#251: Small Steps & We'll Play Tomorrow

One of my most prized possessions is a letter my Grandpop wrote to me when I graduated high school. It was hot off the press of his personal typewriter, made wonderfully unique by the imperfectly set letter here and there, and his flowing signature at the end. It contained so much of the affection and wisdom he didn’t, or couldn’t, express to me through words. I love Jack’s practice he describes here, an updated version of what I experienced. I find it so beautiful when one person’s practice not only helps their own transformation into a new stage of being, but also serves to create connection and deeper understanding for others, too.

- Corey

SMALL STEPS & WE'LL PLAY TOMORROW

My friend Ben Hoyer once told me, "meaningful things often happen with steps so small they seem silly." 

 When I worked for the NBA's Orlando Magic, I couldn't share my voice without going through our PR. Fear of team fines and the hassle of PR created an aversion to sharing online content beyond normal fear. And it set in over time. 

So I started an intentional journey to unlearn the behaviors holding me back, and to ship work in safe places. I've never had problems giving speeches, but putting written pieces or videos on the web…nope, nada, just wasn't going to happen.  In 2020, I did 100 posts in 4 months in the writing workshop, but this next year, I aim to do 100 written posts and 100 videos publicly. 

 One of the first things that opened me up was simply writing to my sons. Around the time my first son was born, I heard about a friend who wrote letters to his children on each of their birthdays. I liked the idea and since I am not afraid of writing to my sons (who by the way can't read yet) the act itself became a small part of the practice of shipping. I created email accounts for each of my two boys where I share birthday letters, but also written encouragement and stories each of them can read later. It makes me feel purposeful about being a father. I like seeing the encouraging notes starting to add up in their inboxes.  

What's the difference between being generous with them and being generous with the rest of the world? It took this intentional process and about a year away from the basketball team to learn that.

Here is one of the most recent emails to my first son that was an aha moment for me.

For most of 2020, you have signed off every evening with "hey, hey, Daddy,…I've got to tell you something…"  I perk up with attention... The same thing always follows, 

  

“I love you. We’ll play tomorrow.”

 

I think it originated when you were wondering whether or not you were staying home or going to school. Only recently it struck me how endearing and brilliant this phrase is. Rather than just say, "I love you," you include the excitement, and joy of love in action with "we'll play tomorrow." It’s so matter-of-fact, yet can’t hold a grudge. It is one of the warmest, most hopeful things to hear and it makes me endeavor to find ways to show others love in this way.  

Win the day! Love, Dad. And as long as possible - We'll play tomorrow! 

While writing this email and reflecting on that phrase, I realized the process I once started to unlearn behaviors holding me back, had taken me past the fear to a place of WANTING to share. Now I am simply working to make what I ship clearer but it will be guided with the same sense of love in action. 

In 2021, we'll play tomorrow, as long as possible.