own adventure! The amount of things outdoor polluting my path is endless…tiny twigs, sprinkler puddles, fresh cut grass, geese poop nuggets, gravel, rocks. Combine with weaving around walkers, runners, strollers, scooters, skateboarders, fellow skaters, dogs, electric wheelchairs. It’s a jungle out there! Definitely different than getting lost in the woods and also metaphorically similar :) This bumpy path is also indicative of challenges sprinkled through life, always providing change to learn grow and adapt.
I used to feel a twinge even time my smooth groove was disrupted.
It was like the 80’s song by Matthew Wilder…
“Ain’t nothin’ gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down, no, no, I gotta keep on mov-ing…”
Now I see the variability as moments of mindfulness that keep me fully present since I never know what bump in the road awaits
.
Practice not Perfect
A mantra I use in yoga is “wobbles are welcome” and I hold it close every time I skate.
Through practice I’ve noticed I naturally feel more stable over time. I also can’t help but compare myself to others who make it look so gracefully easy while I’m rocking my elbow pads and wrist guards. Skate dancers grooving along to songs, rollerbladers being pulled by their dogs and even a mom cruising along with a baby in her backpack! Way to go mama! She clearly didn’t have a nagging monkey mind making her doubt her skills like me. Or perhaps she was simply well practiced and I am simply a 41-year old woman with a lot to learn! However, comparison is the quickest way to steal joy so I focus on staying present with my own experience. Just me and my wheels, outdoors with the view of a still lake and the city and mountains as a backdrop.
Smiles for Miles
My main goal while skating: Just keep smiling!
For me a genuine grin is a sure sign of flow and joy. When I catch myself not smiling, I’m usually lost in thought, worried about what others think and not present on the path before me. So I pause, find a new tune, reset my stability and move back to fluidity. More moments of mindfulness.
I have learned that it truly takes practice to be present. Finding the flow is the sweet spot. These precious moments are free of criticism…just me, basking in the moment of all that feels good. Just me in touch with my soul, the space of joy and bliss. My skate dates around the lake have become my sacred space to practice yoga and mindfulness off the mat while reflecting, learning and growing. When I lace up it’s as though I’m inviting my inner child out to play and I’m open to whatever comes my way.
The Only Constant is Change
Now another transition awaits as I watch the warm sunny summer days slip away and the colorful, crunchy leaves delicately sprinkle my path while skating. I can’t help but feel a slight saddening of spirt. Stubbornly, it seems that it’s through the loss of something I finally find such gratitude for it. Slowing down to reflect enables me to see how meaningful these dates on skates are in my city life. I can still skate this winter, although the temperature and obstacles will change and I will reluctantly and eventually adapt. The only constant is change and with each transition I consciously choose joy because it’s vital for my soul.
Next up Hip Hop indoors when there’s a blanket of snow and it’s frigid outside!
Once again, what brings you joy?
Do more of that…Really, our souls and vitality need it!
Then spread the joy, it’s contagious :)
