In my last post I wrote a little about how I’d lost my options.
My option for joining the army seems to be lost due family life but I might still be able to squeeze in a pottery class.
I googled one actually. Friday mornings at 9:30. Hmmmm.
Anyways another thing I seem to have lost is my passion.
I went to the football with my kids today. Well I actually went to the football to meet my Dad and pick up my youngest son who had spent the night at his house.
I used to LOVE watching footy and going to the footy but now I’d rather be at home.
It all seems like a lot of effort and when you get there you are surrounded by a lot of people who seem to think that the game is a matter of life and death.
It’s not for me.
It used to be though.
I used to scream and yell and hurl abuse with the best of them.
Now when the players miss a goal or the umpire makes a bad call I feel sorry for them. They are trying their best. Does that give me the right to berate them. Does paying an entry fee to a sporting event give me the right to boo and hiss?
I don’t know. It doesn’t seem very sporting to complain the whole time. The whinge when the players kick it backward to a team mate but also whinge when they kick it forward and lose possession.
Logic says you can’t have it both ways.
The coffee is bad. The food is expensive and it’s cold.
I used to watch the football with my mum in the pouring rain and hail.
It’s not fun anymore.
I’ve lost my passion for other things too.
I get a little defeated by other people’s talent and forget to try.
I would love to be really good at something but I don’t seem to be.
But hey life is a contact sport.
You gotta roll with the punches and stay in the game.
You’ve got to be in it to win it.
Failure isn’t an option.
Just do it.
Or… don’t I guess.
But maybe don’t let the fear of being mediocre stop you from being happy with trying your best.