A world without sportscasters

Listen to those commentators. There they go again, analysing every move on the field, filling our heads with past stats, future prognostications, arcane fluff. In some goofy way, they think they control the game, but there’s only one problem with that:

They aren’t playing.

They can’t describe the smell of the turf, the fear of failure, the excitement of a good pass or the exhilaration of winning. They weren’t there… they only imagined they were. Only the players on the field can do that, and usually their experience of the game can’t even be put into words.

Remember the fun of actually playing sports on the field? There is none of that constant analysis going on in your mind. There’s just this wonderful feeling of aliveness, the thrill of play.

That’s something we lose when we give our lives to our minds. We trade being a player for being a sportscaster. We live in the future and the past… always trying to figure out what’s going to happen and what shouldn’t happen… and lose the capacity to actually experience — and appreciate! —What Is Happening.

Look at a bird without mental chatter. You’ll realize that you’ve never really seen one before… in all its aliveness. In the way it turns its head just so, or flies effortlessly through the branches. Or the way the wind plays on a field of wheat, or how the shadows of clouds move gracefully across open valleys. Aliveness is everywhere, but we can’t see it… when we’re listening to the sportscasters. They aren’t there, they’re only imagining they are.

“An interpreted world isn’t home.” —Hildegard von Bingen (Christian Mystic)

That’s because the mind is not interested in aliveness. That’s just a sportscaster, way up in the booth, thinking he’s safe, that he controls the world, trying to tell us what’s coming next… as if 1) he knew, and 2) it mattered.

Aliveness is the only thing that really matters, friends. Come down on the field and grab you a handful!

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