Boys Ruin Everything, Even Meditation #SOLC15 - 3/26

Be still and know

That you are good.

Sit back,

Close your eyes,

and Breathe.


Breathe in,  know that it's okay

Breathe out, to not be perfect.

Breathe in, it's okay

Breathe out, to not be okay.


Breathe in, know that the bad things

Breathe out, they'll all go away.

Breathe in,

         ...some day...

Breathe out.


There is passion,
                            and there is Peace.
There is strength,
                            and there is Serenity.
There is power,
                            and there is Wisdom.
There is victory,
                            and there is Harmony.

               There is Life.
                           

"So take a new grip with your tired hands and stand firm on your shaky legs.  Mark out a straight path for your feet."

You can do this.  Don't think it, feel it.
Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.
You can do this.


Alright, so I borrowed a little here, a little there.  If you didn't know, throwers are a bunch of basket cases.  Probably all athletes... probably all people, at that.  Something happens to these kids.  They step into the ring, take a breath, and then, it happens.  You can see it.  They start to think.  Damn.

Now, I typically encourage thinking.  It's a great thing, especially in the classroom.  Not so great in the ring.  They start to think about messing up, all the things they do wrong, how they can fix it RIGHT NOW before they throw.  Think about who's watching, who isn't watching, why are they/aren't they watching?  What if I don't do well?

SHUSH!!  SHHH!  Stop thinking!  Relax, little buddies.  You've been doing this for weeks/months/years.  You're fine.  Let your body do the work and tell your head to shut it. This year we've been practicing being a little more "zen" and throwing like it's fun.  It's not exactly working yet ... but we're trying.

Sadly, their current mantra goes like this, "I am a strong, independent, black woman, and I don't need no man!  This one's for Katie."
I don't know.  Don't ask me, because I don't know.  Somehow, my zen message has gone horribly askew.  Leave it to teenage boys.