I went to an underground dodgeball game the other night. Having grown used to open skies, soft grass, even softer nerf balls, six to eleven players on each side, and the pretty casual feel of it all, I was not prepared for the super caffeinated, Road Warrior experience of night time underground dodgeball. Concrete everywhere, lots of noise, florescent lights, thirty plus players on each side, dozens of hard rubber balls flying back and forth at potentially damage causing speeds. For a full hour and a half. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.
My life, lately, has felt like that. Nonstop hard rubber balls coming at me from all sides. An almost steady barrage of one thing after another. Look away for a second and---THWAT! A few times I just walked right into it, like some dumb, wide eyed baby, not realizing I might get hurt. Other times I realized I'd been hearing warning whispers for weeks, "Look out for that fast ball that will come at you from the right, Cheryl! Here's a cough just like you know when to remind you to keep your damn eyes open!" Other times I saw the ball coming, nice and slow, giving me time to think, ok, hmm, what am I going to do here? Step out of the way or try to catch this one?
I admit I was tempted to turn back after sizing up the situation in that underground car park. I wondered if I should have stayed home, saved myself the gas. Choosing safety and comfort over...what? Who knows how every decision to stay and join the game might affect the rest of my day, my week, my life? I wanted to find out. Even if I might get hurt again...
Besides, it's not in my nature to stay home. A friend, in college, once told me I tended to carefully deliberate over things...only to impulsively go ahead and do what I want anyway.
True. I look at a situation, try to predict all the possibilities, what I might do in each...and then I step into the game and generally surprise myself each and every time. Life surprises me each and every time. Hopefully, I have grown wiser and better at self protection since my college days. Though I don't think I have grown any better at predicting what I will do. But I have definitely grown more resilient in any case. I play, I fall, I cry, I heal, I get up and join in again. Then I stumble, I dust myself off, I go play some more. I rest a bit, gathering my bearings, then I dive back in.
Just this last week, for example, a few hard ones have hit me squarely and most painfully on the face. 1. The death of my beloved laptop, taking two month's worth of writing, and all my art programs, with it. And 2. a very bad, very demoralizing job interview, precious hours I will never see again --- for a job I didn't even want, no less. But, at that moment, could not afford to turn down either. Even dance therapy wasn't enough to make me feel better afterwards.
But some wonderful things have happened, too. Things I could never have predicted, reminding me how every moment is filled with potential, how I am never alone, never without support, and my life is as joyful as I allow it to be.
And today is a new day. Old friends and new are inviting me to come out and play. Tonight...some kickball. Or will I end up playing underground dodgeball again? I'm not sure yet. Then, tomorrow, dancing. And Saturday and Sunday, maybe some kickball again. Or who knows what? Can't wait to find out.
I admit I was tempted to turn back after sizing up the situation in that underground car park. I wondered if I should have stayed home, saved myself the gas. Choosing safety and comfort over...what? Who knows how every decision to stay and join the game might affect the rest of my day, my week, my life? I wanted to find out. Even if I might get hurt again...
Besides, it's not in my nature to stay home. A friend, in college, once told me I tended to carefully deliberate over things...only to impulsively go ahead and do what I want anyway.
True. I look at a situation, try to predict all the possibilities, what I might do in each...and then I step into the game and generally surprise myself each and every time. Life surprises me each and every time. Hopefully, I have grown wiser and better at self protection since my college days. Though I don't think I have grown any better at predicting what I will do. But I have definitely grown more resilient in any case. I play, I fall, I cry, I heal, I get up and join in again. Then I stumble, I dust myself off, I go play some more. I rest a bit, gathering my bearings, then I dive back in.
Just this last week, for example, a few hard ones have hit me squarely and most painfully on the face. 1. The death of my beloved laptop, taking two month's worth of writing, and all my art programs, with it. And 2. a very bad, very demoralizing job interview, precious hours I will never see again --- for a job I didn't even want, no less. But, at that moment, could not afford to turn down either. Even dance therapy wasn't enough to make me feel better afterwards.
But some wonderful things have happened, too. Things I could never have predicted, reminding me how every moment is filled with potential, how I am never alone, never without support, and my life is as joyful as I allow it to be.
And today is a new day. Old friends and new are inviting me to come out and play. Tonight...some kickball. Or will I end up playing underground dodgeball again? I'm not sure yet. Then, tomorrow, dancing. And Saturday and Sunday, maybe some kickball again. Or who knows what? Can't wait to find out.
