Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Playing Hurt

While not a great spectator of any sport, watching football from the sofa sidelines-- without a clue of the rules and regulations and, unless it’s painfully obvious, understanding what’s really going on--amounts to a way in which I can invest my time with my family that’s both fun and memorable. And this year, with its nearly epic proportions, one would be hard-pressed to spend the night doing anything else. The nation has a soft spot for the Saints and in our collective hearts of hearts, truly wanted them to win. We Americans not only like Underdogs; we wanted a New Orleans miracle. But I, the football-rules-deficient casual-observer, proclaimed out loud to my husband and son, who both understand the game in its entirety and invest in it emotionally, screaming at the tv with each great pass or play, that there was just no way the Saints could get past Peyton Manning, and so they’d better prepare themselves for a Colt’s victory.


We all know the outcome. It made for great football, even to those of us who remain clueless. The second half revitalization of the Saints was breathtakingly magical, with physicality by its players that left all of us spellbound.


I love watching the Super Bowl because I love watching Champions. Noticing their moves both on and off the field. Most football players play hurt most of the time. Football, as a physically grueling sport, demands of its players unnatural moves. It places strain on body parts that was never intended. Bodies are not really supposed to move that way. Ankles, knees, shoulders. They all take on unusual levels of stress and strain. Its players can’t help but play hurt. And watching Champions play hurt reveals more about their inner character that playing pain-free ever will. There are lessons learned while playing hurt. And it’s hard to hide them.


Sometimes when we play hurt we understand what's going on. We might have taken our eye off the ball in our work or in our relationships and we are now paying the price for inattention. We are playing hurt through separation or unemployment and we saw it coming. We accept the hurt as part of the consequences of something that we did.


Sometimes we play hurt because that is simply the natural state of life. An aging grandparent dies and we play hurt through the grieving process. But we understand that all good lives must come to an end and we are grateful to have been in relationship with a loved one for as long as we did. Sometimes accidents happen and we agonize over the injuries sustained by a loved one. Yet we understand that healing will eventually occur and that broken bones and broken spirits will eventually mend.


And then sometimes we play hurt through life events that just do not make any sense to us. Never will. Events that seemingly came out of nowhere and yet, have wound up having the most profound impact on our lives. Collapse of major corporations. Collapse of economies. Collapse of countries. If one understands that a butterfly flapping its wings in South America can affect the temperature in Minnesota, one can somewhat understand how the credit perils in Greece might affect stock prices on the New York Stock Exchange and our retirement plans. We are all connected. And so, when seemingly disparate events happen on the other side of the world, we play hurt through the unexpected and oftentimes sudden consequences. Of careers all at once in freefall. Homes foreclosed. College dreams dashed.


Displacement. Disheartenment. Serious playing hurt. I sense an abundance of that this year. Not only do I see it in my practice and read about it in the business journals; I feel it. Playing hurt this year finds many of us with punched-in-the-gut pain.


It is not the playing hurt that separates you from me or from anyone else. We are all playing hurt to one degree or another. It's how you choose to play when you play hurt that separates you from the pact. Playing joyfully while playing hurt is the most difficult thing in the world to do. It is our ability to play hurt with some level of abiding joy that marks us as victorious in this daily thing called life. Being able to infuse joy into the patterns of living—while playing hurt—is one of our greatest earthly challenges. It’s how the champions play. It’s what gets teams into the Super Bowl.


Playing hurt is never as much fun as playing pain-free. Not in football. Not in life. But playing hurt is something that, every now and then, we are forced to play. And sometimes through it, but certainly in the end, we will see beauty in our strength. In playing like a Champion.


Sending you all best wishes this week,

Carolina