Finding My Euphoria – Purity of the Game

What does it mean to win? Or what does it mean to achieve?
Or what is victory? What is the secret?
Or is there one?
What does it take to keep going, win or lose?
Or what does it mean to wake up and show up, even when the odds are against us?

Or what about this?
What about when the score is stacked the other way?
What does is mean to show up, regardless of the outcome, or regardless of the critics or the comments we get from people who never dared to play?
And of course, what does it take to compete at your best level, no matter what the scoreboards tell you?

Who is the real underdog and why is the underdog so heroic to me?
Perhaps the answer lies in the obvious because the underdog does not think about the losses or the pain or the blood and the sweat.
The underdog does not lose themselves to intimidation.
They do not give in to comments or lose to the sway of an outside opinion.
No, the underdog is the one who refuses to quit, which means at the end of the day, no matter what the scoreboard tell us, the underdog shows up, no matter what.

Everyone is happy when the world is on their side. Everyone is happy when the odds are in their favor, the hill is not too steep to climb, and of course, everyone is fine to take the risk when there is no risk, and all they see is a reward.

Everyone loves a good reward.
But what happens when we overthink? What happens when we give in to distraction or what happens when we lose ourselves to the pressures of the crowd?
What happens when we look down after being told, “Don’t look down,” and rather than attaching ourselves to the effort, what happens when we find ourselves attached to an unpreferred outcomes, and then what?
What happens when fear comes in to interrupt our best potential?

What happens when the ideas if winning or losing becomes more important that the purity of the game?
Then what>
I have seen people face down their oppressors, both foreign and domestic.
I have seen people face down their bullies, who were both foreign and domestic as well.
I have listened to stories from people who were told they would never stand on their own two feet again, and yet, they told this story while standing at a podium.

I have seen people who were diagnosed with the worst news, or people who were given a survival rate that went from slim to none. And somehow, I saw them face the game of life.
I saw them rage of the desire to compete with no attachment to the outcome, and with no attachment to the odds, and no attachment to scoreboard or their opponent, and I have seen people who had nothing left to lose, and I have watched as they decided to play the next hand with all they have.

Nothing else mattered. No one could intimidate them or stop them. I have seen this. but have I ever dared to be this way?
I have always wanted to be this brave or daring. I have always wanted to be this forthcoming, and despite what comes, despite what happens, and despite the score or if I am down on points, or if victory is impossible, I have always wanted to play the game as if no one can beat me.
And no one can
Unless I let them

I have always wanted to adhere myself to the motto that no one can beat me, except for me.
I want to be brave.
I want to be that person.
I want to be like a little girl who I see, and I want to be as brave as her, because although she doesn’t know, I want her to know that I do not have what it takes to walk in her shoes, or to live in her world, and while I often find myself imploding or folding into myself, or if I am being honest; I often look at myself with contempt or wonder why I am not better, stringer, or faster; and meanwhile, there is a young girl who looks to find the good in people. She looks to find happiness in life. She has reasons to complain.
And no one would blame her if she did
But she doesn’t.
She has reasons to be angry, and yet, she is not.

She does not complain. She never wishes bad things for people.
She would rather be sad than someone else feel this way—perhaps this is because she understands what sadness is, and yet, what does she do?
She sings, and she smiles, and she looks for the moon in the sky.

I am not as good as her.
I am not half the man that she is.
I am not half as brave as this young girl.
I am not half as brave as you, nor am I as strong or as good, or as smart, which leads me to explain why I come here, or better, this is why I invite you to sit with me every morning.

I cannot face this world alone.
I am far too timid and too weak.
I have learned that strength has less to do with muscle and more to do with the soul. I have learned that strength is as relative as weakness, and more than ever before; I see me as I am.

I have decided to take these notes to carry with me because I am the one who has given in or surrendered because of the points on the scoreboard. I have been the one who quit because I was more attached to an outcome than I was to the purity of the game. And so, in the essence of truth and in the spirit of the game, I am the one who has fallen to a disservice and lost before the game began.

I have had the benefit of meeting with students. I have had the chance to listen to them and to speak with them.
I think about a girl who hadn’t spoken to her father in over 18 years, and after a brief interaction, and a quick meeting in her classroom, not only did she speak with him, but her Father is coming to see her (his baby girl) when she graduates with a degree this year.

I think of the cards that I have been dealt and I wonder where I get the balls, or how arrogant it is of me to think that I have the right to skate through this life, untried, unscathed, and unchallenged by man or woman, or anyone who falls in-between.

I have run for so long and so far, and yet, I have gone nowhere but here.
I have hidden and I have looked for the escape. I have tried to disguise myself. I have tried to put on the mask or show my brave face.
I have looked for the angles, and I’ve cut corners. And sure, I’ve cheated.
I’ve done what I could to get my way.
I’ve played dirty before.
Sure, I have.
And where has this led me?
Well?
Here, of course.

I am still undressing the disguise that I have worn for most of my life. I am unraveling the truths and opening the doorway to a new way of thinking.

I don’t know what the moon looks like right now or where it is in the sky.
I don’t know what comes next.
I don’t know what the score is, or if I stand a chance with you –

But let me just play this hand and let me see the hand I’ve been dealt.
Let me play this out.
Just for today.

No tricks.
No hidden agenda.
No attachment to outcome.
Just me you, and the effort it takes to show face and say, hey, let’s play one more time.

Let me face this down because I know what it feels like to lose a game, or to  lose someone or something, but as I have learned from experience, the moon is still up there somewhere, and whether I am blessed by a special visitor, or if and when I find myself on my own; then let me brave enough to give you my all, from this day forward, until death do us part.