It’s a little hard to believe, but I’ve got to admit it. I’m a soccer mom. My 13 year old is active – more than active – and on the soccer field. I find that we are traveling across state lines, staying in motel boxes, eating at chain restaurants and living the dream.
Really? Am I really a soccer mom? Why does that thought curl my toes?
How am I going to show up on the sidelines as I begin to realize that we are so much more than we allow? I attend the games and sit on my yoga mat instead of those funky fold-up chairs (receiving the occasional funny glance from other parents) not really in an effort to be different, but merely comfortable. Every so often I try to notice the impressionistic colors of the sky, the morphing shape of the clouds and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I know there are days when I need to have a better attitude about the way I show up on that sideline, as my hope is to make my girls experience different and more conscious than the ones I experienced at their ages. I’m ok with a yellow flag or two or three as they push towards discovering their potential knowing that there really isn’t such a thing as a red flag in life…
So, how am I going to show up?
Not everything that counts can be counted and not everything that can be counted counts. –Albert Einstein
I’m going to try to keep that quote in my head as I’m sitting on the sideline keeping track of the score and remind myself that the lessons she’s learning are much greater than that final game score.
Here’s to the next time and learning not to keep score…