When I was born, I crawled onto a tennis court without a racket, shoes, or hat. I became the ball that the two competitors hit back and forth for the next seventeen years in this game of life.
On one side of the net, Responsibility stands proud as a calculated player. All smiles in the back seat of his dad’s car, he was anxious to hit each ball with a purpose to learn. As a little boy, he marched onto the court, focused, and driven. Years of playing with his dad transformed into formal training with professional coaches, personal trainers, and nutritionists. By high school, he was determined to become a collegiate player. After an intense day of AP classes, he raced home, stuffed protein into his mouth, changed into tennis shoes, and drove off to his academy. He hit balls until he could no longer lift his arm. He performed squats until he limped out of the club. As a singles player, matches were lonely without teammates to high five or coaches to offer words of advice. To engage his mind, he read his pre-match notes and focused on his breathing. The responsibility of winning weighed on his shoulders.
On the other side of the net stands Freedom. Freedom runs onto the court and swings with passion. From the time his body was as big as his racket, he jumped up and down when he hit the targets that his dad placed on the court. He humbly grinned when adults commented on his accuracy and focus. As Freedom aged, he began to compete with kids at his level. Striking a backhand that cruised past his opponent felt liberating. The court was his home where he felt safe and independent. Freedom was composed and never threw his racket or yelled at his opponents. Releasing endorphins from swinging a racket was invigorating. His best relationships were generated during water breaks in practices where he learned to appreciate the diversity of players. Each day, Freedom brought new energy to the court for himself, and others.
As time went on, practices became more structured and matches more intense. A less flexible schedule consumed Freedom’s life. Unfortunately, his passion for tennis converted into an obligation. The pressure to become a collegiate tennis player came at a cost.
The match between Responsibility and Freedom reached a pivotal point. My fuzz was falling off. I was losing air pressure. I was stained from the blue pavement. As each rally passed, I felt exhausted. I arrived at a crossroads.
Finally, I shared my repressed feelings with my parents and coach. I missed the joy of my younger self knocking down targets. As tennis became less of a hobby and more of a lifestyle, my love for it altered. I compromised my freedom and physical well-being in order to play on a college team. Achieving personal happiness requires an equilibrium. It was time to adjust my life goals like I adjust my match strategy. I needed to win.
My decision to play tennis at a relaxed intensity paved the way for an enhanced life. Extracting lessons from tennis including maintaining physical health, practicing resilience, and emitting confidence allows me to live a life in balance. In science research groups, I model how to set tangible short and long term goals. As President of my Temple Youth Board, I lead inspirational holiday services and deliver motivational sermons in front of hundreds displaying composure and focus.
By letting go of my collegiate tennis goal, I have not failed, but rather redirected my priorities to assure that my life remains balanced between responsibility and freedom. I welcome the opportunity and am prepared to embark on new challenges. Each day, I am closer to no longer being the ball jockeyed back and forth, but instead, the firm net between both ways of life on and off the court.
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