Written by Emma Weber
The other day, my friend Aja found film from my very mediocre highschool basketball career. We watched as my poorly bleach-tipped hair bobbed around the court getting into scraps over the ball. We were laughing at how odd it seemed that the person we were watching was a version of myself, a version I grew out of a long time ago.
If I could talk to my younger self, there would be a lot to say. If you asked me at the beginning of my college career, I would have pulled a list of my most embarrassing failures as an itemized itinerary for the conversation. Now, I think I would tell myself the importance of allowing failure to shape but not make my life.
Most of my younger life was spent running from the possibility of failing. My choices were made based on what I knew I could win and what I thought I might lose. I thought this would make me someone important. It was never enough just to win; I had to be a winner. I was also very angry — maybe this was completely unrelated anger, but I think it was a direct result of my outlook on life. How can you find joy in existence if you are constantly worried about where you are ranked?
Existence solely for gaining power is futile. There is no true joy alone at the top of the ladder. I see many people who struggle with this concept. What they want is to matter, but their methods are like a constant scrambling around a basketball court: sometimes effective but overwhelmingly disappointing. People climb corporate ladders to the top but don’t know how to speak respectfully on Facebook. People get the car, house or spouse everyone else wants but cannot look at their neighbor on the street and ask, “What can I help you with today?”
Failure illuminates a lack of control. When I speak without thinking or lose a club basketball game, most of the time I am obviously missing something. High school Emma might have let this defeat define the larger concept of herself as a person, and I might begin to believe losing made me matter less. College Emma knows losing to another social club has no weight if I am having fun with my friends.
The beautiful thing life and basketball have taught me is we always have the power to make things matter. Maybe I will lose every basketball game I ever play for the rest of my life, but it still matters because I am choosing to show up for my teammates. I have fun every time I see my teammate Elizabeth take a three-point shot because I know she is having fun doing it. There is something more important in my life than winning. There are blessings I might miss if I keep worrying myself about the power I don’t have.
I’m not saying I think it’s bad to want to win. Winning can be fun, especially when you have put a lot of work into whatever you are trying. That is the kind of work ethic that should be celebrated. However, it gets dangerous when winning becomes the only thing that matters. Winning for winning’s sake will only perpetuate a belief that you are nothing if you stop having power.
I think my younger self would most need a hug. It would be futile to try and explain to someone obsessed with winning what they are missing out on. I might ask her to play a pickup game of basketball and show her how fun losing can be when you believe in the worth we all have for simply being alive. Obviously, I still get frustrated with those who still hold onto this mindset, but I’m old enough to know the grace I deserved at 16 can be extended to them. It’s all basketball to me.
