Thursday, 21 May 2020

Winners & Losers

Today's writing is about winning and losing. We've all had experience at both. No doubt we are better at some things than others. It can feel bad to lose. But is losing all bad? Is winning all good? And is how we think about it the most important thing?


MANA

I have learnt
That to win
Is to enjoy
Enormously
The flow of energy
Movement of limbs
And body
The slow, patient
Kind
Teaching
From a tutor`s heart

The companionship
Of others
Learning too
On this journey
We call
Life

- Pauline



LOSING

The dreaded cross-country time of year again. It was always late summer - the days were starting to draw in. It was cooler in the mornings and daylight shrinking at both ends. There were the "practice runs" followed by the "Big Day". Clad in maroon rompers and standard uniform white top. Across the road, down the river-bank into the Heathcote, strewn with weed. Up the opposite bank and then up the hill - an excruciatingly long distance at the time! And finally, back into the old school yard, last, or slightly less humiliating, second-to-last. And then the relief. Relief that it was over for another year. Maybe next year it would'nt be so bad.

- Pauline



DID I REALLY WIN?

Thwack, whoosh, thwack, thud, the shuttlecock flies over the net as we try to out manoeuvre each other.  5 - 1, I'm winning, not a common occurrence.  Thwack, thud, ugh.  Another point to me.  And another.  And another.  You'd think I'd be enjoying this, but I'm not.  I'd rather lose a close game than thrash this person.  Maybe I'll ease off and hit more shots towards her.  She gets a point, then misses more.  10 - 2, 10 - 3, maybe she's on a roll.  11 - 3, 12 - 3, damn.  I end up winning 15 - 4.  I get the point, it looks good on the score sheet, but I don't feel good about it.  I wonder if that's how people feel when they thrash me?

- Christine



A HIDDEN WIN

I hate P.E.  Why can't we do something fun, like play games or sports?  It's always running or jumping or bloody gymnastics.  Today it's cross-country.  Cross-bloody-country.  I know I'll be last, I always am.  If I was braver, I'd refuse to do it.  What's the point?  The others will run off, and I'll walk in, 15 minutes later, panting, red, and buggered.
P.S.  I hurt my knee climbing over the barbed wire fence, later discovered I'd torn a ligament, so now I refuse to ever do cross-country.  Yay!!

- Christine

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