Let The Game Come To You
It’s 9am on a Wednesday morning and I haven’t eaten breakfast.
A half-liter of Paulaner Hefe-Weizen is in my hand and the only thing keeping me from questioning my life’s choices and thinking of myself as a complete lush is the fact that I’m surrounded by a bar full of business professionals who decided to spend their morning doing the same thing. Funny how a socially expectable thing like watching Germany play in the World Cup can turn adults into the equivalent of teenagers pretending they’re sick, skipping school and being careful none of their friends post a picture of them online in fear of indictment.
As the match ended and the bar began to empty, defeated Germany fans returning to work with overcompensated posture and enunciation, I found myself sitting in conversation with a gentleman and his wife. Both in their mid seventies, their retirement allowing them not to feel rushed to leave, I became soberly aware of my career as a musician possibly meaning a decision to take my retirement in small segments throughout the week therefore lessening the chances of the possibility later in life.
I noticed they’d been drinking the lukewarm-black-sludge most bars pass off as “coffee” all morning so I can only assume that the conversation ended up taking a deeper turn mainly due to the forwardness and courage my breakfast choice of liquid bread and hops had given me.
I had asked about an offhand comment I overheard the husband make, saying that they had only been married for 3 years, but we ended up talking abut marriage, careers and life in general over the next half-hour when he said something that stuck out, hidden within a considerable amount of wisdom the rest of the conversation with them held.
“As much as we force things in life to work out, I feel like the best thing to do is what your coach used to tell you if you ever played sports when you were younger. ‘Let the game come to you.’ Don’t feel like you need to franticly run around forcing things to work out the way you want them to. Trust things are going to work out and open yourself to the possibilities of the unknown, life has a way of working itself out.”
My buzz is gone but his words are still floating around my head, dulling the usual sharpness of my self-consciousness and worry.
When staring down the loaded barrel of an empty day, week or month (a phrase I heard Pete Holmes say on his podcast and related to instantly) I find myself wanting to force things to happen, or worse, question the sanity of my decision to venture down this road of being an artist with the sole goal of finding my own voice in the world.
“Calm down Morgan, ‘Let the game come to you’.”
Over the past five days, it’s become a sort of mantra I’ve used to remind myself throughout the day when I feel the fear creeping back into focus and I've decided to make it a regular meditation throughout this next month.
Not as an excuse to be lazy, but as a reminder to take a deep breath, trust the process and
“Let the game come to you.”