This blog is a collection of my thoughts and experiences from ten years as a skate dad. For those of you sitting with your jackets in the bleachers, first I salute you, but second I want to give you an honest sense of what you are in for and what to expect. Ice skating is both a trying and a glorious sport, but it doesn't happen without the special group of folks who cheer, support, and console the participants. This is dedicated to you.


Showing posts with label Soulwork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Soulwork. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

- soul service


After a long hiatus from the rink, I need to get my sea legs back under me as to the equity and clearance flow of the place. I had forgotten about most of it, but I recall it has some of the appropriate sublimates for athlete/artists who are at work. I sense however that the real soul of skating is not about the work, and it's not about the show.

I keep saying over and over and over (until I'm convinced) that skating is only about the soul, and the art and athleticism are primarily support for that soul service. But it's not about self-service either: it's about preparation for carrying the dreams and hopes of spectators... it's about fabricating a source of inspiration.

As usual my tiny little cog in the whole bailiwick is just to pin the center: to be the torque-point and wormhole to allow the artists to project themselves across their service timeliness and to alert the athletes to balance their long term fitness with their immediate training objectives. So I take the very very long view, generally concerned more with continuity.

I suppose that is part and parcel with my attachment to the sport more as a parent than as a participant. Of course I defend my kid by assuring that she takes adequate precautions and gets treated equitably. But because I view the sport as an activity and also have a much longer view of my kid's life, I also have a broader view of what she does in the context of how it helps her grow up in general.

Yet I focus on what is in the best interest of the sport more than any personal gain for my kid. If I had a million dollars (rich uncle? lotto?) to spend specifically earmarked toward ice skating, I would put it toward things that benefit the sport much more quickly than expensive and marginally effective incremental training for my kid.

Skating grace comes from helping people in a small, courteous, non-selfish manner. It comes from putting the comfort of other people above your own. It is not something manufactured through ballet class or artistic posing or muscle training or choreography. Grace is the outward expression of a pure and egoless soul. Those of us in the backstory -- parents and coaches alike -- recognize that, and create a positive space for the skaters to accomplish that service.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

- asceticism

Like any sort of artist a successful skater demonstrates severe focus, and hence possesses a rather strict, ascetic ability to abide by self-denial. In fact the original Greek term for asceticism referred to the physical training required for athletic events. This is a common and simple concept; we bring up most children to understand that deferral of immediate gratification pays off by being able to learn things that can provide greater satisfaction later. Implicit in this is an expectation for a transcendental future reward.

Aspiring skaters absorb this idea socially, mostly by watching other skaters. When a young girl admires a world-class figure skater on TV she senses the immense love and admiration that the skater receives on the podium and during her performance. This goal drives the sacrifices the skater must endure during practice to hone her craft.

As with all artists, the awareness of a future audience provides motivation. Without such motivation self-discipline is meaningless and becomes torture. At the same time however, people have the capacity to deceive themselves into following false surrogate endpoints. Once an artist recognizes that asceticism serves a useful purpose the self-denial may become a goal unto itself. The asceticism can become an addiction for its own sake. Sometimes this works and leads to autogeneration of creativity; sometimes it only leads to self-destructive depression. It does, however, always lead to self-learning.

Like motherhood, daily skating practices involve much silent unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute. People respect and love us for our struggles.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

- the artist


Those inside the sport know this but it's not always apparent outside; I'll post these remarks to the general audience and you skaters can comment your concordances. Figure skating is both a sport and an art, and as such skaters are both athletes and artists. Hence skaters share many of the same characteristics and fight most of the same battles as any other artist (although due to the athletic rigors demanded of them they tend to be "clean" artists, eschewing the mental chemical stimulants of other creatives). Yet the demands of creativity are still the same.

As the medium of a skater's expressiveness is constantly fighting back (and she learns as she goes along) staying focused as an artist requires an extraordinary amount of exertion of will under trying circumstances. There's falls, there's equipment issues, there's meddling competitors. To succeed she must take her art absolutely seriously. A skater must become fully dedicated to her craft as anything less may devolve to become only recreational skating.

Like all artists, a skater thinks a lot about her art even when she is not on the ice; many skaters think about it 24 hours a day, albeit at different levels of consciousness. They live, eat and breathe figure skating. And all of this attention and focus to a single subject tends to isolate a skater from a wide variety of outside activities and also limits her social circle.

A skater tends to put herself into "voluntary solitude;" the intensity of the concentration of her sport demands it. Does a skater's isolation border on self punishment? The ones who keep competing may have a greater capacity for this solitude. Still though as a parent I often had my concerns for my daughter's following an artist lifestyle: the consequence of skating as a serious endeavor invokes a social cost -- by necessity the skater sacrifices common scholastic social entertainment. Does a skater have to overcome this parental bias irregardless?

Since she mostly works alone on her craft the skater is responsible for imposing her own high standards. For the most part she is in charge of her own critiques; a skater is often the only one who really knows what's going on with her own work. Certainly her coach and parents can witness the end results, but the skater faces hundreds of small unseen private battles. Many skaters are filled with self doubt and go through long periods questioning their skills. An artistic vision is therefore necessary to carry a skater through her rough patches.

To a certain extent then rinks are like art colonies (well, after the hockey players have packed their bags). And like any art studio, success comes from making your rink a place where you and your fellow artists want to be creative.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

- distressed parents


One of the moms (with a seven or eight year old skater) lugs her homework to the rink with her to study. She sits in the icebreaker lounge amidst five or six other moms, a couple flirtatious dads, the male ballet coach, and six or seven rambunctious kids playing video games, and she actually... studies.

