MOVING FORWARD: FINDING THE POINT IN YOUR MISTAKES

On Sundays, I play with a group of friends that I met almost 9 years ago, when I was first introduced to Pickleball. We had all just started playing while trying to master the awkwardness of dinks, drops, and keeping our pop-ups to a minimum. It was an exciting time for sure, as the game was just starting to catch fire in Utah.

On a typical day, every court in Utah is flooded with players along with dozens waiting to rotate in. Our group takes advantage of the many court vacancies on Sundays while the majority of our community is at church.

On any given Sunday, we could have a group of 4 to 12 depending on who is in town and who is available to play. A couple weeks ago, we had a small group of five that showed up to play, which is a pretty rare occurrence. With this size of a group, it seemed more intimate as we could all hear each other talking and laughing and having a good time.

After a few games it was my turn to sit out. While watching the other four play, I heard my friend Wendy make a comment to her partner after a dead ball that I have been ruminating on since. Her partner had expressed frustration of being up at the non-volley zone by herself.

I haven’t stopped thinking about it. A simple statement, but one packed with so much meaning.

If you’ve been following along with me since I started this series, you know that I see and approach pickleball through a relational lens full of applicable metaphors.

"…I feel like I hit a bad shot and I was afraid to come forward."

Boy, did this one hit home. Even up until yesterday, I have been thinking of ways this example shows up in my life and in my relationships: What missteps, mistakes, or messes have I made where I was afraid to “come forward”? Where do I stay back? To move past the error and show up anyway? To sit with the effects of a poor decision and reconcile the impact it may have on my partner? To take accountability for my part in the dynamic?

Of course, I realize that in Pickleball, hitting a bad shot would definitely change the way one would need to adjust their next play. And in the case of a bad drop shot, one WOULD need to stay back to defend a most-likely sweeping drive shot at their feet. In this case, however, Wendy never moved forward even though the ball was still in play after her bad shot. Her partner was on the front line and she stayed back as they eventually lost the point.

This reminded me of several instances in my marriage, where I would say something out of line or hurt the feelings of my partner and instead of coming forward to take account and apologize, I would retreat instead. I would stay back and the shame would keep me there.

Eventually, after many years of this repeated scenario where repair was avoided, the layers of resentment built up to an insurmountable level that led to our divorce, eight years ago this month.

It wasn’t until last year, seven years since our departure, that my ex and I decided to start the repair process after a text exchange that started to head south over our disabled daughter’s care. Since our divorce, she became a therapist and I became a relationship coach. We both knew better than to let a small text exchange take us out and put us into a familiar pattern.

So, on a warm Saturday afternoon last spring, we decided to meet under a shaded tree and talk it all out for as long as it would take. Damn, was that tough. Twenty-four years of baggage to sift through. Four hours of listening, getting activated, seeking to understand each other’s individual experience, reminiscing, and reconciling through tear-stained faces. We even ended with a hug. She went home to her new husband and I went to my girlfriend’s house.

Together as a married couple, we both hit A LOT of bad shots. But this conversation on a sunny, spring Saturday was the tipping point of us both coming forward.

About the Author

Daniel Singer is a senior designer at Pickleball Central and a certified relationship coach. He is an avid pickleball player and plays with a rare disease called Charcot-Marie-Tooth. He resides in Orem, Utah.