The Sweet Spot

I had an amazing experience on the ice last Monday. I took an hour lesson with my coach, Jill, rather than my normal 30 minutes. So we had a lot of time to work on things.

Towards the end of my lesson, we were working on spins. I have two problems with spins: I don't enter the spin on the ball of my skating foot, and I don't pull up with my skating leg. These two problems make me fall out of my spin after a rotation or two.

To help me find the sweet spot on my blade, Jill had me move my skates back and forth until I didn't feel the ice under the blade. At the same time, she told me to stand up very tall, pulling up through the leg.

So here I am, moving my skates back and forth, back and forth, and pulling up through my quads. I felt like I had perfect balance. I felt comfortable on the ice, not afraid of falling as I usually feel. It was an amazing feeling.

How I can apply this finding to the rest of my life? Is there something I need to alter--maybe  just slightly--so I can feel more comfortable?

A subtle shift

When I was skating yesterday morning, practicing left outside 3-turns, I realized that my heart wasn't in my throat the entire time. I *almost* felt comfortable doing the move. This realization came upon me pretty quickly and I marveled at my new understanding as I completed the move down the ice. Suddenly something that always made me feel uncomfortable and out of control felt--well, almost normal. My timing, fluidity across the ice, and being changed in that instant.

So almost 10 years of practice does have an impact on outcome!  

How many other situations do we neglect practice, knowing that it can make more perfect? I can see many instances in my life where a subtle shift--of perspective, of understanding, of tolerance, of mindset--can change everything, including me.

Note to self: Look for the shift.

The best turn

Those two swoops represent one of the best turns I took. About 11 years ago, on a bright, sunny, cold December day, I went downtown to an outside ice rink in Washington Square Park. I hadn't been skating in many years, and I don't know what lead me there that day. However, that afternoon led me to some of the most glorious times I've ever had.

I'm a skater. No, not a good one, but a passionate one. Eleven years after buying my skates (I'm on my third pair, the last pair was custom), finding a club, a coach, and a rink (maybe not in that order), I skate whenever I can. I try to learn new skills and work constantly to improve those that I have.

When I skate, everything else stops. I don't think about work, or that client, or the deliverable that was late (again), or any thing other than completing that turn--without falling, with my weight over my skating foot, and my posture upright.

Above are the marks of a 3-turn, named because the marks look like the number 3. To me, they represent freedom, passion, dedication, commitment, joy, frustration, my life.

The first turn

Just as I was thinking about shutting down my computer and leaving work early, my friend, C, called. I hadn't spoken to her in a month or two, as she had been on a trip that took her halfway around the world. I was simply busy at work and hadn't replied to her now 2-week old email. C was calling to invite my husband and me to dinner that evening. We already had plans, but C and I decided to meet for coffee instead. Now. So I left work a little early and had a delightful hour with C before going on my way and continuing with my all-too-planned life.

And that's what this blog is going to be about--those small moments in life when you take a different path, take a turn, stop and do something different, or just STOP, and in doing so, gain a new experience and enrich your life.

When did you last turn from your path? And what did you learn?