I don't know how she does it. Somehow between buying a snack for her daughter, chatting up friends, and dealing with the clunks and bings of the video games, she manages to learn something: accounting at the moment, I believe. Partly I'm impressed and partly I'm depressed. I am impressed by her ability to concentrate and her drive to be successful -- her eschewing of fun for work. But I am equally depressed that she would feel so driven as to have to endure the distractions.

I sat down to chat with her one day; she set aside her book on Basic Accounting, smiled, and said Good, I needed a break. She told me that she was from Vietnam, that her father was an American G.I. in the war and her mother was Vietnamese. She never met her dad, and her mom died when she was five. She came to the States as a teen refugee, and had a child while unmarried in high school. She didn't know who her child's father was.

Just your typical skate mom.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

- deeper art


In an earlier post I pointed out how along with being athletes, most figure skaters are also artists. They have heightened senses of perception, aesthetics, and sensitivities. And like any artist they struggle with certain challenges related to their creativity, their vision, and wrestling with the tools of their trade.

Boots and blades can be finicky. The ice is never the same one day to the next, and it's different after a resurface. Your own body goes through different moods and it seems your weight distribution gradually changes. Every time you step on the ice it's another relearning experience.

Since seriously pursuing figure skating takes such an inordinate commitment and persistent concentration, a skater is in touch with her craft most of the time. While on ice the repeated physical acts of practice practice practice and adjusting to current conditions can become zen-like in their small adjustments and introspections. After a warm up and a half hour of freestyle a skater easily sends herself into a semi-hypnotic "zone" much like a musician or a painter.

No doubt a skater establishes a certain meditative peace from concentrating on her art. At the same time however a specific mental framework scaffolds this construction: it's almost as if you have your art brain, and your social brain. Your awareness sinks into your art brain while you work; meanwhile your social brain subconsciously ferrets away its tasks for later.

It's not unusual for others to interpret this non-social artistic anti-focus as ''stubborness." And indeed if you're stubborn enough to be a skater, you're stubborn enough for anything. At the same time this obstinance is more or less a critical trait to withstand the long hours you must invest.

Although there is sometimes the perception that a skater's skills evolve from the careful mentoring of her coach, like all artists a skater works within the confines of her bodily and mechanical tools, perceptive abilities, and creative inner life to manipulate an ever changing fractal reality. Careful nurturing from a coach, a coreographer, and a parent are essential, yes, but nevertheless many times the link between a skater's work and her progress is only apparent to the skater herself.

What happens when I lift my heel this way? What happens when I put this arm here on this spin? It's all experimentation and interpreting reactions.

Naturally often the road is frustrating and progress seems elusive, but periods of plateau and quietude are standard fare for any creative person. A skater must keep working during these fallow times as an artistic refresher; often she makes important discoveries while working on the routine, even in hindsight.

Art is about trying to put together ideas, feelings, and techniques -- skaters can plan work up to a point but must always be open to change. A skater must stay attuned to what is truly their expressiveness in the moment, otherwise they risk entering automatic processes that appear hollow.

Finally no matter who you are very few tangible (monetary) benefits are likely to come from figure skating; there seems to be barely enough funds to even keep the sport going. And sure, money might make things easier for you, but it doesn't really do anything to enhance the art in your skating. As skating riches are not a motivation, your satisfaction has to come from the creative process itself.

Figure skaters are solo artists constantly working in a grouped artisinal environment. Persistence, sensitivity, and originality are what set each of them apart. When you finish your program and feel our applause, deep down you'll know what it is all about: we are applauding for the artist that is you.

Friday, November 2, 2012

- principles


In an earlier post I mentioned how a skater learns to express her personality through the style she exhibits in her moves, her music, and her program. Style is neither a personality trait nor a mood though. Certainly you can have all varieties of moods layered atop all sort of personalities, and you may display (or suppress) this personality to various effect. Yet style somehow mediates this interaction.

How do you establish a style, and how do you develop a reputation of being a stylish skater? Well at its foundation, Style is the outward manifestation of big-C Culture. Sure, you know Culture when you see it -- it doesn't have to be Opera or anything particularly highbrow either (Goth is also a Culture). Not too surprisingly Culture is something that is "cultured" in the sense of being raised with patience, attention, and loving care from its birth as a conceptual meme. It's not something that drops from the sky and lands in your skate bag; you grow into a Culture slowly and with devotional intent.

How do you choose a flavor of Culture? Well at its base Culture is the outward manifestation of big P Principles. If you follow certain Principles of behavior (to either a more strict a more flexible adherence) then you will join the Culture along with the other folks who adhere to those same Principles.

Too abstract and philosophical for skating? Not at all. Principles with a fixed level of adherence drives Culture drives your Style on the ice. What this means dear is that when we watch you skate, we can infer your Principles. There are no sheathed souls in front of an audience.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

- audience rehearsal



While watching the skaters practice I realize that their efforts have aspects of a musician in a band or of a dancer rehearsing. At some point in the future they will be performing these exact moves in front of an audience, but the motion and the music are a front for something else: the spiritual work of entertaining the audience and diverting them from their pain and sorrows.

I suppose we tend to forget -- once we get caught up in the adult rat race for money -- that children are spiritual beings who are highly sensitive to feelings and matters of the soul. The good skaters, like artists, retain this childlike sensitivity. After watching the practice for a while you will see (amongst the artistic skaters) considerably more than just physical practice.

The rehearsal is the link to the on-stage performance: emotions flow back through time from the audience through the performance and then back into the practice. The skaters shatter the ether as they spin and fall to relieve the suffering future.