Sport and Bonding

Sport and Bonding

Guest Writer: Ken Fellows

       In their day, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson were celebrated hall-of-fame stars for different, highly competitive professional basketball teams, the Boston Celtics and Los Angeles Lakers. While giving no quarter during a multitude of games, they famously bonded off-court to form a legendary friendship full of mutual admiration. In all sports, there are similar close relationships between fierce competitors, but perhaps none more recognized than the Bird/Johnson comradeship.

    The byline for this recent picture in the Boston Globe was: ”Real Reward: Results Matter in Sports, but Relationships Matter More and Last Longer.” In the piece, sports writer Tara Sullivan described the “power of friendship in sports and how bearing witness to the respect, trust, and loyalty between professional athletes can be as captivating as watching them compete for wins and championships. The example they set in those moments resonates with more potency than anything achieved statistically.”

     In her article, Sullivan points out that “Jesse Owens, who forever changed our conversation on racial equality, said this: Friendships born on the field of athletic strife are the real gold of competition. Awards become corroded, and friends gather no dust.”

     This statement, the wording quite eloquent, is nonetheless insightful and has been illustrated many times in other athletic avenues. Sullivan’s article also cites Chris Evert and Martine Navratilova, former competing tennis champions turned best friends, who helped each other through their battles with cancer. And, at the end of Roger Federer’s retirement tennis match with Rafael Nadal, the pair celebrated their respect and loyalty while tearfully raising held hands.

     My youth and my adult years were enlivened and enriched by playing individual and team sports. Especially memorable in my senior years are the many teammates, competitors and games I accumulated over 25 retirement years playing adult basketball and pond hockey in Kittery Pt, Maine.

     Our basketball games occurred in a local school gym on Monday and Wednesday evenings from 6-8 pm. As memorable as the games were, the comradery … the kidding, joking, stories, and laughs … during between-game rest periods produced particularly lasting friendships and durable memories.

The night I ‘retired,’ I told the assembled 8-10 players that it was my last game …with regrets that all I ever wanted to hear upon leaving this earth when the time comes was “nice shot.” One of my best friends immediately countered: “That would never happen. The last words you would ever hear are: “That’s another foul.” He, I, and several other longtime player-friends still meet several times annually to reminisce over ‘beers and burgers.’ And there’s always a ‘reunion picnic’ held each spring.

     I’ve also maintained friendships with many of my ice hockey compatriots.

Having retired from playing hockey several years ago, I now stop and wistfully wave at the guys when driving past the Fort McClary pond where we played. But not anymore. Climate change has terminated skating there and at most local ponds. Many of those hockey players, like my basketball buddies, are still chums and peers …. for which I’m grateful.

     It’s refreshing to be reminded that trophies and medals are valued mementos of achievement, but tarnish, fade and break. Like Larry and Magic, the best rewards in sports are the friendships established … they can last forever.

Ken Fellows

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com

    

st. Francis :Hoeing, Gandhi: Dying

St. Francis: Hoeing, Gandhi: Dying

“Saint Francis, hoeing his garden, was asked what he would do if he knew the world would end tomorrow. ‘Continue hoeing my garden,’ said the saint.”—Suzanne Guthrie, Synthesis Today, Quote for June 15, 2018, attributed to St. Francis.

my sacred space

I have often heard this phrase attributed to St. Francis and wondered what I would do if I knew I was about to die.

I have made writing every day a discipline for several years. But would I keep writing? Writing has become one of my best spiritual practices. As I look outside at trees, birds, and sky from the floor-to-ceiling window in my office, and my fingers hit the keyboard, I feel the peace that I hope is God’s presence.

My sacred space at home is in front of a large window at my desk in my office, which once was our daughter’s room when she was growing up. There, I write and am surrounded by family pictures, icons, and remembrances of days of joy. I would ask for prayers for the good pray-ers I know, especially the women in the Daughters of the King. I would also pray at other sacred spaces if I could visit them.

 I certainly would spend as much time as possible on my last days with my family. I might entice my grandchildren to watch a movie with me and then secretly watch them. I would want to be with my husband as much as possible. I would like my family and friends to know how much I loved them through my actions and words. I would like to have a meal with my family and friends. I would look at old pictures to keep memories with me.

Of course, if everyone else knew the world was ending, seeing how our paths might cross would be interesting!

So, what does all this mean?

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever,” is attributed to Mahatma Gandhi.

I try to carry these quotes by Gandhi and St. Francis daily and share them with spiritual friends. The quotes are an excellent daily benchmark to know if we are doing the practices that bring us closer to God.
Gandhi’s quote is a paradox, an anchor metaphor for our life, a constant ambiguous paradox.

Each day, I try to spend more time meditating on quotes from authors like these, who help us realize our best connections to God, our true selves, our neighbors, family, and friends.
Of course, often, the connections lead us to other places, and we pray to stay open to these new adventures.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

 

 

 

 

 

God Hole

God Hole

“There is a really deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes, I am there too. But more often stones and grit block the well, and God is buried beneath.”—Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life.

Etty Hillesum was a young Jewish woman studying law in the Netherlands in the 1940s who lived down the street from Anne Frank. She died at 29 in the Nazi concentration camp at Auschwitz. She kept a diary of her inner life, published after her death, describing the severe persecution of the Jews in Holland during those times.

Her transformation from fear and hate to love, caring, kindness, and compassion for those suffering around her makes her an icon for us today. Through the help of her psychotherapist, she learned to see the God hole in people and situations during those unbelievably troublesome times and fill that God hole with the love she had known.

This is indeed our ministry as spiritual friends. Each of us has a hole in our mind, our heart, and our body that only God can fill. So, instead, we try to fill it with relationships, food, alcohol, drugs, shopping, sports, work, power, family, writing, reading, and patriotism.
We can also fill it with hate, persecution, bigotry, self-centeredness, intimidation, cruelty, negativity, pessimism, hopelessness, despair, apathy, and indifference. As spiritual friends, God calls us to help each other find that God hole and fill it with the best unconditional love we can muster.

It begins with our presence with each other and listening.

I remember a dear friend who comes into my office at the hospital early one morning about a relationship that had recently broken up. He was depressed, sad, broken-hearted, and in tears. We talked for some time. But, mostly, I listened and tried to let him know how much I cared about him.
Late in the conversation, I mentioned the God hole. Somehow, he intuitively realized that this relationship had completely filled his God hole. I only had to say very few words. Then, a light bulb went on. I rarely mention the God hole when someone is suffering so greatly, but something moved me to bring it up that early morning.
Hopefully, the Holy Spirit was guiding both of us.