The Skating Rink that is YOU

You know who you are. πŸ™‚

A week ago, we were talking about me posting about inanimate objects. And I was exploring the possibility of animating the skating rink. I thought it was another self-portrait. But today, I realized that I am not the skating rink. You are, although I can be a skating rink sometimes.

I am just the ice princess playing on the skating rink that is you, covering up whatever space I am allowed to take. I don’t have all of you, but I have a special spot where I skid around and just be myself for as long as you allow me to practice in my poor beginner’s skates.

This is me patching you up and reminding you of who you are, reversing the lies that bind.


Vastness. That’s me. I seem to have everything with my wideness but I can never have everything; I only have a lot. People bask in my facade of blue. I am the warmest ice skating rink in the entire planet Earth. Some people may find me lofty or hard to reach. But one step at the sides, and you will easily find even beginner skaters being welcomed into the center. I guide. I have railings. I give skating shoes to those who need them. I make sure everything is safe.

It matters little where you come from or what your skill level is. I open up myself, the skating rink that I am. I make Olympians out of even the small child that comes to me. I just cannot bear to refuse help especially when I had been helped in the past so greatly. I started out humbly. I was just a piece of ice in an old dilapidated refrigerator. Slowly but steadily, I got introduced to the world, and I found endless possibilities for myself. I found that a small ice can actually become an ice skating rink.

From afar, I seem lofty, dangerous and hard to reach. But I have railings on all walls of my life’s fences. The fences are made of thin glass; I barely have the walls erected because I like to welcome everybody under my wing. And it’s as transparent as can be. Some people find it hard to believe that such trust remains unmarred and untarnished by time. But I have learned that ice is never attractive or useful if it is dirty or filled with scum. It is always best to be as transparent as possible in everything and in anything.

I make sure that everyone that comes inside feels safe and welcome. Ironic, but I am the warmest skating rink on the planet earth. Hard as I try, I cannot harbor any sad feelings. In the skating rink, everything is cool, dandy and happy. And people come and go whenever they please.

There are hard hammers thrown my way because some people hate skating and think I am a retard for promoting my life’s deepest passions. But that’s fine. Sometimes they come to the point where they hurl their porcupine-rough surfaces and rub it in my face at a time that I least expect. I was not born to make everybody understand my raison d’etre. I just know what I am doing and I consistently plug that in everything I do.

I find it hard to imagine that there are far embittered people who hate skating, who are not open to my ideas and who are displeased at my success.

But every person on earth has his own set of prejudices. I may be the one made of ice and vapor, but I have seen, felt and heard far colder hearts, narrower minds and smokier intentions when it comes to people who are deliberately out to steal, kill, malign and destroy.

And I there are instances that I get scraped without having any means to defend myself. Because they often attack in the dark, perhaps afraid to let themselves be revealed to an army of skaters who can and will crush them to a pulp.

Sometimes I feel sad because of the injustice.

But I continue to press on towards my purpose. Because I know that part of getting all the rewarding relationships is the running the risk of getting hurt and attacked the most. I can choose to selfishly close myself in and let no one in. But that’s not the way to live a life, especially a life that has been blessed with such vastness and warmth.

Play time is over and all the guests have left; a humble ice princess stays on, picks up the littlest pieces of ice, those that got misplaced from the hard scrapes of those cold-hearted fellows. And she carefully cradled that piece, not making it melt.

She tries to put me back together with whatever little effort her little hands can come up with. She had fallen so many times, broke her heart often and knew how to hold things in a way that the pieces won’t melt or break.

She tries to reverse the scrapes of the cold-hearted and sings to me the song of my life in case I have forgotten. She patches up my wounds with words. She gave back warmth for warmth. And I know that for people like these, I can readily oppose and ignore the flaming poisonous arrows of words, the handiwork of the coldest hearts, and the harshest blows that life can bring.

Because there are people who believe. There are people who like to dance their lives with me. And the magic of life lives on for them and for me, even when others are blinded by their own set of beliefs.

Let us skate on. The magic lives on. Everything is still worth it. Tomorrow is a brand new day. A brand new day for skating and a brand new day for polishing the shiny ice that is me, the accomplished and loved skating rink that I am.


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