I’ve been at a point where I just can’t find my passion. Life gets busy, routines take over, and the things that once lit me up feel distant. But sometimes, all it takes is one small step — one glide, one turn, one moment — to remember what makes your heart come alive again.
Rebuilding My Passion for Skating — For Billy 🕊️
There was a time when the sound of wheels on a wooden rink floor was the rhythm of my heart. I was ten when I first learned to skate, twelve when I hit the rink like I owned it. The lights, the laughter, the music — it all felt like freedom.
And through it all, there was Billy.
We grew up skating side by side — every spin, every laugh, every race around that rink was a memory in motion. Billy had that fearless glide, the kind that made you believe flying was possible on four wheels.
Life moved fast, and somewhere between growing up and getting busy, I stopped lacing up. The music faded, but the memories never did.
Now, at 44, I feel that pull again — not just from the past, but from him.
Billy’s spirit is still out there on the floor with me — I can feel it every time I think about skating again.
So I’m starting small. Just me, a clean empty parking lot, and a pair of outdoor skates. Smooth pavement, open space, no crowd — just rhythm and remembrance.
Maybe I’ll hit Hermosa Beach next — let the ocean breeze carry the music. Because this isn’t about being perfect again… it’s about being present.
After years away from the rink, I laced up again—not just to skate, but to remember who I was before life got loud. Skating was me and Billy’s escape, our rhythm, our therapy. Now, decades later, I’m learning all over again. Not to compete, but to reconnect—with my joy, my balance, and the spirit of my best friend who skated beside me through every song.
Each push forward is a promise — to myself and to Billy —
that the joy we found never really left.
This time, I’m not skating to impress anyone.
I’m skating to reconnect.
To heal.
To feel free again.
For me.
For Billy.
For the love of the glide. 🛼💫