I sat in the park waiting for my son's soccer practice to conclude. I have always loved when my kids played sports. Not organized sports but sports in junior high and high school. I limited my experiences with organized sports because I could no longer stand the other parents. I struggled each and every game with parents who tried to re-live their past glories through their children or who yelled from the sidelines; yelling that often included belittling and threats. I usually rue the day I relinquish my decision to stay away from little league or girls' softball leagues and here I go, facing a rue, I have decided to give it one more try and my son is now playing AYSO.
I shall keep you posted how this one turns out. I guess hope springs eternal, eh? I hope for my son to meet other kids his age as we have just moved to the area. I hope he learns lessons in teamwork and fairplay. I hope he adjusts to a sport he knows little about. I hope the other parents are parents and not tyrants. I hope I get to see every single game. I hope he enjoys it. Yes, there is indeed a lot of hope involved.
While I sat, the wind picked up and I could feel the breeze turn colder. It was Auigust and yet it felt like late Fall and the wind grew, becoming relentless. I could feel my heart harden and I was wishing I was home making dinner or writing in front of my computer. I stopped my thoughts then and there. I could hear a voice say, "There is opposition in all things." Normally, I do not mind opposition because it makes me work harder, it makes my stubborn streak darker and I usually am on a path of learning as soon as there is opposition. So, I embraced the wind, I let go of my fear of other parents and the damage they could do to my kid, let alone their own, and I am willing to face it all head-on.
The only thing that darn wind can do is mess up my hair, right? That's an easy fix and the reason for pony tails. The wind makes the young sapling stronger, that is the hope anyway. As my son and I walked to the car, he was invigorated and he was hot and thankful for the wind, for the cooler breeze. One man's junk is another man's treasure. There are lessons in everything we do. I often learn from my children; Iong ago letting go of my parental pride, saying I am sorry when I am, and giving when I could.
The sailor uses the wind to move his ship. The windmill uses the wind to draw water or crush grain. Working with what seems to be our opposition can develop skills we never knew existed or we thought impossible to develop, I often try to exploit my liabilities and use them to my benefit. Anyone can benefit from an asset, right? So, I will sail my own ship, I will grind my own grain - all in an effort for continued growth and development. It's a sacrifice I can afford.