The guaranteed impermanence of both the net and our interest, allowed us to put up the badminton game in our grandma’s front yard. No matter how far we stretched the poles, there was a permanent sag in the middle, which ultimately worked to our advantage. Each shuttlecock, or birdie as we called it, was worn down to the nubs, either by racket or grandpa’s truck that drove over them. We swung with exuberance, hitting mostly only summer farm breezes. We struggled to keep score — the real “wins” coming in the few moments we could strike up an actual rally. 

When I see them play badminton at the Olympic level, I have to laugh. It is not the same game. I mention it only because I’m reminded how we do this in our daily lives — compare our experiences. When someone tells us of a certain struggle or situation, we are often so quick to say, “Oh, I’ve been through that, it’s not so hard”… or “Here’s what you should do…” or “just get over it…” The thing is, we’re not playing the same game. What might be a swing in a summer breeze to you, may be an international struggle for someone else. Neither right nor wrong. Just different. The best we can do, I suppose, is to sag the net a little and help each other rally. Maybe in doing so, we can all get back to the comfort of a summer breeze, in our time and in our way, and we could all win.

Perhaps it’s just an Olympic size dream raised up from the barefooted grass of my grandparent’s farm, but I owe it to myself, we owe it to ourselves, to keep swinging!