A NEW DOOR OPENS
I am dribbling a basketball as I run with it to my side of the court. Then I stop suddenly and shoot for the hoop. But as the ball leaves my hands, I begin to rise up also. We both go toward the basket, but while I frantically reach out and grab the outside rim, the ball just bounces off the edge and then hits the ground. An opponent catches it and begins to run, and the crowd jumps up and cheers.
As I hang for dear life, I watch the game for a few minutes, still devastated and in shock over my predicament. But gradually, I begin to feel stronger and start to lift myself up on the rim of the basket like a gymnast would do. As I continue to watch the other team rack up more and more points, I grow more and more frustrated (and angry) because EVERYONE has run over to the other side, and all eyes are now on the other players. Everyone is cheering them along, and I have been cast aside and completely forgotten.
Eventually I manage to pull myself up, however, and with the strength of my own knees, I am finally able to stand up on the rim of the basket. Initially, I am proud of my courage in taking this first step. But just as I am patting myself on the back, I make the mistake of looking straight down and am sickened by how far I might fall and how HARD the ground looks. I begin to shake and am embarrassed when I have to grab the backboard for moral support. As I regain my strength, I start to look around and become irritated when I see that no one has looked my way at all. This bothers me at first, but then I decide to show them a thing or two and begin to walk the rim as if it’s a tight rope and I am a circus performer. I am amazed when I get completely around it without falling, so I do it again and again. As I gain more confidence, I begin to venture out and try even fancier moves like cartwheels and somersaults.
While I am doing all these acrobatic stunts, I am constantly looking over at the others hoping they will notice me and hoping to impress them. But not one looks my way even once. I just can’t believe they don’t see me doing all these amazing things, but they don’t … and after a while, I finally stop caring. It no longer matters to me whether they watch me or not, and I begin to have fun all by myself. I am no longer scared and am now concentrating only on these new talents I have discovered. I am so surprised that I can do this because I never thought my upper body was very strong or that my balance was that good. I had never even tried to do a cartwheel before, and now I am doing them on the top of a basketball hoop of all places. Who knew?
I am so blown away by this new experience that I am no longer even following the game or even concerned that the other team is winning. But just when I begin to focus on a new stunt to try, I hear someone yell “Look at her over there” and I see a man pointing at ME. Several come running up then and watch as I continue to do more tricks. In a very short time, this group around me begins to grow larger, and while some are still intent on watching the game, there are just as many on MY side now applauding me and what I am doing. Not wanting to disappoint them, I continue on for a while until I grow too tired and then ask if someone could please help me down. Several run for a ladder, and soon I have more than enough people helping me. I don’t recognize any of them, but they seem friendly and nice. They look different from the friends I had when I was playing basketball, but they are excited about what I am doing now and are asking me a lot of questions.
As I leave the arena, I look back for just a moment to see the final score of the game. As I suspected, the opposition has won by a landslide and there are reporters and fans surrounding the star players. For just a second, I feel a stab at my heart because I know I lost that game and that my basketball career is OVER. Also, I have a fleeting worry that some of my former teammates (and fans) are laughing at me now, remembering the image of me hanging from that basket like a fool. But just as I start to feel sorry for myself, one of my new friends asks if I have any plans for dinner. I hesitate at first because I would prefer to eat with my old team and go out like we always did after a game. It would be so much more comfortable and relaxing to go to the same restaurant, order the same favorite food and have the same conversation about the same people like we always had. That’s what feels like “home”, and those are the ones that feel like “family”. I don’t know these new people at all, and what would we talk about?
But then I remembered that the ones I thought were my “family” had abandoned me an hour earlier. When I was desperate and needed them the most, they ALL ran to the side that was winning and left me all alone to fend for myself. I also started thinking of how GREAT I felt and how strong I became those moments when I was all alone and tried to do something I had never tried before. So then I decide that the decision whether or not to join this new friend for dinner is easier than I thought. As one door closes, another door opens.
Copyright © 2014 (Michelle Parsons, Getting Back on Your Path). All Rights Reserved.
