Thursday, September 10, 2020

The Way Forward is Sometimes The Way Back

Looking for a little encouragement?  I might have some for you.

It has to do with basketball.

Well, more specifically, it has to do with a movie about basketball that, of course, is really about life -- but not about life just in general.  This was a movie about my life and, possibly, about yours.

I finally watched "The Way Back" and in it I discovered inspiration I wasn't expecting.  Somewhere beneath the big themes of loss and addiction and contribution was a crazy brilliant truth.  Blink and you might miss it, for it lay not in the portrayal of trauma and redemption, but in the messy coaching of a nondescript high school basketball team.  It went something like this: 

1. Most of us are not star players.

This might sound depressing, and maybe if the film left us there, it would be.  But it hit on one of the greatest struggles we can face in our lives: In the sheer mundanity of our our everyday existence, in the face of all the things that are bigger than us, do we still matter?  Do we count?  Do we make a difference?   Even if we are not the star players?

Because we all know there are star players out there, like the big, badass opposing team of up-and-coming athletes in the film.  They have raw talent.  They've had opportunity to develop it.  They've got experience and open doors.  Clearly they are going somewhere, doing something, for better or for worse.  They are the 1%.  Which means that, statistically speaking, most of us are not them.  

But that's not what matters in the end.  When all is said and done, we each still have something to bring to the game -- something meaningful -- if we're willing to do the messy, frustrating work of owning it, offering it, and disciplining it.

And as the movie depicts, that is certainly not easy.  Sometimes we must learn to speak up.  Sometimes we must to learn to shut up.  Sometimes we must show up and sometimes we need to go home.  Whatever the challenge, we will probably have to do a lot of laps.  But most often, what we've really got to get into our heads and hearts is the next vital truth of the film:

2. Never forget that the little things count.

This is film gold right here, a few sentences that maybe amount to six seconds of overt air time.  

"Chip away at it.  It's the little things.  The little things count."  

When our stories don't look like star-player-stories; when there aren't big appearances of larger-than-life talent and against-all-odds moments; when we really do have to face realities of heartache and loss and failure and there are no epic come-backs; when we're sadly bereft of finding our perfect partner, our perfect calling, our perfect place in the world, we can lose our bearings.  We can struggle to find meaning.  We can become discouraged to say the least.

But the truth is, most of us really are making and can make a difference, it's just not in a single moment, not in a single achievement, not in an epic battle of good vs. evil, not in a planetary alignment of justice and truth so that love conquers all.  Our stories look more like chipping away at the opposition and never. giving. up.  

Our stories are ones in which our daily decisions, the little decisions, are the ones that make a difference.  

And if we can focus on that, remember it, and let it drive us, it is then that we can truly accomplish things we never thought possible before.

That's it.  That's the encouragement I have to offer you.  Check out the movie.  Imagine your life on the court -- working your ass off, yes, but chipping away at the opposition little by little, pressing in, and achieving something worthwhile in the process.  Because I am not a star player, but I don't have to be, and you don't have to be one either.  Whether the game we've committed to is caring for self and others, working our recovery, voting for systemic change, seeking healing, or just pulling our families together in the midst of hardship and devastation, we can do the little things.  The little things count. 

Don't. give. up.