I’ve been wallowing in “Where am I going with my life?” lately. And it’s not even “What do I want to do?” as much as “What do I want to do next?” I’ve got a mental laundry list of things I’d like to do in life, but no idea where to start.
A few weeks ago I received the typical emails from my son’s school pertaining to his soccer league. I’ve been an athlete most of my life — mainly softball MVP — but also squeezed in a few years of high school soccer. So when the email arrived asking for volunteer parents, I asked my son what he thought about me coaching. He loved it.
“I’ve never coached soccer before,” I explained to him, “Too bad you’re not on the baseball team.” He didn’t care. He was thrilled at potentially having his mom as the coach. So with a bit of anxiety due to a lack of time as well as a relatively dusty soccer memory, I joined.
A few weeks and one coachs’ meeting later I’m knee deep in emails, rosters, snack lists and practice schedules. I’m desperately searching for simplified rules for this league in order to brush-up on terminology and plays. And yet all the while reminding myself that these kids are 7- and 8-year-olds. They’ll hardly be able to nail a corner kick, let-alone know why they have to do it.
I’ve got a steno pad of notes, to-do’s, drill ideas, practice break-downs and notes. I’m having visions of thrilling them all with fun scenarios of bee hives as I explain to them that everyone clustering in a group during play isn’t a good idea — that they should spread out and pass the ball.
Chills. This is fun. This is fun to me. This is fun — not dressing up for a guy I’ve only met online, who has no idea who I am because he only liked my photos and didn’t even bother to read my dating profile but still wants to get together and spend time with me even though he has no idea who I am. This is fun to me — soccer is fun.
This is the epitome of refocusing. After the last few years of severe heartache, I’m getting excited that I may have found a new passion, and it’s not one where I have to hope the guy is mentally stable enough to keep a good thing while he has it. It’s got nothing to do with men — and I love it.
But Im still missing something. I still haven’t made an actual list of goals for my own life. The thought of doing it seems so ridiculous and awkward. Apparently that’s what we’re supposed to do, though. But like I said, it’s not that I don’t know what I want to do — it’s what do I want to do first? … hmm… Looks like it’s going to be coaching.