The Well-Worn Sofa

For the past few months, I've had the distinct privilege of playing on a coed, rec league softball team. As it so happens, I've been serving as the team's primary pitcher over the course of the last several weeks. Not to say that I'm an extraordinary softball player. It's not all together uncommon for me to toss a pitch behind the batter... whoopsies; but I am just good enough to retain my spot in this position on a division 4 rec league... at least for now.

There's something quite thrilling about being a pitcher. For one, you're always in the midst of the action. For another, all eyes are on you. In light of this fact, being the pitcher is both terrifying and exhilarating. Both the fans and the players are looking at you to see what you're going to do. Writing this out now, I'm a bit perplexed as to how I perform in this capacity without completely buckling under the weight of self-conscious anxiety. As it so happens, I don't take the games all that seriously and just concentrate on having a good time while I'm on the field. To my relief, a good time is always had.

One thing about being the pitcher that I've really come to appreciate over the course of this season is the team that is just behind me. Over my right shoulder is our shortstop, Pryce. He makes plays. He will more often than not, catch or stop anything that gets by me. He's got an arm on him too and can rocket a ball to first base with the ease and grace of a ballet dancer performing a Rond de Jambe. Far off to my right is Jack. He catches balls in left field and has an arm that can launch a ball from way out in mid-left field, straight to my unswerving glove. I swear if he can't toss a ball 60 yards if not half a mile. Over my left shoulder is Patricia, our second baseman. She cheers me on constantly and encourages me when I'm doing less than my best. She exudes positive energy, and sometimes her smile alone compels me to keep going when I'm in the darkest depths of catastrophic pitching ineptitude. There's our first baseman, Blakely who will always find a way to get completely covered in dirt every game... she's just scrappy. Every play she is a part of; she seems to risk both life and limb — often unnecessarily so — just for the sheer thrill and commitment to the game. I could go on but suffice it to say... my team has my back; I've come to lean into them... as one might lean back into a well-worn sofa.

My Well-Worn Sofa

There are a select few people in my life I can rely upon deeply. My brother comes to mind. Over the course of the last several years our bond has grown, such that we can both be open and honest with each other in a way that I cannot with just about anybody else. From food recommendations to existential dread, and everything in between; my brother Jon has been a soundboard for me, a listening ear, and a compassionate presence that I cherish and have come to rely upon.

I also have my Monday night crew; a group of guys I meet with consistently at the beginning of each week for one beer, conversation, and no agendas. This is a group I've been vulnerable with and who have been vulnerable with me. A handful of these guys have helped me in very tangible ways during some of my darkest adult moments when I didn't have a leg to stand on, figuratively speaking.

There are perhaps one or two others with which I can sit down and converse in a deep and meaningful way. Of all the blessings in my life, I can think of none greater than possessing strong bonds with a select few.

Abundant Grace

I personally have been given so much grace throughout my life. I remember all the way back to when I was a small, shy, reserved child. My Grandpa Joe and Grandma Blonie would see me... not just in the physical sense of the word, but in the existential sense of the term. I always felt held, safe and "at home" in their presence.

I had an uncle... Uncle Neal who had been both a pastor at one point in his life and a member of a motorcycle gang at an earlier stage of his life. I remember him possessing both the tenderness of a teddy bear and the loud presence of gruff, weathered stalwart. He straddled and embodied the two seemingly opposed characterizations better than anyone I've known. I remember being seen by my Uncle Neal. He would ask about me and inquire about my wellbeing with a keen interest, such that I knew he wanted a straight, honest answer. His engagement with me was not to merely pass the time. He had an interest in what I had to say, such that I was compelled to interact with him in a very transparent, thoughtful self-reflective way. Of my Uncle Neal, I remember this: in the midst of a crowded group of relatives, when my tendency would be to fade into the background and enjoy the company of those around me, he would look at me with a tender regard that told me, "I see you and I love you."

The best portion of your life will be the small, nameless moments you spend smiling with someone who matters to you. ~ Ritu Ghatourey

Considering the amount of grace I have been given in my life, I would be remiss to not mention the monumental amount afforded me by my parents, who I know, pray for me on a daily basis to this day. I have been held by my mom and my dad in every sense of the word to varying degrees throughout the full extent of my life.

I'm realizing now as I type that attempting to speak about the grace I've been afforded throughout my life is a fool's errand. I've made so many catastrophic mistakes and have failed on so many occasions. The friends and family I now have — who have stood by me, despite my failings — are wholly undeserved.

Honest Transparent Connection

Thinking back on my own "Well-Worn Sofa", and the abundant grace that has been afforded me, I feel compelled to make myself available to those who might need a "well-worn sofa" themselves; for I have discovered that life is hard, and it is best experienced when the bleeding, scary, trembling, catastrophic moments are shared openly and honestly with someone you can trust. I can think of no greater gift I have given to another human being than a listening ear, and the warmth of compassionate presence.

I am richly blessed to have been given a handful of instances in my life where the space between my soul and another became sacred... when, for a brief few moments, we saw each other plainly, and there existed a period of both understanding and being understood.

If you were to ask me what I wanted out of life, it wouldn't be fancy cars, a house, a prestigious job, or any of the normal trappings of modern life... it would be more moments like the one I've described above... Moments where the natural pull of corporate, commercial enticements are properly ignored; and the raw, grounded, visceral story beats of human struggle are laid out honestly, wrestled with and discussed openly among trusted confidants.

Looking at the life I've lived thus far, I can say without hesitation, I have always had and continue to have a solid team right behind me. Their investment in me, compel me to pay it forward.