I was thinking the other day about what I miss most about life outside of the home. I mean, I can go outside now, I have a futon on the back porch so I get fresh air and sunshine (which is HEAVENLY mind you). We have a yard full of trees, so I get the breeze and the leaves and the cherry blossoms. I love it.
And honestly, the few times I’ve gone out, I get sensory overload pretty fast so it’s not all that enjoyable. So what do I miss so much?
*** Got a minute for a laugh? Vulnerability time. ***
I had a memory from about 15 years ago. I was living in Southern California, with some guy I was dating, and not thrilled about it. I wanted my own space, my own peace, the relationship wasn’t going anywhere and I was obsessed with the best and kindest way to exit Stage Left. I was also pretty broke at the time so in a moment of exquisite wisdom I decided that rather than making my auto insurance annual payment, I would instead “save” the money and put it towards a deposit on my new apartment. I’d have the money to get car insurance again in two weeks when I got my next paycheck.
You can kinda see it coming, can’t you? Oh, I loved that car.
Found an apartment. Squirreled away my pennies. The morning that I woke up ready to sign my new lease before work… and my car was nowhere in the parking lot. Stolen. For reals. You’ve never heard such a loud internal shouting session with oneself. Especially as my caring boyfriend offered that I could use his vehicle until we got it straightened out.
Great. Now I also feel like a jerk.
Two days later I get a call while I’m at work that he’s throwing all of my stuff out of the apartment into the lawn. Apparently I had been logged into my email on our “joint home computer” and he saw the new lease.
No money. No car. No house. No boyfriend.
I rented a U-Haul truck with the last money I had at 10am, drove to his house and got my stuff. There was a lot of shouting and neighbors staring while I packed my meager possessions to take to a storage unit. As I unpacked I was careful to set up the furniture more like a living room than a storage unit. My couch was in the middle of the room and would work for me to sleep on without too much trouble.
Then, after all that, I had to go back to work. I worked in a professional office, business suit dirtied and tattered by the dusty boxes.
My life had crumbled over the course of a few hours. I was alone in California. No family. Few friends yet. I’m sure I looked a wreck, sweaty from moving boxes and furniture in the sun, tear stained, exhausted. To my horror, the CEO called me into his office and asked me what the hell was going on?
Of course, me being me, I burst into tears, unable to contain the emotion of the day. I’ve never been good at controlling tears when I’m stressed. I sat there for a shamefully long time, crying and dripping snot, telling all of my failures to this man that I admired so much. I made bad financial decisions, bad love decisions, and now I had nothing and didn’t know what to do. (it’s all quite dramatic when you’re 21).
At the end of my long, sad, shameful story, I hesitantly looked up to make eye contact and receive my lashings. I was ready for his disdain, disapproval, maybe I would even be fired for my lack of judgement. But you know what? He laughed. He laughed long and hard, until his face was red and he was breathing hard. And you know what he told me?
He said, “Clover, at least you’re out on the court. No one can ever say that you sit the sidelines of life”.
I think that was quite possibly one of the kindest, most tender moments of my life. He gave me compassion for my mistakes and errors and encouraged me to embrace life rather than beat myself up anymore than I’ve already done. He bailed me out. Turns out we had a corporate apartment for out of town guests which I was welcome to stay at for the next month. They would also be willing to make the down payment on a new dependable car as a bonus. Angels were all around me that day.
Funny, when you can’t get up anymore, you can’t leave the house, you can’t make nearly as many mistakes. It’s harder to live on the court, when you can’t leave the house. That’s what I miss most. Laughter and dancing, people, commotion, mistakes, and fierce emotion. I’m ready for that.
Create it. Your Sunshine Life – Get your ass on the court. It’s ok to make mistakes. Just keep going.
1 thought on “Live It. Get on the Court.”
Thank you! A great message!