Desire

"Hello? You play to win the game! You don't play to just play it"---Herman Edwards

I was five years old when I almost died trying to achieve something that meant a lot to me. It was the summer of 1985. I was in summer school, on a trip to the local pool for some fun in the sun. The atmosphere felt right. The temperature was warm, everyone was having fun and there I was---out on the side, watching it all unfold. It was eatting me up inside. I wanted to swim, too

The problem?

I wasn't that good. So I watched. I noticed all the kids swimming and playing, enjoying the day. And there I was, still sitting on the side. I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to leave logic at the door and act. I stood up, all four feet of me, and took a few short steps to the edge of the pool. I looked out at the crowd and then down at the water. I did it once more, bent my knees, leaped high in the air and dove in. I took a dip into the area of the pool that was five-feet deep. And though I wasn't skilled, I was holding my own. But it wasn't enough. I needed more of a challenge. So I moved to my left and drifted off into the 10-foot area of the pool. Instantly I knew I had a battle on my hands. The water was too deep for me, too strong. I fought. But it seemed as though the more I fought, the harder it became. I was fighting a losing battle. The water was moving from my chest to my shoulders, as I was sinking. I was screaming, calling for help but no one seemed to hear me as the water now was moving up to my neck. But I didn't stop fighting. For those few seconds, which seemed like an eternity, I fought until my body was tired. I fought for my life. Soon enough I couldn't fight anymore. I had given all I had. As I was engulfed by the water, all outside sounds ceased to exist. All that was left was silence and my thoughts. The end was near.

This is how I live my life. For good or bad, I've been taking chances for years. I've played to win. Sometimes, in some areas of our lives, it's necessary to recapture the child within us. Children are fearless. I knew the risk I was taking when I entered the pool. But there was a goal I wanted to achieve. And nothing else mattered at the time. In this life, it's all about risk taking, moving on a dream, moving on a feeling placed in our hearts. Historically, the winners have been the ones who have moved on their aspirations, followed their hearts and were willing to take a step forward when logic tells them to take two steps back. The time has come for us to allow our hearts to become the shepard of our sheep.

Our biggest adversary is ourselves. Our biggest battles are fought with our fears, our fears of stepping outside of our comfort zone, a fear of being great, a fear of trusting ourselves. We play not to lose. We should play to win. You'll lose from time to time. Sometimes failure can be the beginning of your biggest victory, if you learn from your mistakes. Failure makes you fearless. And to be fearless is to be free. Playing to win is giving it all you have. Playing to win is planning, execution and belief---even when some don't understand what you're trying to do and where you're trying to go. Playing to win is knowing you'll win even when you lose. Playing to win is understanding the law of averages, knowing your time will come soon. Playing to win is having patience. Playing to win is having desire and focus.

Every day you're on stage. The lights are on--they're shining bright upon you-- and the whole world is watching. All you can do is perform. All you can do is give it your all. All you can do is give your heart to the world. And after you've done everything possible, all you can do is hope your audience received it. It's all that's required. I've been sharing my heart for a long time. And knowing that gives me peace. When don't I have peace? When I know I didn't do my best, when I know I held something back. I don't have peace when I revert back to that child in '85, who's standing on the side, when I know I should be diving in the pool.

I've failed a lot in my lifetime. I've won my share, too. And since that summer day, I feel like I've been living on borrowed time. But, that's OK. I'm here. I'm breathing. We're breathing. We're not here just to live. We're here to do something special.

We're here to win.

For a moment my future seemed bleak. My final hour was near, as I sank deeper into the water. I was too tired to fight anymore. And as I was just about to give up, two hands grabbed me and lifted me above the surface. I gasped for breath as a stranger carried me back to safety.

"Are you OK?"

I smiled.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I said. "Thank you."

As I sat on the side of the pool again, I watched as the stranger left and met some friends in the middle of the pool. I replayed the moment in my mind a few times. I caught my breath. I stood up and looked out at the pool. I smiled.

And you know what I did after that?

I jumped right back in.

---EOB.