The (real) Winning Moment

I’ve noticed something about the Love we give. Or fail to (whether we’re conscious about it or not).

I’ve noticed that sometimes we get caught up in striving to be great, writing the right words, new ideas, assumptions, and even dwelling on the past… and we tend to forget the simple importance of who we show up to be- today.

I’ve noticed that sometimes we forget that the game we’re actually playing is Love… and that ‘Love’  isn’t really a word- something you just say, or an idea we convince ourselves of. That it’s actually a living, breathing, covered in sweat and dirt and purpose, filled with Joy and smiles too big for our faces- way of being.

Sometimes theres a little too much reliance on the word… and we forget to do. To become it.
We put limits and justifications on it.

On Love.

Like time, money, stress, ‘shoulds’ and ‘some days’— and we end up actually forgetting to show up for it.

We run our own race, worried only about our own exhaustion and out of breath sprint to the finish line, and forget to ever look to our left and right to see how the team is doing.

To see who’s injured.
Who needs water.
Who’s on the brink of deciding this race is too much for them to run…
And who never even left the starting line because they were too scared— and needed someone to run with.

I’ve noticed that there’s a tendency to get caught up in a race, that was never meant to be a race at all.
Races that may have finish lines, yes. But finish lines that always double as another starting line. Which means the only thing that ends up truly mattering when it’s reached- was how we found a way through the exhaustion… where and how we found breath… and who gave us water.

Cause there’s still more distance to run.

So maybe instead of crossing the line first— the winning moment is instead when we took that glance to the left, and glance to the right… and stopped to give life to our teammate.

 I’ve noticed that sometimes people wear the same jersey’s- but often, it’s meaningless. A misconception that that’s what unites and makes a team. As if a color or a word on the front of it is what makes a family. 

I don’t know about you but family looks a lot different for me. It looks a lot more like Love in action. And it has often shown itself in the one’s who stop in their tracks, bring me water, grab my hand to pull me across the starting line- and who have no intention of walking across the finish line, unless I’m crossing with them, too.