BABY STEPS
My dream growing up was to become a major league baseball player. Despite my love of the game, I just wasn’t good enough make the cut when I tried out for little league. It was winter and the ground was covered with snow. I went into my cold, wet, musky basement, took a piece of chalk and drew a batter’s box. My mind told me it wasn’t really worth it. How much better would I get by throwing a ball ten feet? I didn’t let the negativity win. I decided to get a notebook and every day keep track of how many pitches out of 100 landed in that batter’s box. I visualized myself pitching in a little league game and striking out the side. As my arm got stronger and stronger, the ball would fly back at me at frightening speeds. There is nothing like a hard baseball ricocheting toward your teeth to get you to quickly learn how to catch. As part of my self-preservation, my reaction time was getting better and better. I began getting closer and closer to the wall. Throwing the ball as hard as I could and seeing if I could react. I could catch anything that was hit or thrown my way and I knew it.
I went into that basement intending for one thing and came out with something else. I thought I would build arm strength. I instead began to build mind strength. I understood that it is the doing that matters. Nothing happens without action. If I decided the basement was too wet, too small or too scary, I wouldn’t have grown. I wouldn’t have learned that there is a key to any door you want to open that already exists within your mind.
Soon, throwing at the wall wasn’t enough. I needed to become a better hitter. I took my bat into the basement. I began taking 100 swings every day. Visualizing the ball sailing over the fence for my first ever home run. Rounding the bases as my Mom and Dad clapped along with all of the other parents. One day when I was practicing, I started to hear a noise I had never heard. It was the whoosh of the wind as the speed of my bat sliced through the heavy basement air. I went from 100 swings to swinging until my hands were blistered. I wanted my family to hear the whoosh from upstairs. That became my new goal. To swing so hard, that my family could hear it from another floor.
The spring arrived and it was time for little league tryouts. I was ready! During the tryout I did everything I visualized. I crushed the ball. I made perfect throws. I fielded everything hit my way. Yet I still didn’t make a team. I was devastated. How could my best still not be good enough? I began to find reasons. I wasn’t friends with the coach’s kids. I wasn’t tall enough. They already knew who they were picking ahead of time. My feelings were hurt. My ego was bruised. I wanted to give up. My Dad saw that I was upset and told me to take it out on the ball. This is still something I do today. When I feel like things aren’t going as planned, I dig my heals in even harder. This is perseverance.
For the kids that didn’t make it in little league, they had something called minor league. Anyone could play minor league. Kids quickly became too afraid to pitch to me. I was hitting the ball too hard for them to catch at that level. I had finally tasted success. Even though I was good enough for little league, this is exactly what I needed. I needed to taste success. To see my growth against the same competition that used to be at my level. You may think you’re ready for something, but this is another great lesson. The universe may need to still teach you something before you get your shot. That way, when you do get the shot, you will thrive.
Every single time you are faced with an obstacle, use it to your advantage. All adversity is an opportunity for growth. You’re naturally going to be disappointed. Don’t be hard on yourself for feeling those thoughts of sadness and rejection. Just don’t live in that emotional space. Use every single rejection as fuel to make it impossible for anything to hold you back. That’s exactly what I did in the minor leagues. After I was done feeling sorry, I started taking it out on the ball. I was not only taking it out on the ball in the minor leagues, I was also pitching and cruising my way to win after win. It wasn’t long before I got the call and went on to play little league.
Becoming a pro and playing for the Red Sox wasn’t in the cards, but that basement and the game of baseball taught me something about myself. I could accomplish big things if I worked hard and visualized positive results. So much joy came out of that entire process. Working hard at something and seeing results is one of the greatest gifts you can receive. Showing up can be difficult, but when you do, the results will come. Learn to respect and enjoy the journey as you move one foot in front of the other toward your goals. Even small steps will eventually lead you to your destination.
I went from not being able to make a little league team, to being a bench warmer to eventually being the MVP of my high school baseball team. In my junior year I batted .615, which led the entire state of Massachusetts. I went on to play in college, but never made it to the pros. I did however hit that home run at Fenway. In 2012, the Red Sox had such a terrible year, that they invited a few lucky fans to take 5 swings at Fenway Park. When I was 39-years old, on my fifth and final swing, I sent a ball flying into the right field seats as my family cheered from the sideline. My vision had been realized.
SUMMARY
*Show up for what you want. Keep moving your feet forward. Taking small steps can lead to a great distance over time.
*Use visualization to reach your goals. Don’t just picture what you want. Feel what it is like to have what you want.
*Avoid creating obstacles. Fear and anxiety will often help our minds to create obstacles which encourages us to give up. Don’t create obstacles. Use your energy to find solutions.
*When something is frustrating you, take it out on the ball. Pour your energy into whatever it is you want. Use the frustration in a positive way by burning that energy to create the future you want.
