Lance + Adriatic = BFF’s
Oct3
I have recently made a very good friend- his name is the Adriatic Sea.
Lately I find myself walking down to the beach, a block from the hotel and I walk in the water and have good conversations with him. Not your usual, small talk mind you. But questions about life, reality, and is everything predestined? He is a very good listener. I can tell him anything, and he usually will answer by washing a rock or seashell onto the shore, and I will pick it up and take it back with me.
All we all just an extension of God? Does God experience life through us? If we all as a collective whole, comprise of God, when we pass over to the other side, is there a tangible, concrete face that we can look into, and talk to? Meaning: if like a human cell, all 6 billion of us are cells that make up God’s identity, is there ever a time where we will be able to have a face-to-face talk?
Or did God create us, and then we are entirely individual, separate entities?
These are the kind of questions I ask the Adriatic, as I look out onto the choppy water and sea the sailboats pass, seeing with them the thousands of ships before them, through the millienia, that have come and gone, to and fro, carrying millions of souls to their final destinations. I see Roman legions rowing their ships past, and I think how many of those men had the same questions I share with the Adriatic, and are we all just empty vessels that pass as quietly as we came?
But, the Adriatic hears my questions and lets me ask them, without fear of judgment or condescension. So far from home, in this new reality that I live in, one that is far away from where I expected to be, I now choose to accept this reality, and furthermore, love it. For in this reality, I can walk to the park and sit on a bench as the Adriatic tells me a story as well, if he is tired or stressed, or if he is in a pleasant mood, as he shares with me his hopes and fears, that I understand all too well: when this reality on this earth ends, will he be forgotten?
We are good friends.
Dear Readers-
Sep5
I apologize for the lack of writing….
Due to no one’s fault but my own, my blog does not bode well with my main occupation of basketball during the basketball season, as I risk having much lost in translation and otherwise. Furthermore, when in the moment, when writing present tense, I do not have enough distance and perspective to be fair, and I can easily come across as quite sarcastic and condescending. I do not wish to have my words cause drama to any team, teammates or myself during the season and I will not be writing about anything basketball, during the basketball season. For that matter, I don’t see myself writing much of basketball until my next book, when I have had plenty of time to gain hindsight and analyze the experience as unbiasedly as I possibly can, with an historian’s objective.
I apologize to anyone who’s feelings I may have offended or hurt during these last few months since the launching of the website.
In truth, I have had serious time these last few weeks to truly sit back and analyze who I want to be and represent in this life. For the past while, I have grown quite dark and broody, resentful and bitter. Angry, that life has not gone according to plan, challenging my reality at every turn. And this resistance has only caused internal conflict, hinged on the fact that I put so much importance on basketball defining my self-worth. Dallying with the notion that because my stay in the NBA was not longer- I failed. That because I was not able to make it a home, that somehow I was not validated: silly thoughts. And only recently on a late night phone call, with a dear friend back home, did I truly come to see the error of my thinking and way of viewing life, when he asked, “Lance, so what if they validate you, and say you are the greatest player in the world…. then what? What are you going to do with that validation? Buy a loaf of bread?”
They- being those nameless faces that want to see my fail and delight in my shortcomings. But no matter what I do, I will never convince them to like me.
I had a serious wake up call. I often spend so much time analyzing the past, and trying to make sense of it, or trying to predict the future and steer it, that I often forget to live in the present.
So, I am not in NBA…. What can I do about it? Nothing. And that is my reality. And my reality is my present. All I can do is wake up in the morning and do the best that I can with each day. I can’t fight it, this reality, this path, anymore, and allow the bitterness to creep up inside me, as I have done. It has steered me along a detour filled with anger and malice, that I direct towards others, hurting and damaging relationships with my friends and loved ones, over petty, insincere comments, showing no empathy. Mostly, because I could give myself no empathy.
I have had many bouts of depression, but this, what I have been traveling through, not only this last month in Italy, but the last few months, if not year, is something entirely different. I saw no point in anything anymore. Why pray? Why meditate? What is the point? It is all a joke, a sick twisted joke. If it all ended it tomorrow, I guess that would be ok. These were the thoughts inside of my head.
A very close friend and mentor described it to me as a spiritual madness, or a Dark Night of the Soul. But whatever you call it, it was the darkest place I have ever been. And I lost sight of what was important- my loved ones, my family, my butties and myself. I am here on this earth on a journey, one that I cannot control or manipulate, but only experience and learn from. And that is my reality: Without doubt, the most painful and difficult I have to lean in this life.
I cannot fight my reality, and allow the internal conflict to arise, opening the door to self-loathing and resentment.
I realize I have hurt many people over this last year, and I have no excuses for it. My many snide comments, which I remember, for I remember seeing the looks on the faces of loved ones that received them, have not been callously forgotten. I am aware of my actions, I always am. And I can only apologize for them and say that it is time for me to grow up and accept this path of life that I am on, and not measure it to anyone else. It is mine, and mine alone. Just as anyone else’s is theirs alone.
To my family: I love you all. So much that it hurts sometimes, and I know I don’t express it very well, nor often or easily. This truth is due to the fact that I don’t or won’t allow myself to be loved, not only by others, but most importantly, by me.
And I am sorry.
I am now headed to Pesaro, for I decided to let the conflict inside of me go, and I know that allowed my exterior world and reality to shift and allow a good thing to come to me and send me to Pesaro, Italy. It is a good club, very professional, in a beautiful part of the world. And I just have to let it unfold, and see where life chooses to go with it. For that is all I can do, really.
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