I wish I could roller-skate.
“How cool would it be,” my fourteen-year old self thought, “to simply glide over the maple hardwood like a swan on wheels. Glorious. Simply glorious.”
Of course, I also presumed I would be naturally talented at it. After all, as a child, I was the greatest sock-skater our kitchen floor had surely ever seen. Pulling on my Cookie Monster ankle socks, I would swerve and slide across the linoleum with the grace and poise of an Olympic figure skater.
As a teenager, I attended a variety of parties and events at the Tri-County Roll Arena. Smudgy tables holding rumpled socks and half-eaten nachos rose from the stained fluorescent carpeting. Kids gathered around, sucking cheap candy and slapping on Silly Bandz bracelets. Disco lights flashing and ‘80s music blaring, the roller-skating rink would be packed with cool kids in sunglasses and neon pairs of rollerblades, zooming around like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Unless you happen to actually be talented at roller skating, you will doubtless spend the first half hour of every session being a wall-hugger, slowly pulling yourself along the perimeter at a rate that would make a tortoise sigh. Eventually, summoning a cautious dose of confidence, you will then attempt to zombie your way around the rink, every push-off of the skates you wobble and teeter. Then, if you have managed to master this, you will grow weary of being constantly passed by the professionals, and progress into skating at a slow walking speed. No need to be embarrassed at this stage; half the people who cannot skate have reduced their footwear to their socks at this point.
Anyways, all is going well for a bit. Unfortunately, it cannot last. At approximately 1 mph, I tend to fall. Luckily, I tend to fall on my face to the enjoyment of half the rink.
At one party, my good friend, who is excellent at all things wheels, kindly offered to assist me skate one lap of the ring. By this, I mean, she skated, and I held on. Tightly.
"See, you got this. Now … I'll just let go—"
"No, Julie, please don't let go!" I clung. She gently plied my sweaty fingers off her hoodie. Immediately, there was a great crumpling and minor demolition of small children.
I went into a scuffling tailspin and landed most ungracefully on my back with my feet in the air, while the wheels on my skates still spun frantically. As a result, I amassed a small crowd and a melting collection of ice bags for my tailbone. The public does love a spectacle.
A friend's mother, who was de-junking her home soon after, gave me her old skates from way back. They were shiny red with scuffed wheels and fraying laces. Their box from JC Penney's had Snoopy on the front and mushroom stickers with her maiden name and address on it. I loved them well. They were excellent skates, but they did not make me an excellent skater, no matter how many bruises I put into practicing. To this day, I barely make a lap on roller skates without tripping. I am simply not a good skater.
I think most things are mostly within most people's reach. I did not have a natural talent for roller-skating. But if I still had a strong desire to roller-skate, I am sure if I put sufficient time, effort, and instruction into it, I could skate well. The only trouble is that roller-skating isn't really my wish anymore. I have other desires now. Adulthood does that to you. Still, it is lovely to always be trying new things, always exploring, always fumbling at something different. Only domesticated spirits do not delight in dabbling. Dreams are fantastic; fantasies are oases. Both are not set in stone. Who God would have you to be has already been fashioned. How you interpret that within His way is up to you. Dreams can change.
In summary, it is no longer my wish to pour much time into learning to roller-skate. There are other things I pursue now. That is perfectly fine. God has not condemned me to being one person forevermore. It is no distasteful thing to prune your life, clipping off what is no longer wanted or needed. It is a glory to see things through to perfection. It is also no shame to let some dreams go. However, if there is anyone out there who is both a miracle-worker and a roller-skating coach, I would be very grateful.