The season begins

For the past two days I have watched Reagan and Alyse play sports as their respective seasons are beginning.  They each are taking on a new experience.

Reagan is now playing volleyball and Alyse is running cross country.  And so I was inside a noisy gym on Tuesday night and outside on a green sports  field last night. Neither girl was especially thrilled that I was there and did not really give me eye contact.  I watch them in their vulnerability and their awkwardness as Reagan at times flinches when the ball comes to her and Alyse drags herself around the field almost walking at times.

And I remember playing sports myself (field hockey)  in the fall and the times when I sat on the bench and watched others play and then got in and struggled to keep up.  That is part of it.

But I also remember breathing in the air on an autumn afternoon, the fun of being part of a team, riding on the bus with my friends and playing hard.  After Alyse's race, she was out of breath and pink faced and I hope, satisfied. I remember that feeling as well.

And in retrospect I remember (not realizing it at the time, of course) that every week I was getting better: developing skills, learning unconsciously where the ball was going to be, getting stronger and faster.So I watch these girls and am so happy to see them on the  court and on the  field.  Happy to see them trying something new and challenging.

And as I write this I wonder if there is an invitation to me to take a risk to enter into my  new season.  To begin some brand new activity?
To risk looking vulnerable and awkward ?
To  trust that over time, I will get better and comfortable?

I wonder.