I am meeting with the BraveHeart Men alumni tonight. I'm curious--and a little nervous--about what sort of stories the men will come with tonight. Have they pursued their mission? Have they leaned into their true identity? Most of them, I fear, have not. It is so very difficult, perhaps the most difficult thing of all, to be your true self, and to pursue your true dream.
One of the men emailed me to ask if we could watch the game tonight. I said no. Hell no is more like it.
I've got nothing against professional team sports, but I'm convinced that the reason some men get so emotionally consumed following a particular team or season of football or baseball or basketball (or all three) is because the games represent the true life that those men want, but are not living. They are made for battle, for adventure, for risk, for rising to the challenge of overwhelming odds, for facing down Goliath with nothing but a slingshot and a passionate belief in the rightness of their cause. But this is not the life they live; they somehow chose a lesser path without meaning to. And so they comfort themselves by pouring their heart into a ritualized reenactment of the life they truly want...the battle of good versus evil, signified by the color of a jersey or a symbol on a helmet.
Again, sports are fine. But they are no substitute for actually living the life you were made for.