On hot summer days, a memory that wasn't so fond was my dad either watching or listening to baseball. I hated it, to say the least. It meant that the TV would be tied up with the most boring thing in the world, a baseball game. It took hours and back then the hours dragged on so slow like they needed someone to manually push them along and I didn't have the strength. On those baseball days our house was filled with the sound of one male voice competing with another, spitting out stats and telling stories as they waited for the action to interrupt them. Why was this called entertainment when you did nothing but sit, sit sit, and listen , listen, listen. in the house, in the car on long trips on the radio always with bad reception? I wondered how my dad could enjoy the sound of scratchy static. It made me car sick. I could hear Harry
Caray in my dreams screaming "hey, hey that's a base hit". Oh what a nightmare. Needless to say baseball days had a negative affect on me.
I grew out of my disdain over time as I enjoyed when I finally could be an asset on the Moore kid's baseball team. I even played a couple years of high school softball, but I never found joy in watching any form of it on TV or listening to it on the radio. Something wonderful happened around 17 years ago. My husband was given third base-line seats to a Chicago Cubs game. There we were, excited amongst the massive crowd, dress in our team colors that one could see blanketed all around us. We had our Chicago style hot dogs and Cokes and were ready for a fun-filled afternoon. I didn't have high expectations because of my childhood disconnect with watching baseball so I was prepared to just enjoy the company of my husband as he enjoyed the game. To my shock and utter surprise, I loved it. The ambiance took me in: the energy of a well-wishing crowd compelling me not to miss a thing, the smells of delicious high calorie food, the sounds of cheers, claps and corporate singing, and the cool refreshig breeze coming off of Lake Michigan rushing in to see the first baseman hit a homerun. I was sold. This was my new happy place, but I never would have known that this could have such an affect on me if I'd never went to a live baseball game. It was exhilirating but at the same time peaceful. I must admit however, watching it on TV just doesn't have the same charm; but I will sit down and watch a few games here and there.
Here's what I learned. It is easy to take negative or perceived negative experiences from our past and allow them to dictate how we currently live. What are we missing when we do this? Although my experience with baseball may seem trivial, the message is of great importance. We are born into the world loaded with a capacity for greatness, yet we must continue to explore new adventures without fear, without prejudice, without resevation. As you travel life 's journey travel light, learning from the past but living in the present exploring new ground. And Oh what a glorious future that awaits the one who has courage enough to try something new.