The Sight of the Stars...

Today's Question for the Reader:

What is one place or time in your life that you enjoyed or loved so much that, if given the chance, you would immediately go back to do it all again?



Time Flies...


It's official. I left my Indiana home 4 Thursdays ago. I have already been living in Åland for one month. Can you believe it? I'm having a hard time believing it myself. It doesn't seem too long ago that I woke up early one January morning to find that I had an email confirming that a team, called Åland United, was going to offer me a contract to play professional soccer in Finland. I immediately ran back to my parents' room to tell my mom and then jump up and down with her in excitement while our dog barked and leaped at our feet. I then texted my brothers (in spite of the fact that it was only 7:00 AM Chicago time) and paged my dad to interrupt the surgery he was performing. Paging my dad at the hospital is a rarity in my family. He deals with life and death every day, so while he's working, my mother only contacts him if it's something very important:

"Ben needs an appendectomy."

"Aaron blew out his other knee today in a soccer match."

"Becca needs stitches again. It's her hand this time."

"David needs his neck X-rayed. I think it's broken."

Given our family's paging history, if my dad receives one from home, he always calls back immediately, slightly nervous to hear the report. This particular January morning, a nurse held the phone to his ear while he executed bypass surgery and I exclaimed, "Dad, it's happening! I got a contract! I'm going to Finland!"

He quickly laughed. "That's great Bec! I gotta' go now! I'll call you when I'm done!"

He called me just after he scrubbed out to share in the excitement and hear the details.

From there, I did everything I could to get ready for my journey to this small island, which I had never heard of, to play soccer once again. I hadn't been on a soccer team since my last season with the Boilermakers in the fall of 2006. Yes, I had kept in decent shape--taking long, leisurely jogs, bouncing up and down on the elliptical, and playing pick-up soccer here and there. But now, I had less than three months to get ready and put my body back in the place it once was where I could get on the line to run countless sprints and squat 200 lbs in the weight room. Every day brought me closer to my departure, and I was beginning to find it difficult to sleep due to the overwhelming excitation and nervousness I felt in anticipation of getting another round at soccer. I had realized in its absence, more than ever, that it was my passion and main source of personal identity. I had thought that my soccer career was over. Suddenly, I was back to being Becca the Soccer Player.

And now, here I am, one month into this adventure, and all I can do is marvel at the fact that time flies.

But wait, I don't want time to fly. I've been here one month already!? But that means I only have six left! Only six more months as Becca the Soccer Player on this gorgeous island teeming with fun loving and happy people. I'm falling in love with Åland a little more every day and though it sounds strange, I'm already saddened by the fact that in six months I will leave. Because time flies, and six months just isn't that long. And then what? Do I have to grow up? Make life decisions? Choose a career that can't possibly be as fun as playing soccer? Settle down? And *gulp* get married?

Okay, I know I won't have to do all that the minute I return (and I should throw in here that there are a lot of people and things back home that I will be happy to see again). But these are all things that people in their 20's are concerned with, right? Face it, we're not children any more. At some point, we have to make commitments. But here, in Åland, all those concerns--those frightening, heavy topics, seem miles and miles away. Here, as Becca the Soccer Player, I feel like a kid, and I don't ever want to grow up. Åland is like my Never-Never-Land. I wake up every day with sunshine flooding into my bedroom and the only weightiness I feel is how I can make myself a more valuable asset to my team. How can I improve my vision on the field? I really need to work on my ability to quickly switch the point of attack. How can I make myself more offensive-minded? I need to improve my first touch with my left foot.

These concerns I can handle. These concerns I enjoy confronting. But what will I do in six months? And why is it all so scary to me? Am I the only one completely lacking maturity?

Time, don't fly.
Slow down and let me enjoy this.
Rest your wings...

Of course, I have no choice but to concede. I lose. I can try to fight it but time will fly. It always has and it always will.

C'est la vie, non?

So what does that mean, for people like me, who are afraid of the quickness of time?

I think it means that I may be required a new perspective on life, and that is one thing I am learning here in Åland. Let's see if I can sort out these fresh feelings. I cannot fear time, the Inevitable. My time here in Åland will end, and even if I come back to play for another season or five more seasons, eventually, I will settle down somewhere in the United States to be in close proximity to my family. I will have to make commitments. And maybe, just maybe, that doesn't have to be so scary.

Why?

Well, it all comes back to life perspective. Åland is just a place. And Never-Never-Land isn't real. But the way I feel on Åland--completely energized by the sun and the sea and the breeze, completely intrigued by the people who speak Swedish and love to laugh, completely engulfed in the competition of every practice and game--is real. Being here on this adventure has made me completely excited to be alive. And I'm beginning to realize that this excitement, though catalyzed by Åland, isn't limited to the boundaries of Åland. Loving life is a life perspective that can be taken anywhere.

We've heard it said a thousand times: Life is short. And it's true. Life is short. Time flies. But so what? What are you going to do about it?

I like it best put by my favorite painter, Vincent Van Gogh, a man sick with passion for the beauty of the world around him. It is probable that you have heard this quote before, as ingenious words are often repeated. He said:

"I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."

He's right. We know nothing with any certainty. We know nothing of the future or if we will even see tomorrow. But the sight of the stars makes me dream. The sight of the stars and the earth and my family and my friends and the soccer field and the sound of music and the kids laughing outside my window and all the wonderful things that life has to offer makes me dream big and ready to live.

And I hope that I will take that excitement into every step of my life--whether it is in my life here an Åland now, or back home, in my eventual career, in my next relationship, with my family, and with my friends.

We must always laugh, must always love, must always give, and must always dream. Make yourself happy. Be passionate about what you do. Never be ashamed or who are.

I'm not the first to say any of this, but it feels different when it comes as a revelation. "Growing up" is a made up term that scares me because it doesn't sound fun. But I have been blessed with my health and food on the table. I have no excuse not to always make life fun.

Don't forget today's Question for the Reader.
It's Friday night. It's beautiful out. If you think I'm sitting in this apartment for a second longer, typing away on this computer, think again...