“Who are you playing for?” she kept asking.
Her question was on point.
I didn’t like my answer.
She had talked about Saturday morning volleyball 2s for months.
Four courts. Winners stayed and losers were off. The goal was to get to Court 1.
Scheduling conflicts never allowed me to play until this past Saturday.
I have been playing for more than a year now. My skills improving and confidence growing.
I was ready to take on Saturday morning 2s.
It was time for Bret Burchard to show up on the scene.
We won a couple games but I didn’t play so well.
Passes were erratic. Sets off the net. No solid spikes.
We made it to Court 1, facing the usual holders. I have played him before and all I ever want to do is block one of his power hits and spike one in his face.
He served every ball to me. Outside. Inside. Short. Long.
My heart was pounding. My muscles were tightening.
I tried to breathe through it but couldn’t relax.
Then I tried to power through it, my disposition devolving to cuss words and outbursts.
I was defeated.
Not by Robert.
Flow was elusive.
Removed from the courts, I know precisely my flow blocker.
The competition was different from our normal Tuesday night crew.
I wasn’t as familiar. And they didn’t know me.
When I don’t feel special or unique,
I withdraw and hide (“No, let’s just play on Tuesdays.”)
or power up and prove (“Spike it harder in his face!”)
Internally I didn’t feel like I had a place in this group.
I felt the need to impress rather than just show up with my gifts and impact.
This will always be my kryptonite. Playing sand volleyball, at work or in relationships.
If I’m not aware of it, I will repeatedly self-sabotage or never step out to the next great leap.
Aware of it, I can take steps towards recapturing that flow.
This is learning.
This is growing.
Are you aware of your kryptonite?