When I asked my grade seven class last year how many of them were certain of God’s existence, a few hands went up.
When I asked how many of them tried to bargain favors from God such as “If you get me out of trouble at school, I promise I will NEVER swear again” every single hand went up.
Because we all want to believe that someone who is suppose to have that much power has got our back when we really need it. But if they don’t - for whatever reason - you still have to be okay with it.
In the end, it just doesn’t matter - you gotta go for it anyway.
Kicking shadows is all about figuring out what’s holding you back and then lambasting those negative patterns in the gonads and getting on with life - regardless of what it throws at you.
It’s about finding out the stuff you’re really made of, accessing your core and using it to create an authenticity that cannot be shaken under any circumstances - even those beyond your control.
‘Cuz sometimes, s*** just happens.
Yes, this month is about removing those sinister blocks of self-doubt that plague all human beings (especially when you’ve experienced investing all of your energy into one thing or another - over and over and over again - and it never works out).
I mean, how many times can you give ‘er?
LOTS
Because in the end, it always works out. Just not necessarily the way you imagined.
Just ask any kid who had a stellar high school football career, yet no one picked him up for college because he was “too short” (even though he could bench press more than most guys bigger than him and run the field like he was wearing roller blades).
And when he finally does get to play for a college team (with no scholarship and not for who he imagined), he breaks his foot in the first week of practice. Game over.
Like I said, sometimes, s*** just happens...
...or does it?
I moved to Michigan City, Indiana for love. After a total two year investment, he still couldn't decide whether he wanted me around or not. And that wasn't good enough for me anymore. So I left.
When it didn’t work out, I was broken. I had sacrificed everything to move down there.
I was now also jobless, broke, homeless and had no idea how I was going to make it work. But I had to.
Because my kid was the running back for the Michigan City High School football team.
In our first year in Indiana, Ryan proved to be a real asset, taking me and the whole town along for the joyous roller coaster ride affectionately known as Friday Night Lights.
I lived for those games.
There’s no feeling quite like watching your kid run a 98 yard touchdown and watch as everyone in the stands goes crazy.
Or ask yourself with amazement what kind of angel floats him through a game to the tune of six touchdowns in one of the toughest conferences in the Midwest.
You see… football had chosen Ryan.
And in Indiana, Hoosiers love football the way a Baptist preacher loves God - with unparalleled enthusiasm. And by association, they love the athlete who gives their team hope.
And they loved Ryan. Everywhere he went, people would shake his hand, and comment on his last game. The stands were full, people were having a good time and suddenly there was a lot at stake.
Whether moving to the states was a poor decision or not, the momentum was building. A college scholarship was a real possibility. An opportunity that comes maybe once in a lifetime was readying itself for proper delivery in just two years. All we had to do was hang in there and survive.
Easier said than done.
Because we were broken. You know that dark night of the soul I talked about in the last couple of entries? This was one of deepest and darkest for both of us. I don’t think anyone knew just how bad, except maybe the blessed souls that took us into their homes that first year while I sorted things out.
But it was one phone call that decided it - come hell or high water, we were going to stick it out.
Ryan was back in Canada visiting family for a couple of weeks and I was staying in Chicago with a friend.
I’ll never forget calling him from her porch and hearing his voice crack with worry. And he was sobbing, though he didn’t want me to know. I could hear his brothers in the background swearing that enough was enough! and it was time to come home.
But this wasn’t their dream, it was his.
“The decision is yours Ryan. But before you make up your mind, take a step back and ask yourself: When I’m eighty and look back at this time in my life, will I have any regrets? Can I live with what if...?
After a long, silent pause he said, “F*** it. I’m coming back.”
“Okay then.”
I hung up the phone and fell apart.
It was now my job to find a way for us to survive.
NEXT PART II: Kicking your shadows, lessons from Indiana and givin’ er just one more time - law school
