Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control. To these I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek His grace. And then when this day is done I will place my head on my pillow and rest.” ― Max Lucado
Some very compelling wisdom from Mr. Lucado.
Again.
I just finished a book of his, “Jesus: The God Who Knows Your Name”. Some very compelling stories and wisdom shared in ways never imagined. A stunning perspective that brings clarity to so much. Sorely needed. Genuinely held. Never to be forgotten.
Sometimes, the seedings at these weekend tourneys can be a crap shoot. Literally. So you just have to go with the flow, play the best you can and learn from the experience. Nothing is ever wasted. It all becomes part of who you are.
First game was like that and we were only down 16-11 at half. Things got away from us, but now we have played a team that presses all over. It is more about keeping calm and sticking to your fundamentals at that point.
Second game was more like what we hope for every time we play. Back and forth, some fouls and free throws, solid defensive plays, steals, fast breaks and passing. Notched the win in that contest, and the refs told all it was a great game.
Smiles were abundant.
Still are.
We have about a month of practice before we start the state tournament, with the regional right here at Homestead.
What are you scared to do? And, what are you scared of doing? What is it that you fear to attempt versus what is it that you have done but are fearful of doing again. Seperate avenues of life to share and elucidate.
To be honest, haven’t really given the former much thought. I might be willing to sky dive, but never really held much interest. Since I really do not have a bucket list, there isn’t a spot to put that one on pause. Don’t have the cranial makeup to scale sky scrapers like Alex did a week or so ago in Taiwan.
Swimming in the ocean is amazing. Jumping off a schooner and snorkeling in the middle of an ocean off the Virgin Islands. Taking a sailboard out in the same waters without a clue was a total blast. Cold calling businesses and turning them into associates and customers is fun to this day. Interviews are fun. Giving and receiving. Speaking to crowds? Fulfilling and missed. Jumping off a third floor fire escape into snow during winter break just because? Well, just because we were stupid. “Skitching” over the snow covered streets in Hinsdale as a teen. Deciding to play college football, and then playing every game for four years.
There are others. But I guess when it comes to being scared to or having a fear to, I think the fear of failure holds the cards. A certain level of embarrassment too. What if I blow it? Get lost? Laughed at? Contusions and abrasions? Fractures? They say “no”? Die? Having never done something before, trying and then having it turn out one way or another is one experience. You get to move on.
But then again, being scared of or having a fear of doing contains many of the same risk factors, but from an entirely different depth and direction. The potential damage to one and others extends far beyond band-aid boo boo’s or a walking boot.
I am scared of and have a fear of letting others down. Again.
Of making bad choices. Of acting out of character. Of behaving like I have all of the answers, that I am the Grand High Exalted Mystic Poobah, and that I know what is best for all everytime and all of the time. Of resentment.
Of not understanding my true worth. Of not staying present. Of withdrawing and building a protective fortress along a steep escarpment.
Of allowing others to determine my value, assess my potential and define my capabilities.
Of not ever realizing who I was.
The therapeutic side of the daily prompt is evident this exact moment.
By discerning what I am scared to as it relates to what I am scared of, an epiphany has enjoined my spirit this weekend.
Those things that one is scared of are those that one is scared to discard, move on from and grow in an entirely different manner and direction. Perhaps being possessed by them for so long offers a twisted, unhealthy and known sense of comfort and security. A bizarre sense of peace brought forth in allowing oneself to be held captive by them. Being scared to finally understand and move on was allowed to be overwhelmed by being scared of allowing that change.
To finally grow. To finally understand. To finally forgive. To finally connect. To finally live.
There are those in life that play “farmer” with you.
The one that really wishes for “this” or wants “that”. Something, a favor. Special treatment. So to yield that desired crop, they pant seeds. “Innocent” asides that pop up out of no where. Return again when the season of the moment is favorable. Get watered. Copious amounts of fertilizer, if you know what I mean. Aggregated so as to produce the yield they wish to harvest. And should that happen, your field will not lay fallow. It will be planted again. And again.
