A sea of calm in a storm of chaos

For anyone who has ever attempted white water rafting you know that the #1 thing to remember while entering the rapids is that you don't stop paddling. I've heard the guides constantly remind us that when you get scared or the rapids seem too strong, paddle harder and listen to the commands. If you stop paddling during the rush of the rapids a whole slue of things could happen. People can fall over, the boat can flip, you can run aground, etc. Don't stop paddling.

I remember taking teens from my youth group rafting - we did it each summer - and the guide had to continually yell at us every time to keep paddling. Each time we tackled a class 4 or 5 he would scream "don't stop paddling," "keep going," "we're almost through." But every time another raft from our flotilla would be overturned and teenage girls would be screaming because there hair was wet or something slippery brushed their leg. And every time we would get through and into an eddy the guides would remind us how important it was to keep paddling. Although we wanted to stop out of fear, that's when we needed to paddle harder to avoid hazards and getting stuck in the hydraulics.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned it’s that life is a lot like white water rafting. Your trip begins nice and smooth as you start at the put-in and follow the leisurely paced current, just how life is most of the time and you eventually find rapids that sneak up just ahead or around the next turn. And when you seem to approach the intense rapids of life, whether it’s work, relationships or just the stress of things going on that are out of your control, and you begin to get caught up in the crushing water that’s spraying overhead. When you feel the crunch of the rocks below and the violent current, that's when out of instinct you want to stop paddling and hold on. The moment you want to cease your paddling out of fear. The moment when your entire body is struck with fear, frozen by the intense realization that you're no longer in control. That instant when your raft bounces from rock to rock like a pinball in a machine. It is then that you need to paddle the most. It doesn’t matter if you’re scared or worried; because like life, the river doesn’t cater to you. It owes you nothing. It's unforgiving. It's relentless. So is life. You just have to bite your lip and paddle, paddle out of instinct. Paddle for survival. You paddle for yourself. That’s how you’ll survive all of what the river can throw at you, and that’s how you’ll survive the rapids that lay ahead in life.

Regardless of where you find yourself in your journey. Whether you're sitting pretty with a nice McMansion and a power suit, power steering-type job or you're struggling to break into a career. Whether you're barely making ends meet or you've got everything you want. No matter where you are you'll find yourself constantly going in and out of relentless rocky rapids of fear, frustration and chaos. It is then when everything sucks and it seems you've lost control that you must keep paddling. Forcing yourself to keep pushing forward. Pushing you to go on, paddle faster. Just like any river, and in our lives, no matter how rough the rapids, a welcome eddy calmly awaits to slowly carry you along until that next round of rapids - that sits down river, just around that corner that you're not ready for - waits to take you on again. Head on.

But if you paddled on once, you can do it again. Today you become that sea of calm amongst the storm of chaos that is your life.


Until next time...

Life at the free throw line

Imagine that you're standing at the free throw line about to take your one and only free throw to win the game. So much is riding on this shot. The game. The season. Your career. Your image. Everything rides on this one shot. A free throw. The distance between you and the rim is about thirteen feet. No one is standing in your way. No one can block your shot. It's just you, the ball and the rim. The lights dim on just you and the paint. The crowd silences. Sweat drips down your forehead. The ref passes you the ball. Seconds later it lands in your hands. You bounce it once. A second time. You close your eyes. Breath in slowly. Exhale slower. You open your eyes. Focus on the backboard. You bend your knees and dip with the force shooting you and your arms up towards the hoop. You release...

At this moment you have three outcomes:

1. You can miss. An airball, brick it off the glass or rim, it could bounce in and out teasing you, it can roll along the rim taunting you as you wish, as you pray that it goes in. You miss the shot.
2. It can go from backboard to the front of the rim, bounce over towards the back portion of the rim, travel westward to the left side and moments later fall in like a pinball hitting every possible obstacle in it's way.
3. Swish. Nothing. But. Net.

