There I Am

I have been toying with this blog for a while. I had the moment that ignited it about 10 days ago but the tug of war in my brain continues. Nothing makes me angrier than asking myself a question I cannot definitively answer.

You can say what you will about life and death, where we go after we die, and if we come back to this earth. I know everyone has their opinions on this and no need to go into my beliefs now. Rather than picking apart what lies beyond this life, I have been thinking about the string of moments that make up THIS one. Most are good, some are bad, and some are like a homecoming.... a ping...a prick that makes my whole body feel warm with pens and needles that pulse though my almost 6 foot tall frame. Why do we have these moments? I began to think about the instant recently when one of these moments happened to me.

I had finished cardio at the Y and decided I was homesick for a part of me. Funny how we are so ready to create boxes for ourselves and guard those boxes: boxes of who we are now, who we were then, boxes of the "things” that defined us- like the thick black permanent marker we used to trace around our hands when we were little, step back and say,"there I am."

As I reluctantly went to the front desk and asked for a basketball, I was nervous. What if I did not fit into this box anymore? What if that part of me was gone? Could I handle that? Who would I be with that box gone? I reached for the ball. In my hands, I palmed it with my larger-than-is-normal female grip and walked up the narrow flight of stairs to the gym. I opened the door to the gorgeous wooden floors gleaming with a Sunday morning, not a soul around. Perfection. I was instantly back to 8th grade, in my school uniform during lunch break and study halls when I craved and treasured being in that gym alone. I found comfort knowing that the only sounds made would be coming from me: a bounce of the ball, swish of the ball through the net, the occasional screech of shoes, and my own breath.

I had not really touched a ball since high school. I knew better than to start shooting behind the arc. I went right under the goal itself and began the plate drill, looking straight up at the goal, aligning my toe to my knee to my elbow, releasing the ball as if to reach over the rim and grab it, following through. Coach would have been proud. Swish. First shot in. Promising. I repeated this over and over, all the while moving backward, out of the paint and into the places on the court I once called mine. Before I knew it, I was giddy and in disbelief. Swish. Swish again. Again. I was bounding about the court, one shot after another. I could not get the ball out of my hands fast enough. There must be a catch. I would miss soon. But I didn’t. Luckily, no one walked by to see this 30 years old woman laughing and running about like a toddler. It was as if no time had passed at all. I was filled with an adrenaline and amazement for some bigger force. How could this be? Was all of this muscle memory? Could this explain it? My body was on fire and I felt true and total happiness that I had not felt in years. I made a connection with, of all things, me.

Many would say that basketball for me was a talent and so, as I was shooting, watching the ball go in over and over, I began to say “thank you” for this talent. Because talents don’t leave us, they don’t rust or atrophy. Not ever. If we are lucky, we come across them early in life and because they make us feel so “at home” in our foreign selves, we have a natural inclination to develop them, work at them, though often not considering it work. We take full advantage of talents because we want to. And if we choose to put them down, we can pick them back up again.

I was lucky. I had a blessed childhood, given every opportunity to seek out my talents, find them, and make them a part of my daily existence. Then I grew up and left some of them behind and wondered where such a void came from, why I was not happy, wondering where “I” went. If I drew around my hand today, can I still step back and say, “there I am”?

A “natural aptitude or skill.” This is how talent is defined. The use of the word natural is perfectly accurate. Our natural selves at work in the best way. Talents are connections to “home”- from where we came and to where we return again, God’s personal stamp, His calling card that says, “Life will not be easy, honey, but I will give you a way to connect to Me, to feel whole, to feel like every part of you is alive and doing that which you were created to do this time around. Enjoy.”