Practice

Anthony has his first (on field) practice with his baseball team last night.  It was priceless to see him part of team, playing a game that he loves, filled with excitement and purpose.  He and his teammates warmed up on the field.  They practiced running and catching and listening - and learning what it takes to be part of a team. 

It was a great practice.

Jimmy had his own sort of "practice" last night.  Though it shattered my heart into a million pieces, he practiced dealing with disappointment.   Not to long after we arrived at the field, Jimmy realized he wasn't part of this team.  It was for big kids, and for perhaps the first time in his life, he was excluded. 

It was a tough practice - for both of us.

My first instinct was to try and find a way to include him on the team. 

Can he play, too?  Can he stand in the outfield?  Can he at least sit on the bench?

But the reality we both have to deal with is that sometimes we will experience disappointment.  Sometimes we will have our feelings hurt.  Sometimes we will be excluded. 

My responsiblity - though not my instinct - is to teach him how to deal with this disappointment, sadness, and exclusion, because that is what will make him resilient.  So we practiced that together.  We tried to distract ourselves.  We (literally) removed ourselves from the moment until we had clear heads.  We found other ways to experience joy. 

Chances are, Anthony will have powerful, positive memories of his first practice.  And chances are, Jimmy won't ever remember how sad he was that day, because his memory will be filled with tremendously positive experiences.

But I hope that Jimmy does remember the bigger lesson.  That the world isn't always the way we want it. That we aren't always on the team.  But that we can practice finding joy even in disappointment, and a sense of place even when we are not part of that team.

And I have to practice, too.  I can't fight their battles.  I can't fix every situation.  But I can give them the tools and skills and alternative experiences to help in these moments.

And I'll probably fail at some of my "practices," too.  I'm (most likely) going to put a batting helmet on him.  And let him at least sit on the bench once or twice.  A week.