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I went roller skating yesterday. It was quite enjoyable. But, it also got me thinking
about beginnings (since I seem to be in a time-oriented frame of mind). I was
thinking of beginnings because, although I am rather excellent at roller
skating (I think a blog merits a little unreserved bragging, don’t you agree?),
I always have to take a few moments to “get the hang of it” again. Whenever I
go ice skating it takes much longer than a few minutes. So, my point is this:
life is like a pair of roller skates. Whenever we take a break from whatever
people define as reality we have to take a few moments to “get the hang of it.”

Every new beginning in our lives is like putting on our roller skates again for the first
time in a long time. We have to take a few minutes to go slowly in order to
figure out how fast we can go without falling over. Sometimes we are putting on
ice skates instead, and then it takes even longer (at least if you’re me, so
just go with it), and we may not be able to go as fast as we want. It’s
encouraging, though, to know that after a while we will be able to go. How we
go doesn’t matter so much as the fact that we go at all. Around and around in
circles, maybe, but sometimes life just seems to go in circles. Circles can be
comforting (no sharp edges on which to hurt yourself). Soon, roller skating
becomes so natural that we can’t ever imagine not skating. We can’t imagine not
zipping around, dodging people around us and ignoring the bad music played over
the sound system. Soon, the roller skating becomes our lives.

But then the skating session ends (I always have to get back to the endings, don’t I?).
There is one last song (not even one that you like), and then you have to skate
off the rink, roll (sort of) over the florescent carpet, and remove your
skates. Even this part isn’t so bad. Sure, the carpet is stupid, and you almost
broke your neck when you rolled over someone’s old glowstick, but you’re still
skating. When you take off your skates, you still don’t mind because your feet
feel free and alive (yeah, I know it’s weird, but it’s true, yes?). But then
you have to stand up. And once you stand up, you have to walk. It’s been so
long since you have walked. You feel all wobbly and uncertain. Your legs are
restricted to lateral movements. It’s almost frightening. Sometimes, it seems
that is takes even longer to get past the ending that past the beginning.

So, in the roller rink of life, how do we look at things? Are the exciting bits our
beginnings? Are the depressing events the endings? Or is it the other way
around? Do you just hate roller skating?

I’m sorry. I meant to talk about beginnings (really, I did). But, after thinking
about this, I have realized that even though people say “the end is really the
beginning,” that’s not true. In our lateral system of time measurement only one
event may be occurring in one place at one time. An ending and a beginning (or
vice versa) may occur sequentially but never simultaneously. They are separate
of each other and must occur separately for us to grow in our wisdom and
experiences. We have to start with the roller skates before we can end with
them. Then, we have to end our time with the roller skates before we can begin
with them again. We also have to remember that these are the times we are most
likely to fall, but we learn lessons from those falls. Terrifying, yet