So here I am. Sitting in a room in an apartment in East Brisbane. When you enter my room, my bed is to the left, and is made with a steal blue comforter, so light it almost looks silver. Almost directly behind it, but a little to the left, a window which almost consumes the entirety of the back wall. Outside are palm trees. The wall across from my bed consists of a white desk and above it is a white picture, with a large black painted rectangle, with brush strokes outside the lines, and a golden circle with three layers. Next to the desk there are two closets.
At night, the lights from a nearby stadium called The Gabba shine through my window. An Australian game, which I have just learned of, called Australian Football League plays there. I’m both curious about the game and its players, which I hear are God like creatures, portraying near perfect athleticism. Who doesn’t want to watch statuesque Aussie men kick, catch, run, and tackle….?
It is bewildering that two weeks ago, I never imagined I would be writing from the other side of the world, in this room.
….Two weeks ago, I never imagined I would have a game to win tomorrow.
….Two weeks ago, I never imagined this would be my life…
I’ve found I’ve surprised even myself with the swiftness of such a big decision.
And then, I remember that when you insert this life event into the big picture of my life, it hasn’t been swift at all.
My word this year has been process.
Process.
Everything is in process. I’m in process, you’re in process – life is process.
Often times we isolate things, and the people around us isolate things. But only we know the event within the event. Nothing can ever really be isolated. All things fit together, working in harmony, orchestrated by who I believe to be God and in perfect timing.
Timing is a funny thing.
In the last year or so, it’s as if a midlife crisis knocked on my door a bit early (I hope, early), inquiring “why are you alive?” and “what are you doing here?”
Time started to feel like it was moving faster.
And living back in my hometown, surrounded predominately by families, brought forth questions of what I want my life to be like and how I want those things to look.
Conventional? Unconventional? By traditional standards or a bit outside the lines?
It’s easy to timeline life – we’re taught to do it. Get an education, get a job, get married, have kids, retire, die.
But what if there were other options?
What if you were unsure that’s how you wanted to proceed. And if you did choose to proceed as such, could you still do it creatively?
Deep questioning became my norm, and while I have always been a thinker, the intensity became uncomfortable.
I started to feel a push toward something different.
First, a feeling of being unsettled.
Then, frustration and a general feeling of being a bit lost and unsure of what to do next.
Followed by, a few too many solo declarations of : “there has to be more than this.”
And while these feelings surfaced, so did my desire to play again. Which, had been gently and patiently whispering to me for several years, before finally erupting with firmness asserting “it’s now or never, my friend.”
All of this combined, stirred up a call to act.
My twenties were spent thinking.
My thirties will be about doing.
All of my maybe’s, what if’s, some day’s….
Are becoming…go forward, do now, find out, act faithfully…
In this deep questioning, I can’t help but ask “who are the people I find interesting?”
“Who are the people who live a life that looks appealing and well suited for me?”
They are people who seek experience, not things.
Who value personal growth and who are willing to learn through discomfort and the unknown.
Who challenge themselves.
People who discuss ideas, and dreams. Who value thought and difficult questions.
These are the people who don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks is right for their lives, and they don’t compare, because they know so deeply what’s right for them.
These are people who have grit.
They’re authentic, and unapologetically so.
These are the open minded and the open hearted – the strong, the vulnerable, and the willing.
I want to be like these people.
These people seem to do these things:
They act.
They take advantage of opportunities.
They do something – anything, rather than nothing, because action will guide the way.
They understand nothing is ever final – each step takes you to the next step.
They aren’t crushed by disappointment or overinflated by success.
They see value in everyone and everything.
They don’t overthink and underact. They act.
They’re open. And they stay open. They don’t shut down, run away, or give up.
They have the guts to put it out into the universe, and they let the universe answer.
They own their life experience.
They act in leaps of faith, and God delivers in the big ways.
They persist, knowing that just because it’s not now, doesn’t mean it’s not ever.
They trust the process.
They have the mental resolve, to refrain from talking themselves out of opportunities.
They tell fear to piss off.
They’re open minded enough to acknowledge that past experiences don’t always dictate all new experiences.
They trust their intuition.
They’re good listeners. To others, and to themselves.
They refrain from judgment.
They take risks.
They live big – creatively and according to their own unique call.
They share who they are and what they have to offer.
They love. Abundantly. And they receive love in abundance.
These people.
I want to be like these people.
Open. Loving. Adventuring. Experiencing. Embracing. Sharing. Trying. Growing. Connecting. Conversing. Dreaming. Learning. Daring. Risking. Expressing. Being.
With no regrets.
And with a life that’s been lived.
The Spirit was my first act – Australia is act two. I can’t wait to find out what’s next.
Warrior Soccer Training 