Not quite good enough
The sun is out after a stormy night and I am tired after staying up late to hear my football team throw away another opportunity. That seems to be what they’re best at: discarding opportunities, refusing to be great. Their constant underachievement has become the running joke of the competition, and any semblance of respect anyone has ever had for them is diminishing as rapidly as their opponents kick goals against them.
And I notice that disrespect for them coming from me as well, and as I do I wonder what that implies. I have found that I am incapable of thinking something about someone else that I don’t already think about myself. So where do I disrespect myself? Oh, let me count the ways. I see that personal disrespect has been a driving force for me for most of my existence. I have used it in a distorted attempt to push me to greater heights. It may have led to me doing plenty and achieving a lot but, like the Dockers, I’ve never really finished anything off. I dabble. It’s like I don’t respect myself enough to allow me to succeed. The perennial boy most likely, I remain a self-fulfilled prophecy of not quite good enough.
I have been upset with the team, but I see that what has really upset me is myself. And I notice the disrespect in that and it hopefully allows an opening for compassion. Vicious cycles go nowhere, and that explains a lot.