American Unitarian Conference Forum

At a very young age I was introduced to a special new game called ping-pong at the home of a friend.
We spent hours at a time hitting a small white ball back-and-forth, back-and-forth.
We had great fun in seeing how long we could keep the ball going back and forth.
Stopping and beginning again was the order of the day.

All this changed when we were challenged to become Masters of this game.
We were told we were playing the game in the wrong way.
We had to play to win and beat our opponent as fast as we can.

We had to learn the strategy and all the various spins.
There were fast serves and slow serves.
Over spins and under spins,
Fade shots and slams,
Just to name a few.

We were given special paddles to improve our control of the ball.
We were made to practice three hours a day,
in a very ritualized way.

We were told to work, work, work,
to make improvement each day.
Always we were driven to win, win, win.

Gone now is the fun we had playing such a delightful game.
Gone are the hours of enjoyment, that we found being innocent as to the rules of the game.
Always we were driven to become true masters and to win each game.

No more joy!
No more fun!
No more play in the game of ping-pong.

We grew weary of these rules and work.
We put the paddles away.

As I grew older,
I saw that people approached the game of life in the same way.
Losing the innocence that brings joy and delight.

We are trained to only win each day.
What a shame!
What a shame!

With love,

Rev Dorris

Rev Dorris, I LOVE this piece.

Not that I agree with it one bit!

What I love about it is watching the thoughts it evokes in me.....the emotions.....my own internal conflicts that it brings to the surface.

I have a deep ambivalence regarding the subject of excellence. At what cost should it be pursued? How much "fun" is it? Can I pursue it separate and apart from competition, it's "Kissing Cousin"?

I've been thinking about leading a discussion at our local Theosophical Society on Peter Gerlich's (he of Fragmented Pertsonality fame) thought. If I do, I think I will read these thoughts and try to get people to talk about their reactions to them as a way of illustrating internal conflict between Personality States. If other folks feel half the ambivalence towards them that I do, it should spark a WONDERFUL discussion!

Fred

Thanks for your comments Fred.  

If the piece evokes thought and emotions that lead to further discussions and contemplation it has served a useful purpose.  The answers to your questions are well worth pursuing.

Let us know how your discussion group responds, when you use the piece.  I will be reading it in front of a small group tonight also.

Thanks again,

With love,

Rev Dorris

Excellence need not be a matter of competition, who is better than somebody else, or "I'm OK, you're so-so." In music or the arts, drama, hobbies or pastimes, or at work, excellence can be given and shared as it is achieved. In the early 1970's I sort-of "decided" to take up bicycling as a hobby or pursuit, partly because it can be done non-competitively and either alone or with others. I stay away from anything competitive, focusing instead on exercise and fun, seeing how much better I can do than previously, and on what more I can learn. The fun, the joy, and innocence still remain. A goal of mine, after retirement, is to ride across the country, so maybe I'll give you all a high-five on my way through town.

I agree with you that excellence need not be a matter of competition.

To me, excellence is a matter of finding something that you enjoy doing and then doing whatever that is to the best of your ability.

Any task that an individual does, if done to the best of his/her ability, can bring enjoyment and satisfaction.  When I was growing up, my parents where happy if I gave my best effort.  When I raised my children, all I asked is that they do their best.  They knew that when report cards came home, I would ask only one question, "Did you do your best?"  When they would participate in sports, or debate, or even work activities, they knew I would ask, "Did you do your best?"
If they could look me in the eye, and tell me they did their best, I would be happy and satisfied. Excellence was not determined by how I or they compared to others, but only to a self assessment of putting forth our best possible efforts.

With love,

Rev Dorris