Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that.
We still couldn't find a spot and our game was starting. In a small town in Vermont, today was a rather significant day because of the annual broomball tournament we were there to participate in. Think hockey, but while wearing sneakers, not skates. And instead of a puck, it's played with a mini soccer ball slightly larger than a softball. Oh, and instead of hockey sticks, you use broom handles.
So when Isobel and I, along with our friends Jenny and Kelly, arrived at the event, we were a bit... surprised by the amount of people in attendance. I was never a hockey player, and I can only sort of ice skate (the stopping and the need to quickly change direction always gave me trouble). Still, I'd agreed to play.
"No, look—they're here!"
Marty and the rest of our team were on the ice standing next to a ref who maybe hadn't really believed we were coming. Heads turned as we dropped our stuff by the benches in the snow. Hat, gloves, and hoodie were enough to play, but I was glad I'd packed extra layers for after.
Stepping out onto the ice, I didn't immediately fall over—which I was pretty psyched about. But, later, I did.
A lot.
As the game progressed, I managed to find my feet and more of my balance through a combination of watching the other players and testing how much momentum to throw into a slide. Some players were intentionally gliding into the boards just so they could change direction by pushing off of them like a swimmer after doing a flip-turn.
Ohhhh ok. Smart.
I found myself laughing both when I messed up and when I got the hang of it. While the game carried on around me, I thought about how I spent years opting out of stuff because I'd been afraid of being bad at things. But I felt happy realizing that, somewhere along the way, I'd embraced the joy of being a beginner again.
When's the last time you were a beginner at something?
If you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along. And if something stuck with you while reading, I'd love to know what it was.
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here.