Second Chance Dance: The Zen of Baseball

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

The Zen of Baseball

“The game of (base) ball is glorious”

                        – Walt Whitman.

Ted Williams with Red Ormsby the Umpire

“…Baseball is a lot like religion.

Its followers put their faith and hope in uncontrollable forces in search of fulfillment and inner joy….

Baseball is about coming home. The whole point of the game is to finish where you begin – home plate – and once you are home you are finally safe."

- James Penrice, The Spiritual Lessons of

Baseball

“In my beginning is my end…

Home is where one starts from…

In my end is my beginning.”



               -T. S. Eliot, “East Coker”

“Your grandfather once told me it was ok to think about what you want to do until it was time to start doing what you were meant to do.”



                - The Rookie

So where does one get the authentic sense of purpose and identity? What event during one’s younger years sparks that flame to burn and cast a true light as to where one should be headed. Who created that spark? What was the point of this spark in the first place? Why does this flame make everything crystal clear and yet still muddy the waters of one’s own desires and notions about what and where one should be? Could there be more than one flame or more than one source? Would another flame appear if one burned out? Is there any end to the sparks?

Was that youth recreation baseball coach some angelic spirit in human disguise? How did he get here? What was his purpose? Why did he busy himself with encouraging his young charges to be authentic, free to be one’s self, joyful and be in the moment? How did time become no time? Seizing the day, the moment never seemed to be so real did it? How did winning and losing evaporate and get carried away by some sacred breeze?

Who would have thought that the smell of linseed oil on leather would replace that of incense? Who would have believed that the 108 stitches on a baseball would coincidentally be the same number as Buddhist prayer beads or two mysteries of the Catholic Rosary?

Was this the great lesson that could not be taught or understood in school and churches? Were the players who were selected identified by some greater spirit as needing to learn the lesson of unconditional love for self and others, truth, authenticity, faith and integrity by playing this game for this coach ?

And by the way when did the last two words of the National Anthem become “Play Ball?”

Can I hear an "Amen?"

Game is called - Grantland Rice

https://youtu.be/NbN5Q-Na66U

Game Called

Game Called. Across the field of play 

the dusk has come, the hour is late. 

The fight is done and lost or won, 

the player files out through the gate. 

The tumult dies, the cheer is hushed, 

the stands are bare, the park is still. 

But through the night there shines the light,

 home beyond the silent hill.

Game Called. Where in the golden light

 the bugle rolled the reveille. 

The shadows creep where night falls deep, 

and taps has called the end of play. T

he game is done, the score is in, 

the final cheer and jeer have passed.

But in the night, beyond the fight,

 the player finds his rest at last.

Game Called. Upon the field of life 

the darkness gathers far and wide,

 the dream is done, the score is spun 

that stands forever in the guide.

Nor victory, nor yet defeat 

is chalked against the players name.

But down the roll, the final scroll,

shows only how he played the game

- Grantland Rice



People will come – Field of Dreams

https://youtu.be/7SB16il97yw

Docs Dream- Field of Dreams

  https://youtu.be/Y9yrupye7B0

Farewell Moonlight – Fields of Dreams

https://youtu.be/v6bD23vEigE

Hey Dad Wanna Catch? – Field of Dreams

  https://youtu.be/lXjz-M_6eN8

For the love of the game- Just Throw

https://youtu.be/QYTadlooH7o?list=PLeG0OVxY34arKyc0H6tQAlEyjH2v5rKnW

The Natural - Ending

  https://youtu.be/i94ldGNNSQ0

( Dedicated to Coach B who taught me to let go , be present and be myself - to live , work and play with joy and love. I still have my youth baseball glove at hand to help me remember to remember.

I always loved having a catch with my daughters. You ladies are the best! Get out your gloves for our next get together.)

amdg

Copyright all Rights Reserved JF Sobecki LLC 2017

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New Blog - Rain and Rivers Revisited: A Journey of a Lost Weekend

Well you may recall I have been working on a piece of fiction for a while now. It is still a work in progress. However, I decided

to release drafts of the first few episodes ( chapters.) Much of the work is completed but I am always cutting and editing.

http://rainandriversrevisited.blogspot.com/

It is difficult to release just pieces at a time as they are created as independent episodes they are also all parts of a larger piece (and picture .) I could share more but I am curious to read or hear your feedback.

I want to thank those friends and supporters who have already provided feedback ...and of course all the folks who have been following my Second Chance Dance Blog ( by the way that will continue.)

The material in the Blog is all copyrighted and cannot be reproduced in any form. Though, I welcome you to share the link and this blog with others .So please when you have a few minutes take a read and let me know what you think. I expect to be posting a series of subsequent episodes shortly.

Thanks....

News of Death

(This is for Coach)

Last night they came with news of death
not knowing what I would say.
I wanted to say,"The green wind is running through the fields making the grass lie flat."
I wanted to say,"The apple blossom flakes like ash covering the orchard wall."
I wanted to say,"the fish float belly up in the slow stream,stepping stones to the dead."

They asked if I would sleep that night,
I said I did not know.
For this loss I could not speak,the tongue lay idle in a great darkness,the heart was strangely open,the moon had gone,and it was then when I said, "He is no longer here"
that the night put its arms around me
and all the white stars turned bitter with grief.
- David Whyte

What Work is

We stand in the rain in a long line

waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.

You know what work is--if you're

old enough to read this you know what

work is, although you may not do it.

Forget you. This is about waiting,

shifting from one foot to another.

Feeling the light rain falling like mist

into your hair, blurring your vision

until you think you see your own brother

ahead of you, maybe ten places.

You rub your glasses with your fingers,

and of course it's someone else's brother,

narrower across the shoulders than

yours but with the same sad slouch, the grin

that does not hide the stubbornness,

the sad refusal to give in to

rain, to the hours wasted waiting,

to the knowledge that somewhere ahead

a man is waiting who will say, "No,

we're not hiring today," for any

reason he wants. You love your brother,

now suddenly you can hardly stand

the love flooding you for your brother,

who's not beside you or behind or

ahead because he's home trying to

sleep off a miserable night shift

at Cadillac so he can get up

before noon to study his German.

Works eight hours a night so he can sing

Wagner, the opera you hate most,

the worst music ever invented.

How long has it been since you told him

you loved him, held his wide shoulders,

opened your eyes wide and said those words,

and maybe kissed his cheek? You've never

done something so simple, so obvious,

not because you're too young or too dumb,

not because you're jealous or even mean

or incapable of crying in

the presence of another man, no,

just because you don't know what work is.

Philip Levine

On Marriage - Kahil Gibran

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but make not a bond of love:Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loafSing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.And stand together yet not too near together:For the pillars of the temple stand apart,And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

A favorite "Journey" poem from a favorite poet

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
-- Mary Oliver

Send or post one of your favorites! They can be lyrics to a song!

Playing For Change

Please see the current music video from "Playing for Change" at the bottom of this page. It is a movement. Enjoy!

"Playing for Change" is a multimedia movement created to inspire, connect, and bring peace to the world through music. The idea for this project arose from a common belief that music has the power to break down boundaries and overcome distances between people. No matter whether people come from different geographic, political, economic, spiritual or ideological backgrounds, music has the universal power to transcend and unite us as one human race. And with this truth firmly fixed in our minds, we set out to share it with the world

Fall in Love

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.” --- Pedro Arrupe SJ

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

The Zen of Baseball

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