It's 8:46 a.m. and I'm trucking along Gulf Boulevard in my GMC truck named LOUZANN (on my license plate - a combo of my name and my Papa Louie's) on the way to play pickleball. At a red light, I notice a guy in a wheelchair on the sidewalk struggling to wheel himself up a small incline. He has one leg. He reaches out to the light post for assistance - and he rolls along.
This guy isn't being a hermit in his home on a beautiful sunny morning feeling sorry for himself that he has only one leg and lives in a wheelchair. Nope. HE'S OUT THERE! At quarter to nine in the morning, he's out there. He showed up for life today.
Seven minutes later ... almost to pickleball. I notice an old man zipping along the sidewalk in a motorized scooter. His spine is crooked, his head is bent, his knobby hands grasp the handlebars. He seems as if he's on a mission.
This old man isn't sequestering himself in his home on a beautiful sunny morning feeling sorry for himself that he's somewhere around age 92 and must depend on a motorized scooter versus walking. Nope. HE'S OUT THERE! At eight minutes to nine in the morning, he's out there. He showed up for life today.
Fast forward to the pickleball courts. We have players of all ages, all shapes, all heights, all weights, and even various nationalities: British, Scottish, Canadian, American - and those of us from Dundalk :D. Some wear knee braces, wrist supports, ankle braces. One lady moves very slowly around the court - like it hurts her to walk. One guy has a patch over one eye.
Yet they all showed up. THEY'RE OUT THERE!
Snippeteers, most of us have far less things pulling us down than living with only one eye or one leg ... and still, some whine and fret and pull the covers back over their heads and stay in bed. They stay inside. They give up. They are no way showing up today. Life is just too much trouble.
Get out there. Show up no matter what. It is the only way to keep vibrant and alive.
