Playing Nice? Start Playing Real

So, this may come as a bit of a shocker to some of you, but I actually play baseball on a co-ed, two-pitch team.  Purely recreational, and essentially just for fun (although there are a few people on our team who are clearly more competitive than others, admittedly).  Overall, I have a really good time when we play.  A couple of years ago, a few of us got together and decided to create a team for this league, mostly as a way to increase our physical activity and to just hang out once a week.  The understanding was “it’s just for fun” — and frankly, this is a philosophy that I can totally get behind.

Do I like to win?  ABSOLUTELY!  And, it’s not my primary focus.  My objective each and every game is to go out there, play the best I can, have some fun and challenge myself, while hanging out with people I like.  So far, every year we’ve managed as  a team to have a reasonably good time, even as we finish near the bottom of the rankings.  We’ve also watched ourselves improve, collectively and individually, as time’s gone on.  You know, going from 2 runs in a season to several runs in a game is a good thing, I think.  Heck, we’ve even won a couple of games from time to time.

Now, here’s one of the challenges we’ve run into this year.  For some reason, this year we’ve suffered from what I want to call “perceived lack of commitment”.  One of the rules for the league is that there must be 4 women on the field at all times.  You cannot play with any less than 4 women.  For the last few weeks, we go to the field every week wondering if we’ll have enough women to play.  Why?  Well, a couple of women who were originally part of our team for the last couple of years decided not to play this year.  Takes us down to 5.  Then, every week, soemthing has come up — always absolutely legitimate, I must confess — that puts us another woman or two down.  Last night was no exception.  Got to the field, only to realize that we only had 3 women playing, one of whom was planning to leave after the first game, which meant we’d have to forfeit both games.  Wanna know how I felt?  Totally pissed.  I’m being honest here, I was irked that I had arrived at yet another game, after wolfing down dinner, not sure whether we’d be playing or not.

Now while I could expound about commitment and related issues, I’m not going there.  Why?  Because that’s not what this entry’s about.  What this is about, is the communication — or lack thereof — that I noticed in the aftermath of discovering that we didn’t have enough women to play.  I felt totally put out, as aforesaid.  But did I say it?  No.  Why not?  Because I knew that the women who weren’t playing had legitimate reasons and I didn’t want them to misinterpret my frustration as a slam against them.  The cost?  I wasn’t being real and authentic. So my stomach went into knots.

You see, here’s the thing:  when you’re in relationship with others you can “play nice” — indeed it’s what we’re taught to do from a very young age.  The challenge is that we as human beings often interpret “playing nice” as limited to “say only nice things” — don’t convey anger, don’t convey frustration — it’s as though “playing nice” really means “play superficial”.  What I am coming to realize is that playing nice is really about “playing real”.  It’s about including, in a really genuine, authentic way, the whole enchilada.  So last night, I believe it would have behooved me to articulate my frustration.  I didn’t need to negate the choices of others, or judge them in any way:  instead, playing real would have meant me being authentic, saying what I needed to say, and then moving on.

Bottom-line: playing nice only serves when you’re also playing real.  Playing nice, when it’s in any way inauthentic, or only part of the picture doesn’t work.  So, from now on, my objective is going to be to play real — I think it’ll be a stretch when I’m afraid of being judged — and I’m going to challenge myself to stretch.  I’ve simply got to believe that the people I hang around with absolutely can handle me telling my truth.  (And, I can totally play real in a nice way, regardless of what my truth is).

One Little Step

Over the course of the last few days, I’ve been in a space of “idea-generation”.  It’s a fabulous, energizing place to hang out, especially once the ideas start flowing.  The only problem, in my particular case, is that the ideas seem to be coming at me non-stop.  Not only is it hard to keep track, I’ve actually gotten to the point of feeling a little stuck.  I mean, there are a myriad of new ideas that I’ve generated; how do I know which ones to implement, which ones to ditch — essentially where the heck do I start?

As I’ve been in the midst of this quandry, I came across a bit of wisdom on twitter (gotta love social media).  Essentially, the phrasing said something to the effect of “whenever you’re feeling stuck, take the next small step.”  Which struck me as powerfully simple and brilliant all at the same time.  Because when you take a step, regardless of how small, you effectively get yourself “unstuck”.  And one little step can lead to another step, and onward and onward.

I’ll bet you can relate to what I’m referring to here.  I’m sure you yourself have had moments of feeling stuck and unsure of what to do.  Heck, you’ll probably have many more of those such moments in the future as well.  What I’ve learned in the past few days is that “one little step” is all that’s required to begin propelling you forward.

I know, it can be challenging to take that step.  Another phrase I read (this time in an amazingly inspiring book called “Hannah’s Gift”) is to “make the best decision you can with the information you’ve got RIGHT NOW”.  Otherwise, it can be really easy to get caught in the trap of trying to be sure you have all the necessary information, or worse still, to look back and play the “if only…” game.  Those options don’t really serve.

So, I’ve taken a little ditty by the Barenaked Ladies (a Canadian band) called “One Little Slip” — it was actually used in the movie Chicken Little — and replaced the word “slip” with “step”.  This catchy little tune has become my theme for the last few days.  It keeps me moving forward and focused on the present moment.  It’s a good thing.

