Last year I was at my son’s track meet in Lake Oswego, Oregon. It was a beautiful Spring day. I remember looking down at all of those absurdly fit young people feeling fairly confident I was never in shape like that…and supremely confident I never will be at this point. And I was just struck at their energy and also at how likely oblivious they were to just how amazing the moment they were living and how unaware I am so much of the time. There were several heats before my son ran. When my son wasn’t running I would sometimes watch what was going on and sometimes focus on my work. One race demanded my attention and changed me.
The race started out as any typical 400 meter does with the kids staggered such that they all would wind up running the same amount. I ran the 400 when I was in school. Most of what I remember about it is how it seemed WAY too long to be a sprint but was also too short to get away with jogging. And I remember hating being on the inside lane where I couldn’t see people behind me or on the outside lane where it felt like I was starting off behind.
The gun went off. The kids ran. The crowd was mildly into it- mostly parents cheering their kid on probably. And then these young gazelle-like boys in the lead pushed themselves to the max. Three finished fairly close and I couldn’t tell who won. The rest of them finished just behind in a group. Everything happened like it normally did…until it didn’t. All of a sudden the crowd all around me and on the field began to roar. People started to rise in the stands. I found myself standing up in confusion not knowing what was happening.
And then I saw him.
And then I saw this boy with extremely thick glasses, Down syndrome features, and he was clearly struggling just to keep going. I thought the race was over and realized the only important moment was just unfolding. The kids who finished first? They ran back and surrounded this boy- cheering him on, running with him, clapping for him. The crowd was deafening at this point. And the boy’s face just lit up and he started to move a little faster. And when he finished the place erupted. Tears streamed down my face. I had just seen what we are capable of when we are at our very best.
He didn’t come in first. Or second. Or third. He wouldn’t be given a medal for his time. He did something more important than running faster than everyone else: he worked harder. He kept going when he clearly felt like giving up? And those boys who ran back to help? They reminded me just how important emotional support really is. And they all won that day. They all won.
Recently, someone close to me had to make a very hard and painful decision to end a relationship with someone she cared about very much. He is a good man- kind, loving, and supportive. But for a variety of reasons it was also not a relationship she believed had much of a future. One of the hardest things for her is the idea of ending relationships. She is an extremely kind and caring person and hates the idea of hurting people. But she knew what she needed to do. We talked about how she was feeling and how and when she might want to have this conversation. It was clear to me this was about the last thing she wanted to do.
And then, one night, it happened. They started talking about the future, and with a courage I’m not sure she fully knew she had they found an honest and loving way to agree to end the current form of the relationship and move forward as friends.
One of the great lies we are taught to believe growing up is that we have to choose between being honest and being loving. Often there were adults in our lives with a fragile sense of themselves and they would ask us questions like did we like the pie they made or did we like the gift that they gave us. And even when we were very, very young we knew that with some of these people if we were honest we could expect to see disappointment or even anger wash over this person’s face. To them we weren’t just not thrilled about the pie or the gift- we were rejecting them as people somehow. And so we started a long journey of believing we had to choose between being honest and telling people how we really feel and asking for what we really need…or we could bury our real feelings and move against our own hearts putting on a smile and pretending out of the false idea that we were being loving.
Growth, real growth begins when we make a conscious choice to tell the truth about our thoughts and our feelings, even when we suspect what we have to say will be hurtful at first. Few things are worse than living a lie thinking we are somehow protecting others. We aren’t protecting them- we are only moving against our own souls and not giving them the respect of believing they are capable of hearing hard things such that they can make their own choices based on what’s really happening for us.
On Doing the Impossible
Friday afternoon track meet sitting in
the bleachers looking at the strength
of sixteen knowing they don’t know
what they have
when the gun fires. The four
hundred begins and lean, muscled bodies
hurtle down the track- life distilled
down to heart
breath and body. Feet pounding to
finish line, crowd clapping and cheering
caught in this parade of the
power and the
glory of youth when something shifts.
The race seems over but now
the noise grows louder. Everyone rises
to their feet
and I see him. He struggles
to just keep going, his body
fighting him every step of the
way. But he
does not stop. Others Join now
running with him, behind him, beside
him lending their strength to his
will. His smile
now brighter than the sun. Until
he is done. His race finished.
His joy complete. Evanescant pride radiating
from his face
tears running down mine, caught up
in his delight. He did not
run faster. He worked harder. And
his the win.
I see you. After the real
conversation you did not want to
have, your sadness over an ending
you did not
want, but had to be. You
leaned into it. Your whole being
resisting you, every step of the
way, but you
Did not stop. You felt me
there and said just what you
needed to say in the only
way that was
right for you. You may not
smile much today or tomorrow. You
will in the time to come
because now you
know you can do what seemed
impossible. You do not have to
choose between love and honesty. You
never will again.