On The Sidelines

I find myself sitting on the sidelines, watching as the game of life is played out before me. Players of all shapes and sizes. All playing the game a little differently.

 Some seem lost and confused not sure what game they have stumbled into, just following and imitating the other people around them. Clueless, but not wanting to show it. Wanting to win this game but not even sure what or how they're supposed to be playing.

Others are more direct. Sprinting across the field knowing exactly how to play, and thinking that they have the best strategy and skill set to win. They are forceful and ruthless, demanding the attention of every spectator and player on the field.

There are some who take their time with the game. Drawing it out. Stopping to feel the breeze and pick the wild flowers that border the field. They play the game when they feel up to it, but most of the time they'd rather be on an adventure off somewhere else.

Then there's me. I long to be a part of this game just like everyone else.

"Put me in coach! I won't mess up this time, I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep Campbell! I'll put you in when you're ready."

But will I ever be ready? Is anyone ever ready to be thrust into this confusing and disappointing game? A game that no one can truly win?

I see coach eyeing me. Then with a nod he gestures for me to join the game.

I panic. The earlier complaints, and annoyance is gone. I can't join this game. I don't even know who I am yet. I can't just fend for myself out there along with the rest of the world. I still need practice and coaching. I'm too small, too insecure, too empty to contribute to this game. I'll be trampled and left behind.

Coach is getting impatient and I know that if I don't go now, I may never get the chance again.  I will not spend the rest of my life on the sidelines. I will play this game in my own way, on my own terms. I square my shoulders and with false confidence walk to the edge of the field.

Something deep inside me twists and begins to bloom as I take a deep breath and  sprint into the game, never once looking back. But if I did I would see the imprints of my shoes still visible in the grass on the sidelines.

The kind of sad that just takes time

“She wasn't bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.”-Perks of Being a Wallflower 

"The kind of sad that just takes time." 

Eight words

One sentence

It reminds you that it's okay to be sad. 

Seasons of sadness come and go. 

Some are so fleeting that we don't even notice them.

Others stay a while to remind us to be happy and hopeful. 

Throughout my life I have come to understand this quote. This principle of sadness has become a part of me. It has taught me that being sad isn't a bad thing. Just don't lose hope, because a hopeful kind of sad is the kind that shapes us and makes us better than what we were before.