Since the day after Thanksgiving, my mind has been a restless mess. It’s garbled up with words, plans, lists and ideas. And, I’m unable to settle anywhere, easily distracted, ungrounded and unfocused. I’ve started writing several blogs which I can’t seem to complete and get out of draft form. They sit “in the corner” to be picked on and prodded occasionally, only to be saved and abandoned again. I’m not sleeping great, between the stuffy head and the to do list dancing around my mind like sugarplums.

It’s Christmas. That most Wonderful time of the year.

I look forward to this time.  I really do. The traditions and celebrations. The lights around town. I love decorating my home and turning the tree on every morning to enjoy as I sip my coffee and prepare for the day.  I enjoy the music and Christmas playlist on my iPhone. But, over the past several years, I’ve noticed a trend toward more stress and less sleep than I recall from my younger days. I’m quicker to escalate and become emotional at this time of year.

Sparkly snow outside my window sets just the right mood. Candles are lit … the tree as well. But still, my mind races and both focusing and relaxing becomes harder.

I’m an organized person. (Okay those of you who know me, you can stop laughing.) I’ll own that, yes, I’m the Type AA organized one. So Christmas should be my time to shine. But I’m frazzled at this time of year as I seek to create the Magic that seems harder to harness than it used to be. The lists that I write don’t calm me like they usually do … nor do the morning meditations and additional time I spend on Bible study and prayerfully focusing on my faith and the reason behind this season.

I forget things. I lose things … well, I misplace them and cannot recall the logical location in which I decided to place them. I wake earlier, the skies still dark. My cat seems to feel the same way. Her normal wake up time parallels mine.

There’s just something in the air that unhooks the tethers of my spirit and I long for something miraculous to take me away from it all … or at least to help me settle me a bit so I can relax.

Strangely, I’ve found something that focuses my mind, my spirit and my heart too.

Several years ago, some friends invited us to join them for a holiday ice-skating outing. In theory, that sounds great, right? Yeah sure. And of course I said yes. But the reality that I hadn’t worn a pair of ice skates since I lived in Valparaiso and went out to Lakewood Park with my dad set in quickly and I was pretty nervous as I stepped out onto the ice.

Amazingly, I didn’t fall. In fact, I made it around the Campus Martius Rink many a time, amidst faster and shorter skaters zipping in and around me. And I couldn’t help but grin the whole time.

At the end of the outing, my ankle rocked a giant and very bloody blister. I’d felt it coming on but was too stubborn — and having too much fun — to stop and get off the ice.

Flash forward a year to another trip to the Campus Martius skating rink and another bloody blister. Admittingly, I have a high tolerance for pain and difficulty ending an activity when it’s bringing me joy — even when it hurts. So, the next Christmas, my family decided it was time to give me a beautiful, sparkly white pair of ladies’ ice skates.

At the beginning of December this year, I decided it was time to get them out and use them. I was looking for something different to do on my day off. And there is a nearby indoor rink with hours set-aside for public skating. I figured on a weekday there would be fewer skaters to navigate around, giving me time to practice and get my rhythm. So, I grabbed my skates and set out for the rink.

When I walked into the arena, there was no one else there. I mean … No one on the ice. I was completely alone. The only sound was the drone of the generator. Stunned at the silence, I put on my skates and headed for the entrance.

Okay, honesty here … every time I step out on the ice, I feel a stab of fear. Fear that I’ll fall. Fear that I’ll get hurt. Fear that I can’t do this. Fear that I can’t handle this. It’s an almost debilitating instinctual response that almost stops me.

The key is … almost. So, I stepped out on the ice and began, tentatively, to skate around the rink. Now, when I skate, I have to focus completely. One step, glide … next step, glide. Just me and the crisp sound of my blades cutting through the crystal sheen beneath me. I can’t even listen to music. I just skate. I don’t stay too long, about 45 minutes or so. And it’s transforming.

When skating, I cannot make a list or plan or worry or think about anything but skating. I breathe and focus on the step and glide only. I am completely present in the current moment. Not thinking about the past or any drama, not worrying about getting things done or what lies ahead. When I skate, there is no restlessness and no distraction. I find 45 minutes of peace.

On the ice, my mind is quiet. I can’t stay long. It’s a big rink and my legs get tired. But each week this December, I met my fear head on and stepped out on the ice, rewarded with a quiet mind as well as a feeling of accomplishment. It’s beautiful on the ice. I’m not trying to be Dorothy Hamill … just enjoying the ice time.

What do you need to focus your spirit? A long walk? A yoga class? A cup of coffee amidst a busy Starbucks? Quiet? Sound? People? Solitude? Activity? Knitting needles and yarn? Painting? Redecorating a room? A jog on a starry evening? Music? Whatever it is, take time for it. Find your peace your way …

Maybe I’ll see you on the ice …

— Jenni