Personal space

I’ve been using public transit to get to and from work ever since I started working in downtown Winnipeg, 25+ years ago.  That’s a lot of bus tickets.  I’m realizing that I’ve grown far more aware of my personal space, and perhaps the lack thereof, especially while riding public transit.  I’m just not comfortable being in close proximity with total strangers.  Given the option of standing in the aisle or sitting in a space where my thighs are touching the people next to me, I’ll stand every time.  In my opinion, “cheek to cheek” should refer to dancing with a special someone, not sitting “cheek to cheek” with people I don’t know.

The other day I got on an already full bus in the morning and while standing in the crowded aisle, I had a woman on my left who chose to keep her two large handbags over her shoulder while she was holding on to the bus handrails and simultaneously texting on her phone.  On my other side was a man who placed his duffle bag on the floor at my feet.  The texting woman’s bags were constantly being pressed into my back and I had little room to move away because of the duffle bag at my feet.  That’s just too close for my own comfort.  Thankfully, on an express bus with very few stops, the ride downtown is a quick one.

It was during those uncomfortable moments on that bus ride that I began to wonder if I prefer people at arm’s length in my relationships too.  It’s never been an easy thing for me to initiate relational connections. Obviously there are less chances to be wounded emotionally by another person if you choose not to be vulnerable and open yourself up. 

I do have friends that I don’t mind being “cheek to cheek” with.  Maintaining that circle of personal space with total strangers is one thing, but I know I don’t want to keep the people that I love and enjoy being with at arm’s length as well.    

A Facebook friend of mine happened to post the following C.S. Lewis quote yesterday, which I thought was quite timely and challenging in view of my recent musings on my personal space and relationships:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.  Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.  But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

Volleyball Lessons

The school volleyball season is nearing its end for two of my boys.  Needless to say, it’s been a busy couple of months with one son on the varsity team, and the other playing junior varsity.  But it’s been a good busy.  My leaves aren’t raked yet nor the autumn yard clean-up done, but that will just have to wait ... maybe until spring, depending on when the first snow flies.

In my limited volleyball experience (limited as a parent only, with no playing experience to speak of), I’ve learned a few lessons and made some observations.   

Lesson #1:  It’s really just common sense, but as a spectator, if you want to have a coffee at the game, you need to either be hyper-vigilant, watching in all directions and at all times for waywardly-hit balls, or you need to bring your coffee in a travel mug with a sealed lid.  Just saying ... I've seen my share of spills.

Lesson #2:  Friendships form, as do rivalries.  Sometimes rivals may even become friends once they become teammates.  Keep cultivating those friendships, even when you’re on opposite sides of the net.

My boys have played for their school teams as well as for club teams, which means they’ve had a number of different teammates.    It also means I’ve met a lot of other volleyball parents and made some great friends over the years.

Photo Credit:  Kim Olfert Photography

Lesson # 3:  “Mental toughness” applied to volleyball means shaking off a bad play, a shanked pass, a missed serve, a fumed hit, and re-focusing on the next point. There's no time for wallowing and reflecting on what just happened. Move on right away.  

A few years ago, when our son Brendan started playing club volleyball, my husband made it his personal mission to educate Brendan, and our other sons too, about “mental toughness”.   By the end of that season, I think Brendan probably hated hearing the words “mental toughness”.  But I’m fairly certain he’s thankful for that learned lesson now.

Lesson #4:  Passion is key as a player, but not always healthy as a fan (it is, after all, derived from the word “fanatic”).  A passionate fan can be a great encourager and a spark plug to individual players and to the team as a whole.  Alternatively, a passionate fan who spews negativity is perhaps more of a hindrance than a help.

What kind of fan am I?  What do people hear in my words?   What kind of attitude do I bring to the game?  While I’m passionate about encouraging my boys and their teammates and friends, I’m discovering I have a low tolerance for whiners, poor sports, "hot dogs" and divas.

In a team setting, players have the opportunity to learn sportsmanship, team spirit and cooperation, and respect for authority.  I’m very thankful for many of the coaches my boys have had who have taught them these lessons in addition to their volleyball skills and a love for the game.

Photo Credit:  Kim Olfert Photography