But then there is another breed of farmer.
One that also sows seeds, hoping they may take root. But maybe never really knowing if they ever will or when, if they do so. By coincidence, they may come across another who chose to accept it into their garden, tended to it and made something grow out of that all but brief interaction.
Some of the seeds I speak of flow from that loop of grace.
Sowing small acts of care, support and love onto what may be barren landscapes and rocky terrain. Tending to the needs of others in that moment, helping to raise them up, if for only an instant. Bringing some light to a time of darkness. Providing assurance for a gathering storm or respite from a downpour. Not out of a requisite or perceived demand.
But because you get to.
This brand of sowing goes even further. The farmer you are will be seen and heard by eyes and ears not obvious to you. An act of kindness witnessed from a distance, but understood as such may spur that farmer to plant in the same fashion. Even the act of attentiveness and hearing once seen may inspire the giving of similar gifts in others.
Words of kindness, support, understanding, empathy and love ripple outward, connecting your heart and soul to theirs. Seeds that find their way into them, encouraging them to share alike. You can never really know for sure what your affirmation of one will do so to another, impressing upon the the joy to be found in giving those gifts to others. The land you tend is much larger than imagined. Your acts and voice travel to all corners of it.
From a seed and farmer context, this loop can grow into acres and acres of growth and true connection. Not because we have to. Just because we get to. There is no deed associated with this. We were simply given a most wonderful opportunity to farm.
My stoic nature being what it is, one would think by appearance alone, all I do is complain. Perhaps there is an element of truth to that revelation. Take it as you wish, I think this is how I complain.
First, no offense intended by using some of the following statements and inherent descriptions. They pretty much say it like it is about this guy and how I see things.
I am another version of OCD.
Obsessive/cleaning/coordinating/combining/correcting/clarifying/composing/confronting/considering/congratulating/disorder. Maybe I missed a few. Oh, completing. If I think of more, I will circle back. But I digress….
I like things to be in order. Not always mine. Just in order so that we have time to live. In establishing a pattern, things flow, they happen and there are little or no distractions created to take one off their game. So dishes get done, washer filled and unfilled, dirty clothes in laundry room waiting their turn, recyling routine, beds made. You know a sense of order. Not perfection, that ain’t possible. Just intention. So I can bore you all with this prompt today. Aren’t you glad.
So where the complaining comes in is pretty much internal. I live the flow around here, and when I see something that could go better or makes more sense based on how we live, then I just adjust accordingly. Don’t tell them to do it. Just do it myself and let things happen. No one comes home to discover the laundry room now in the living room to improve efficiency and recycling bins in the kitchen. (Yet) Just looking at the big picture and smoothing out rough edges.
Sort of how I coach too.
I understand the objectives, see the big picture and figure out ways to gain growth, improvement, achievement and excellence. Not in a complaining, hen pecking, diminishing and scolding manner. Rather, gaining trust, understand what it is I see in you, let me show you how to get there. Then, just play. Practice is for practice; coaching them up, fine tuning, instilling self discipline, repetition, trust. Games are games. Times to be encouraged, reminded to stick with the fundamentals, stay together and have fun.
Applies to my current vocation as well. Job development for those with diverse abilities is just like coaching football in my estimation. No pads to speak of, except maybe to protect one from beating themselves up. But hey, we all do that, don’t we? Work the fundamentals, practice, observe and let them play. Some of the interviews I have witnessed were way better than a come from behind game on the field.
So, from a strictly definition oriented standpoint, I really do not have anything to complain about.
Not a thing.
Could I be more patient, understanding and listen better? Heck yeah.
Could I smile more than twice a year? Yup.
Stop the internal fussing? Wait, who’s fussing?
Let things be? I will get back to you on that.
In the end, I get to be my OCD self, as currently described above. Live a life around those that get it. And still be loved.
...my temporary assignment. 