if at first you don't succeed, so what

Once upon a time, my mother told me, rather bluntly, that trying was a waste of time. I was a teenager at the time, and I have no idea what the circumstances were, but, as teenagers tend to do, I got mad , and was offended, and asked what on earth she meant by that. Her response was something to the effect of "you'll never get anywhere by trying.When you try, you allow yourself to fail." It gnawed at me for many, many years: the 'fact' that my own mother didn't believe in my efforts. Then one day, it hit me--

I can't get anywhere if I try. Especially if I try really, really hard.

Finally, I understood that there was some truth in what she said. I don't believe one can never get anywhere by trying, but I am beginning to think that with the things one does regularly, frequently, or with an abundance of emotional or physical energy, it is quite possible to muck it up by trying too hard. I've seen it in myself when I run, when I am frustrated, and even when I'm dancing. But these are small things that really only have any bearing on myself. What about when someone else is counting on me? When I need to be patient, it's easier to lose my head and blame it on "trying to be patient" than it is to "be" patient. And yet, the times when I allow myself the luxury of being, the resulting harmony is almost palpable.

Tonight, I watched as a team of young men tried, in unison, again and again. They didn't fail, but the trying was so clear. As the mother of one of those young men, I started to become discouraged--I can only imagine what they may have felt. At the time, I didn't make the connection; even though "they are trying so hard" could be heard throughout the stands. They really were trying with all their might to play well.

I didn't make the connection when my friend told me about her son on that same field who was trying so hard to write his college application essays, and, despite his marvelous use of language in his everyday speech, couldn't make his own voice shine through. Instead of putting 2 and 2 together, I mentioned some of the flaws with the way kids are taught to write, about the need to "make it good" and get it done the first time, or maybe the second. We tossed around some ideas that might help. Although it was on the tip of my tongue, I couldn't quite figure how "trying" applied.

Something changed in the second half of the game. The boys played. They played, and it looked good. There were still things that could have gone differently, plays that didn't go off as planned, but on the whole, they were one united team. They Played, and there was no more talk of them "trying hard" in the stands. It's a subtle difference, and one that not everyone would notice or even understand. I'm so proud of those boys I could burst, but I still didn't make the connection with trying.

It was after the game was done, we'd greeted our boys coming off the field, chatted briefly with other emotionally spent parents, made our way to the car, and even stopped for ice cream that I realized: They stopped trying to play against that team. After half-time, they played because that is what they went there to do, and that's what they do. Our team scored twice against a team easily twice the size. A team that has an O team and a D team, plus what looked like at least one of each in reserve. Most of our guys play both sides of the ball, and many have to be ready to play multiple positions within those parameters. I can't help but be impressed and proud. But truly what awes me is when they just stop trying and play.

I have no idea what the coaches told them, but I know what I have seen. Trial and error is good. Trying new things is good. But when you are about to do something that you know matters to you, just let go and do it. Write your essay, or jot down notes and stick them all over the refrigerator, or record your thoughts and go back later to write them down--exactly the way you've said them. Play your game, trusting that your knowledge, your practice, your perseverance won't let you down. Tackle those dance steps, lead or be lead, and enjoy the movement and the music. Run until you just plain can't anymore. Be yourself. Believe in yourself.

And shine.