I exited the interstate knowing I didn’t have time to drop the package at Fed Ex and still do what I really wanted to do which was get out on the walking trail. By trying to squeeze the errand into my schedule I’d driven completely out of my way and created a hectic situation for myself. As I changed lanes, I thanked my guides for putting up with me as I fumble through life. Their answer was instant. Fumbles help us learn how to carry the ball better.
Carrying the ball was a familiar image for me. Both my boys played football and for most of my life, if the television was running, a game of some sort was playing. Other than tedious golf, any sport with a ball was of interest to the males in the house.
With one exception, I’d read while it droned on in the background. The Super Bowl and World Series would capture me because of the hoopla surrounding them. I’d choose my favorite team based on the color I like best, gaining a few eye rolls from the boys. Even though who won or lost seemed frivolous to me, it was more exciting to interact with my family when I cheered for my pick.
Fumbles were frowned on. The poor sucker who let the ball pop from his grasp and roll into the hands of an opposing player, was scolded from the sidelines and chided from the living rooms of households across the viewing audience. The important lessons that ensued were overlooked.
That hectic day in the car, I made a pact to arrange my afternoon more succinctly, so I could incorporate my daily walk and still get to the store or surrogate errand. I decided to position the ball—my goals—more securely and apply the skill to even my simplest goals such as hiking. I made an oath with myself to cradle and nurse my dreams to life by the right caress.
I vow to remember that inspiration strikes when we’re at our lowest—when we’ve toppled over, rolling around as our dreams escape into the arms of those people we perceive as our enemies. I vow to remember that no one can recover what is truly ours even though we sometimes feel that others’ success detracts from ours.
Our success is based solely on our ability to find our way through the game of life by syncing our heartbeat to that of the unique opportunities we encounter on our individual journeys. When we do this, we win. When we do this, we see there are no enemies and the types of games are as endless as our imaginations. The scoreboard is a reflection of our fumbles.
Michele Zirkle is a native of Meigs County, author of “Rain No Evil” and host of Life Speaks on AIR radio. Access more at soundcloud.com\lifespeaks.
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