Bottom-line:  one little step is all it takes to move forward.  No matter how long the road ahead, you can still take a step right here, right now.  As the inspiring saying goes, “The journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step.”

When the Answer is “No”

I remember sitting in church years ago, listening to a sermon.  I can’t recall much of what was said that morning; the minister in question was well-known for expounding on end and losing the message in the length of the sermon.  That being said, I do remember him refering to a TV show in which during a particular episode the townsfolk were caught in the midst of a severe drought.  Many of the people were praying and praying endlessly, asking God for rain, which never came.  Needless to say, despair began to set in until finally someone cried out, “Why won’t God answer our prayers?”  To which the primary character (an angel) replied:  “your prayer was answered; the answer is ‘no’.” (Sorry folks, I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the show, although I can picture it quite vividly).

For some reason, I was profoundly impacted by the minister’s sharing of this moment. In the years that have followed since, I have often had occasion to look at how often people ask a question, expect a specific answer, and then when the answer is different, complain that they weren’t heard, or weren’t answered at all.  This is particularly true, so it seems, when our requests are met with a simple “no”.  Why is that?  Why do we get so attached to hearing “yes” that the word “no” sends us into despair and gloom?

Having pondered this for a bit, I think it comes down to attachment, expectation and fear (aka, lack of trust).   I think so many of us get really attached to a specific outcome and when it doesn’t show up we doubt that we actually know what to do.  We become unsure of whether or not the universe is really supporting us.   We question whether or not God really wants us to be comfortable and succeed on our terms.

Personally, I believe that God does, absolutely want us to succeed on our terms.  So often though, what we think are our terms really aren’t.  Because we haven’t taken the time to get clear on what our terms are.  Instead, we’ve just jumped on a bandwagon somewhere, claimed it’s purpose as ours, and asked the universe to support out decision.  Sometimes it will; and sometimes it won’t.  And I choose to believe that when the universe won’t — when the answer to our prayers is “no”, it’s becuase there really is something better in store for us.

Now, I’m as human as the next guy, and this is just as hard for me to embrace as it probably is for you.  Sometimes I can totally settle into that trust-space and feel the arms of the universe envelope me and guide me.  Other times though, when I get too attached to “being right”, when I lose sight of being in service, it’s harder for me to let go.  That’s when I hear that minister’s voice saying, “The answer is no.”  I may not like it; and I can still accept it.  Deep down I do get that, like any good parent, sometimes the universe will say “no” whether I agree or not — and in the end, it’ll give me time to get clear on what I want and jump back in the game.

Have You Laughed Today?

Seems like a relevant question I think.  Certainly it’s as good as any other question I might choose to begin a blog post with.  And for me, what makes this the question of the day is the re-realization that laughter really is a good thing.

They say that laughter is the best medicine.  And I gotta say, it’s definitely more tasty and palatable than some of the meds I’ve taken in my lifetime.  And I know for a fact that the most excrutiating tension headaches can be relieved by a good, deep belly laugh.  You know the kind of laugh I’m talking about; the laugh that comes about when you’re watching great stand-up comedy — nothing crude or offensive, just pure humour.

When was the last time you laughed like that?  Have you laughed like that today?  Heck, have you laughed at all today?  And I’m sorry folks, but a gentle giggle simply isn’t good enough.  I’m talking about a good, whole-hearted laugh.

Now, admittedly, when you’re in the throes of brain-draining work, it can be hard to see the need for laughter, let alone find something at which to laugh.  The thing is, though, I think it’s important to bring on the laughter before the “need” for laugher arises.  That moment when you’re caught in the vortex of brain-draining work is exactly when you need to release some tension, before it gets caught in your shoulders or stomach or manifests as that aforementioned tension headache.

Not sure how to laugh?  Granted, forcing a laugh can be tricky.  So let me share something I discovered this morning.  You know the song “There’s a Hole in the Bucket”?  It’s the song where Henry wants to get some water, notices a hole in the bucket, asks Liza what to do, and thereafter ensues a whole back-and-forth banter of how to deal with the hole in the bucket, which goes in a circular fashion until they’re back at the point where there’s a friggin’ hole in the bucket.  sesame Street did a great skit of this when I was a kid.  Anyhow, what I discovered is that, if you sing this song with a certain amount of inflection you really can’t help but laugh.  It’s just not possible to be stoic in the face of the pretzel that gets created in this simple song

Need more strategies?  Buy a joke book and keep it on your desk, subscribe to a joke-a-day website (there’s got to be a few online), keep a copy of your favourite sitcom on DVD nearby, or better yet, as Cheryl Caldwell says “ask a 5 year old to skip; it’s hilarious.”

I guess what I know for sure is that kids can find a way to laugh at almost anything.  And laughter is contagious.  And laughter is the best medicine.  So it behooves us to reconnect with our childlike wisdom and joy and laugh a little.  When it comes right down to it, a day without laughter is bound to be less than fulfilling.  Dem’s my two-cents worth.