Spalding

Photo by Egor Myznik on Unsplash

The last thing I remembered was someone yelling, “Heads up!” The youth group gymnasium was also an auditorium. I sat on the lip of the stage chatting while the older kids played volleyball. It was planned as a casual game, but most stuff involving my cohort became competitive. Sometimes unnecessarily so.

Everything was processing at once before it went dark. I remember a big guy spiked the volleyball way too hard. I heard the terrible advice to put my head up. Then I saw white. Maybe stitching. I have had so many smacks to the head, I can barely remember them all.

The ball had flown way out of bounds and clocked me right in the face. I remember getting shaken, and a couple of people helped me sit up. Sitting up helped the blood flow right out of my nostrils. It hurt. I was scared by what else might go wrong. And I was embarrassed. I don’t know why I was embarrassed. I was minding my own business when I got hit. Maybe it was just the discomfort of everyone turning and looking. Maybe it was because I felt weak in front of everyone.

I have never been laid off, but I have sat on the other side of the conversation. While I don’t know exactly what it feels like, I assume it’s like that Spalding.

Whoever yelled “heads up” wasn’t wasting their time, but it was too late for me to react. The moment the ball left their hand, the outcome was already decided. While the warning wasn’t useless, it wasn’t sufficient either. My readiness needed to be in place before that round.

I just saw a bunch of friends get laid off. It was hard for me to watch and certainly harder for them to experience. Some of them I had worked with for decades. Their heads up was probably a meeting invite or text. Their outcome was already decided.

Where am I waiting for a warning instead of being ready? What am I building now that I might need later? What am I ignoring that I should be prepared for?

Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.