Back to the Basics: Catch and Throw
When I was in my thirties, I accidentally joined a women’s ultimate frisbee team. This turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.
Lest you disparage ultimate as a lazy sport of barefoot, pot-smoking hippies, check out the 2021 Ultimate Frisbee Championships highlights. Ultimate is an athletic, no-contact, self-refereeing sport with an emphasis on good-spirited play and fun. (Bare feet, weed, and hippies could be in the mix, but usually at the after party.)
At the time I’d just finished graduate school and was out of shape as an athlete, but also as a friend. The four years I played with the Sol Sisters were formative for me as team member and a human. We drove long hours on Friday nights to sleep on the floor and play all weekend—four games on Saturday, as many on Sunday with dinner and dancing in between. The physicality of the game was addictive and the friendships and camaraderie changed my life.
Frisbee was also the first time I’d ever experienced flow state or complete immersion in what I was doing.
When we played, I could concentrate on one point and then the next until the end of the game. Of course I wanted to win, but I was also enthralled by the simple rhythm of play, no matter if we’d just scored a point or made a massive error. I forgot all about work or whatever other worries I had back then. I could push through being hungry, tired, and hot until it was time to crawl back in the car at the end of the weekend. Victorious or defeated, I was always glad I’d gone.
Writing is the only place I’ve discovered the same satisfying flow, though it is admittedly more solitary. On good days, I can fall into the game and cadence of it without attachment to the outcome. Bad days, not so much. Then, I’m focused on expectation or failure and I’m completely in my own way. Some recent bad days got me thinking about frisbee.
MY Sol Sister TEAMMATES remain some of my closest friends.
They each inspire me in a unique way as educators and artists and healthcare workers and scientists and communications specialists. Yesterday when writing left me feeling like I’d been punching myself in the face all morning, I thought of what our team captain always said when things were going off the rails: Go back to the basics—catch and throw. Pay attention to that simple back and forth and the rest will follow. (We still call her Coach and she remains a stabling force in our lives.)
In this spirit, I’ve been thinking about the basics that undergird my writing life, the catch and throw that might get me back into the flow. I know what activities help: Reading, walking the dog, eating right, sleeping, trying to write something. Doing it all again the next day. And when I need encouragement, inspiration, or just a good laugh, I can always count on my friends.
Here are some upcoming and recent conversations I’ve had about The Music of Bees. More to come this spring!
ZOOM: On January 24, 2022, I’m being hosted by the Fayetteville Free Library in Fayetteville, New York at 6:30 EST. Register in advance. Details here.
IN-PERSON: On February 20, 2022, I’ll be part of the Oregon Legacy Project at the Driftwood Public Library in Lincoln City, Oregon. Details here.
RECORDED: Check out my recent conversation with Jonathan Evison about his new novel Small World with Annie Bloom’s Books.