...as the ball leaves your hands it soars through the air. You hold your breath. Everyone around you hangs on tightly to whatever they can. You close your eyes and pray. It slowly makes its way, cutting through the thin air as it makes its approach. Time stands still. Your nerves grow in uneasiness, your muscles tighten, your heart pounds, baboom...babooom.....baboooom. Everyone watching holds their breath. What goes through your mind? How do you prepare for what's about to come? How did you get to this point? Where did it begin?

The free throw is one of the easiest and most challenging things in the game of basketball, much like a penalty kick in soccer (a sport I'm more passionate about and can tolerate). Although very simple and with no one in your face a free throw can ruin your career or at least be your Achilles heal, just ask Shaq. It's so easy, like you should just be able to reach forward and just set it in the net, but still so many players struggle.

I was shooting around at the rec and decided to try my best at nailing as many free throws as I could out of ten shots. Usually, I make about seven or eight, which I'm alright with since I stopped playing basketball in the sixth grade. When I tried this week it was like I couldn't even hit water if I fell out of a boat. I made one out of my first six or seven shots. It was so bad that I missed all the way up to my tenth shot and convinced myself that I can't quit with a miss.

A bit frustrated by the outcome of this silly personal contest, I grew determined to make another free throw, I was on a conquest now. I set my eyes on the basket, took a deep breath, bounced the ball once and a second time, bent my knees and threw my arms up and released my shot. It soared to the basket and the next thing I heard as the sweet sound of the ball hitting nothing the net and coming down to the floor. It was exhilarating. On the eleventh shot I made it. On the eleventh shot I did what I couldn't do on my first nine out of ten tries.

I went one for ten, which in baseball isn't even good, but it took my eleventh shot to succeed again. It made me think how challenging something so easy can be. Furthermore, how frustrated I got when I couldn't succeed at something so damn easy. It made me think how it relates to my life right now. I've applied and applied for jobs, just as many of you have or are doing, but never seem to hear back; or maybe you're a businessman and you're coming up short deal after deal; or you're asking out cute girl/guy after cute girl/guy, but always getting a "no." We all have our own story.

We can go 0-2, 0-5 or 0-10 and either way it still sucks, but if we lived our lives where we just gave up because things weren't going our way or because our cards weren't stacked in our favor we would never succeed. We would never get anywhere. We would never live. I'd rather live a life where I failed but lived, than live a life where I failed to live.

An older gentleman who comes into the rec always tries to fill me with motivation and inspiration as he asks about my life and job search. We've known each other for years, since my days in high school. He would come to football games and would hear my name called over the PA system when I'd come into the game to punt or kick a field goal. So one day, way back when, he became a friend of mine while I first worked at the rec.

One day recently, he could tell I was down and out about my job search and shared a story with me of an old employee he was interviewing. He worked in the insurance industry and needed reps to go to peoples houses and meet to discuss insurance plans. He had interviewed many candidates before this guy and always came up short finding a motivated, determined person. He had one question he always asked in interviews, and never got the answer he was looking for. If you went to ten houses and went 0-10 on getting a new client, what would you do, he would ask.

The man took a moment to think. Then he looked him in the eye and said I'd go to the eleventh house.

Life is all about what will happen next. Every miss. Every strike out. Every email declining you of a job. They all just bring you one more closer to what you're supposed to get. Just like my free throws, I could have stopped at ten, but I knew that I would eventually get one. Sometimes we blind ourselves of the reality of what's happening. I'll be the first to admit it. When the ball is in our court we might brick it, it might even bounce all over the place and tease you, but end up falling short...or you can bank that shot. At least you tried.

So often we get so upset, distraught and depressed that nothing is going our way, but if we stay the course, if we open our eyes and we keep moving forward we will get there. We will make that free throw, we will win that girl/ guy's heart, we will land that job. Even if you're batting 0-10, there's always that eleventh.

Until next time...