In the 2024 AFC Divisional Playoffs, the Kansas City Chiefs defeated the Buffalo Bills in Buffalo, 27 – 24. At the end of the game, Chiefs Quarterback Patrick Mahomes skipped like a little kid on the snowy football field. I broke into the biggest smile watching Patrick skip amidst flying snowballs from the distraught Bills fans. Patrick was heading to his 6th straight AFC Championship. Now he’s heading to his 4th Super Bowl in 5 years. He’s won 2. Maybe Patrick Mahomes becomes the next NFL GOAT (Greatest of All-Time) Quarterback. Replacing the GOAT Tom Brady.
What makes Patrick the next GOAT is that he loves what he does and still has fun like a little kid. Patrick is never more alive or self-expressed than when he’s playing Quarterback for the Kansas City Chiefs.
We don’t stop playing because we get old. We get old because we stop playing. Maybe, we stop skipping when childhood ends, when we start taking life way too seriously. Life becomes way too significant. We weigh far more significance upon ourselves. Life is too short to stop having as much fun as we can for as long as we can. Maybe, we can all skip again. Maybe.
I’m 61 years old and I have as much fun as I can for as long as I can. I do what I love for as long as I can, too. I try not to take myself or life too seriously. Still, that takes work. That takes practice. I do what’s fun for me. Do what gives me joy.
As a little boy, I got that whatever fun I had would end abruptly when Dad got mad at me for something I did or didn’t do. Honestly, I never knew which. Still, fun died. Usually, I was crying, too. No skipping from me. I stopped skipping all together when I was about 8 years old. I endured my childhood, rather than reveling in it.
Back then I didn’t get that it wasn’t about playing with my cousins or eating my favorite bento lunch at the zoo that made me happy. Rather, I was the one who made me happy. No one else. I was the source of my happiness. I forgave myself for being young and stupid. Because I was.
After Sunday Aikido practice I told Ishibashi Sensei, “I had fun.” Sensei smiled. He said, “That’s the only reason to do anything.” Amen.
I get my life from Aikido, Ishibashi Sensei, and the late Mizukami Sensei. In Aikido, I enter the attack and take a glancing blow if I have to. I’m not always going to get way scot-free. Whether that’s some dude punching to my face or life veering sideways, I take the glancing blow for what’s meaningful to me. I match up. I make it work.
Ishibashi Sensei says, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” The 250-pound man punches at my head. I wait out the attack. I enter the attack, enter what I fear, and let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. Although my fear inside never completely disappears, I let go more and more of my fear inside. I free me. I end my suffering.
After 35 years of training, I’m Godan (5th degree black belt). I’m a greater person, a greater man for that. I train to be quiet inside me. I take a glancing blow for what’s meaningful to me. I let go my fear inside, instead of holding on to it. I train in Aikido, because it’s fun. Why do anything unless it’s fun? I’m just asking.
Over the COVID-19 pandemic, I made friends with little squirrel Rocky in the park in Torrance. I call him Rocky in homage to Rocky the Flying Squirrel from the cartoon Rocky and Bullwinkle. Yeah, I’m old. Rocky teaches me kindness. I feed him his walnut snacks. I give him kindness. Rocky accepts my kindness and eats his snacks. When the Rock looks at me while he’s eating, I believe he’s saying, “Thank you.” I’m thankful for him, too.
The other day, while heading over to the park to feed Rocky, I skipped to my car. The little Rock reminded me that life is far too short to take anything too seriously, including myself. I have as much fun as I can for as long as I can. I do what I love for as long as I can, too. So I skip when I can. Just train.
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Photo: iStock
