In a month, I'll be home on winter vacation, soaking up the California sun and catching up with LA friends.
Before I get there, I need to write 4 papers, take 2 final exams, and do 1 presentation. There are also plenty of social events already filling up the pages of my calendar. Needless to say, I've got a lot on my plate!
I can't believe my first semester at Yale is drawing to a close. Coming here was one of the best things I've done, and I'm ready for a break so that I can come back in 2015 with even more energy and enthusiasm!
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Even the Best Things in Life Bring Disappointment
I never thought that soccer would get me back at blogging, but it has, and here I am.
We lost a game today, and I find myself feeling strangely emotional about it. I keep replaying failed plays in my head, the kinds that make you hold your head in your hands and curse out loud. (yes, I do sometimes curse, usually when I'm not thinking and just reacting to what's happening before my eyes).
1-2, and one goal makes all the difference. Especially when, after your team has scored early in the game, the referee makes the call that your defender committed a foul (he totally didn't) and gives the other team a penalty kick, which then bounces off of two of our defenders, into our own goal.
Oh, we tried so hard to knock another goal in after that, but somehow we just couldn't make things happen. Instead, we let them score another one.
Soccer is the best sport in the universe, and when my team loses in a critical game (had we won today's game, we would have played in the championship match), I find that I feel very, very disappointed.
Today's emotions brought me back to the fourth grade, when my team made it all the way to state championships and lost by penalty kicks. I didn't cry like the rest of my teammates, but I was devastated. Today, I feel like that fourth grade girl, very sad inside--even pretty mad--but not showing the emotions on my face.
I don't usually consider myself a competitive person, and I owe that to 2 factors:
1) Growing up, I saw how competitive my mother and brother were, and I decided to not be that way
2) I'm a natural perfectionist, so the only way to not drive myself crazy is to not care too much.
Of course, neither perfectionism nor apathy is sustainable for too long, and I've lived most of my life somewhere in the middle. Life is about the pursuit of excellence with a grace-filled attitude. I expect good quality performance from myself and others, but when I fail to meet those standards, and when others do poorly, grace is there to acknowledge inability.
Today, though, I was feeling very competitive, and I so desperately wanted to win.
I think the pain in today's game lies in the fact that even the best things in life (soccer, teamwork, and the possibility of winning) bring severe disappointment. It's interesting how human a loss can make me feel. I am not invincible, and my team just got beat in semi-finals. It hurts, and it will take me a few days to get over it. But at least it's got me back on the blog again...
We lost a game today, and I find myself feeling strangely emotional about it. I keep replaying failed plays in my head, the kinds that make you hold your head in your hands and curse out loud. (yes, I do sometimes curse, usually when I'm not thinking and just reacting to what's happening before my eyes).
1-2, and one goal makes all the difference. Especially when, after your team has scored early in the game, the referee makes the call that your defender committed a foul (he totally didn't) and gives the other team a penalty kick, which then bounces off of two of our defenders, into our own goal.
Oh, we tried so hard to knock another goal in after that, but somehow we just couldn't make things happen. Instead, we let them score another one.
Soccer is the best sport in the universe, and when my team loses in a critical game (had we won today's game, we would have played in the championship match), I find that I feel very, very disappointed.
Today's emotions brought me back to the fourth grade, when my team made it all the way to state championships and lost by penalty kicks. I didn't cry like the rest of my teammates, but I was devastated. Today, I feel like that fourth grade girl, very sad inside--even pretty mad--but not showing the emotions on my face.
I don't usually consider myself a competitive person, and I owe that to 2 factors:
1) Growing up, I saw how competitive my mother and brother were, and I decided to not be that way
2) I'm a natural perfectionist, so the only way to not drive myself crazy is to not care too much.
Of course, neither perfectionism nor apathy is sustainable for too long, and I've lived most of my life somewhere in the middle. Life is about the pursuit of excellence with a grace-filled attitude. I expect good quality performance from myself and others, but when I fail to meet those standards, and when others do poorly, grace is there to acknowledge inability.
Today, though, I was feeling very competitive, and I so desperately wanted to win.
I think the pain in today's game lies in the fact that even the best things in life (soccer, teamwork, and the possibility of winning) bring severe disappointment. It's interesting how human a loss can make me feel. I am not invincible, and my team just got beat in semi-finals. It hurts, and it will take me a few days to get over it. But at least it's got me back on the blog again...
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