Archives For November 30, 1999

I have wanted to write this post for awhile now. I started tossing around ideas awhile back about how to properly articulate what I think about life and the direction it takes us sometimes.

When a child begins to grow and discover their own personal potential, their innate strengths need not be defined. People can naturally see and appreciate them. They come easily and the child feels a sense of happiness anytime they are given the chance to share them with others.

Strengths are as unique to the child as the color of their hair or the tone of their voice. They help form their identity –  their own little island.

As we grow, the sea of possibilities surrounding our own personal islands is endless.

One’s course may start off smoothly, but rougher waters are inevitable. I firmly believe the farther you drift from your own personal identity or island, the more treacherous travel you will likely face and the greater risk you run of feeling lost.

We grab onto life preservers (power, possessions, influence, relationships) to make us feel invincible or to simply stay the course. We set ourselves up to believe we are only measured by how hard we crash into waves and by how great of a distance we travel.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the journey that we forget to look back at our own island. We realize that while life preservers may help move us forward, they don’t guarantee happiness.

My island is not crowded. It is not noisy nor stressful. On it are housed three or four things that come naturally to me and make me feel happy. I refuse to lose sight of them no matter where life takes me.

Have you thought lately about what makes up your island?

In the blurry days of summer, when light takes hold of dark

When kids grow faster than flowers, and memories make their mark

When you spend time treading water to keep your head afloat

And reflect on putting pen to paper or making mental note

The older you get the more you sit and watch your days unfold

It’s the same story from parent to child no greater truth will ever be told

You yearn to rewind and freeze time but know you never will

For humankind is simply powerless at making life stand still

Far too often we fail to recognize when all is good and right

When troubles are fairly minimal and we sleep peacefully at night

Our perceived hardships are quite trivial in the grand scheme of things

Surrounded by those who love us, true contentment family brings

Moments are like bubbles of time floating carelessly in the breeze

Both beautiful and fragile they move on as they please

You try relentlessly to catch them knowing in your heart you never will

For humankind is simply powerless at making life stand still

Bragging and baseball

April 5, 2012

I conquered my first unassisted pull-up earlier this week. It was one of the goals I set for myself about a month ago.

Boo ya.

Today I did a couple more just to prove the first one wasn’t a fluke. Now I can casually say with confidence, “Who me? Yeah, I can totally do a pull-up.” It doesn’t seem like the hugest deal in the world, I know. But, it is big for me.

It felt fantastic to hoist my chin up over that bar for the first time with no help.

Even more rewarding than achieving my own success was watching my two boys start baseball season. My 8-year old is just getting his feet wet in somewhat competitive ball. Prior to this year, the only pitching he faced was dished up by his coach.

Now he’s facing boys his own age hurling strikes at him faster than he can blink an eye.

I've told my 8-year old the chances of him actually making contact with the ball will increase as soon as he stops watching his dad snap pictures of him through the fence.

My 10-year old has a couple of competitive seasons under his belt and he is really starting to come into his own. Tonight he allowed only one run while on the mound and hit back-to-back triples. I told him to bask in the glory while it lasted because you can be on top of the world one day, and cause an error to let your team down the next.

That is what I love about the game of baseball and why I miss playing fast pitch softball. Each pitch and swing of the bat is so meticulously planned and the really good players make it all look so effortless.

For those who have never played or coached the game, these sports can seem incredibly slow and dull. However, there is so much strategy and heart that goes into every inning. My son was able to feel on top of the world earlier this evening because 11 of his buddies backed him up, knocked down balls, hustled their hardest, and rallied from behind to pull off a win. The camaraderie experienced on the ball diamond is like nothing else I’ve experienced in life.

When else in sports are you willing to put yourself at risk of getting drilled by a hard non-inflated object on both offense and defense in an all-out effort to help your team succeed? I’m not saying it’s the hardest sport in the world (after all, I’ve never played football, hockey, or fought in a cage), but I would argue that hitting a moving baseball IS one of the hardest skills in sports.

Baseball is a game of child’s play. No matter how old the athlete, when downpour and lightning cause rain delays, you are bound to see a ball player sliding across the tarp-covered field. Cheeks are both smeared with eye black and stuffed to capacity with sunflower seeds. Kids show up in flocks for the chance to catch a coveted fly ball. And moms can barely contain their excitement and pride from tee ball through the major leagues.

I’ll be enjoying America’s past-time this summer and I hope you enjoy the warmer months too.

And it's ONE, TWO, THREE kids we're off to the ol' ball game!

My 10-year old south paw pitching.

My 3-year old occupying herself during the game. Disclaimer: The boys were between innings. I yanked her off the fence the moment a batter approached the plate.