I’m coaching my son’s soccer team again this year. Last night I went to the first coaches’ meeting of the season. There were about 25 coaches there.
Five were women.
Some of the men are coaching two or even three teams. Clear indication that more coaches are needed and that there is ample opportunity for more women to volunteer.
I coached my wife’s all-women roller derby team for two years. There are five teams in the league. At one point they were all coached by men.
What. The. Hell?
When I first coached soccer more than 20 years ago in California this gender division existed. Why does it still exist? I have ideas—they encompass personal, cultural, and social dimensions—but I don’t think they’re sufficient enough to be an answer. I don’t think any answer is sufficient. I do know that both genders are responsible.
“Blah, blah, blah, inspirational stuff, blah, blah, deep stuff, blargh.”
I’ve just decided that my words here will reflect my whole person—the dark, contrarian, paradoxical, all of me. The nature poet, the death metal songwriter, the short storyist, the undisciplined novelist, the dad, husband, lover, dreamer, wanter, needer, hater, photographer, pornographer, philosopher, pugilist pacifist, fasttalker.
Because just presenting the shiny side is inauthentic. And boring. Not a fan of boring, really. More a fan of the real, the possible, the improbable, and the unknown.
Adversity is a sexy cruel bitch.
It all connected and flowed—the scenes, the characters, the story and the plot, the little details—and coalesced into a compelling narrative in a way that was frictionless.
Several people I follow on Instagram are visiting London right now. Their images make me heartsick for a city I lived in just long enough to fall in love.
My mind is full tonight with the many thoughts of today, which were generated by a complete absence of technology, a full and complete being-with my children, and a deep immersion into the challenging beauty of nature. From these thoughts great things might happen. I will work to see that they do.
Begin with the first stuttering start. Over time, they become, for good or ill, part of my being-in-the world. Consciously or unconsciously I develop habits based on my daily actions. For good or ill, those habits delimit my actions and my potential.