I forgot about Daylight savings time today. I'm normally an early riser, regardless of what time I went to bed. This morning I awoke late and was impressed I'd managed to sleep in -- except Daylight savings stole one of my hours!

Be thankful for small mercies. I did get an extra hour in there!

Looking outside at the snow falling, I think I may just go back to bed and cuddle up for some extra zzzz's.

Last night I went to watch C.C's team play hockey. He coaches PeeWee's -- 12 and 13 year old boys who are starting to come into their prime as players. As I watched the kids skate onto the ice I was impressed by their prowess, by the silky movements of their bodies gliding across the ice. There was such grace, such fluidness in their movements.

Throughout the game, they skated backwards, forwards, in circles. Edges sharpened, they'd grind to a sudden stop, quickly change direction, their sticks constantly in front of them, searching for a chance to grab the puck from their opponent. They kept their eyes alert, their heads up as they raced back and forth in a constant dance spread out across the ice searching for the right moment to score a goal.

Poet, Alice Abrams wrote, “In life as in dance: Grace glides on blistered feet”.

For those kids skating last night, it has taken a lot to get to where they are able to effortlessly move across the ice. It's taken practice, practice, practice, drill after drill, repetitions and repetitions of moves and shots and plays. It's taken a lot of falls. It's taken a tone of hard work.

Do you remember the first time you learned to skate? I loved it from the get-go. I loved the feeling of being free, of being able to move with such speed across a frozen sheet of water. The feeling of the wind against my face, the air parting as I slid through it. I loved jumping, spinning, leaping.

I was never an expert skater, but had enough confidence in my body to respond to my demands, to be able to manage mild figure-skating maneuvers without falling down too often.

But I did fall, especially in the beginning. In skating, falling is acceptable. It's the only way to learn. It's part of the game.

In life, falling, like blisters, are part of the process of learning to move with grace and dexterity through the air.

Today, I'm celebrating my blisters. They are a sign that I have worked hard, played hard and given it my all.

The question is: What about you? Do your blisters hold you back from stepping forward? Do they keep you on the bench, sitting on the sidelines watching life skate by?