My son plays basketball. If you ask him what he loves about playing, he’ll tell you, being on the team and shooting. He loves being with the other boys on the team. He doesn’t even have to be on the court with them. He loves just being on the bench with them, doing what teammates do—being in the huddle, cheering on a good play, cheering each other up after a bad play, sharing packs of bubble gum. He loves the feeling of belonging that comes with putting on a uniform. Whenever I see him wearing it, he always looks 10 feet taller.
And he loves to shoot. He’s pretty good at it, too. He has a smooth jumper and he’s always one of the few out there who can consistently hit a 3-pointer. But when it comes to playing defense or going under the basket, he shies away.
We talk all the time about how in basketball you can’t just do one thing. Your team also needs you to make some steals, block some shots, and drive for the hoop. And the thing is, in his mind he knows he can do all these things. He’s got quick eyes and good height. And I know he can do all these things. I’ve seen him do them a hundred times out in the driveway when playing against me, or when mixing it up with his own teammates. But out on the court, with 9 other 12-year-old boys all going for the ball, and 5 of them kids he’s never seen before, it’s a different story. He doesn’t want to end up on the ground. He doesn’t want to wrestle for the ball and wind up taking an elbow to the face at the same time. Who can blame him? I try to tell him it’s no big deal. So you take an elbow to the face, you get fouled, or even give a foul. It’s all part of the game.
If I had to guess, though, taking an elbow to the face is not really what he sees when he imagines himself driving for the hoop. He sees blood, broken bones, and himself being carried out on a stretcher. You understand, I’m exaggerating. But you get the point. The mind is a powerful friend or foe. It doesn’t matter, nor does it seem to help, that I give him pep talks. You just need to tell yourself you’ll be alright. Don’t think the worse. Mind over matter. You know the cliches, and so do I, because my parents gave them to me, and they didn’t help me, either. In fact, most of the time they only made me dig in my heels, convinced me even more that, if I took their advice, things wouldn’t turn out alright. I’m sure I even told myself in those moments that my parents didn’t care about me.
Now, as an adult, I’d like to think I’ve gained some perspective, perspective that my own kids will have someday. Part of that perspective comes in seeing, and admitting, that my parents did care about me. That when they signed me up to be part of the local theater group, or picked me up to put me on the ski lift to the top of the mountain—“We didn’t pay all this money so you could conquer the bunny slope,” my dad said—they weren’t actually trying to kill me. Yes, I still believe I would have been perfectly happy all my life on the bunny slope. Not everything in life must be a lesson in how to overcome. As a parent (and as a human being), I try to remember that my great adventure doesn’t have to be someone else’s great adventure. For some, the most courageous thing we could do today was done the moment we chose to get out of bed.
And yet, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’ve also gained perspective in believing this: my son probably needs to take an elbow to the face. We all do. Not because I want to see him or anyone else get carried out on a stretcher, but because it may be the only way for us to have our minds changed about who or what has any real power over us.
It may be that if he did take an elbow to the face in a game, he would hit the ground. He might even bruise or bleed. But I also believe two (three!) other things would happen. One, he wouldn’t die. Two, whoever elbows him to the face would be the first not only to help him up but also to ask if he’s alright. And three, he would discover that what he has long feared is no longer to be feared.
Can you imagine how different the world could be right now if humanity agreed to play by these rules? That if you hurt someone, purposefully or not, you have to personally bind up their wounds. That if you shoot a gun to kill someone, you must dig your victim’s grave, lay their body in the ground, and comfort their loved ones. That if you fire a rocket to destroy the homes of millions, displacing them to the streets, you have to rebuild their homes, and, meanwhile, take those millions into your own home.
Can you imagine how different the world could be right now with a love like that? Shamed by kindness, we would never go to war again.
PleaseGrace 