On Friday, there were a whole bunch of games.. and I freaking love games. I’m not really competitive, but I love the dynamic that is brought out when people are sitting around, not worrying about much other than winning a game that means nothing in the grand scheme of life. I was recruited to play Farkle which – despite my first assumption – is not like Yahtzee.
It’s a game of risk. and greed. You can stay with 300 points or risk getting 0 at the chance of earning more. It kept making me think of Deal or No Deal, a game which I have never understood. When people turn down $25,000 it makes me angry. When in your life has anyone EVER offered you $25,000? Yeah, you might be able to get 30, 40 or moreK, but you could also see that number go down. I’d be terrible on that show. They’d be like “$8,000: deal or no deal?” and I’d be like “DEAL!”
Now Marcos, who taught us the game, is a risk taker. He’d be that overdramatic, perfect contestant on Deal or No Deal. I can picture it right now, with all the people holding the little cases and his wife Angel in the background with their children. He is offered $20,000 but knows he has a good chance of getting more. He says “NO DEAL!” and the game keeps going. He’d get down to 2 Â cases, I’m sure of it.
We’re a tiny bit different, Marcos and I. He said at one point that I was definitely the safest player in the game. I’d get 300 points and call it good. First to 10,000 would win. “Slow and steady,” I kept saying. I didn’t win, but neither did Marcos.
I thought of it this morning. I’ve completely made the switch to brewing my coffee the pour over style. I was watching the water slowly drain through the coffee grounds and those words came to mind “slow and steady.”
The tortoise and the hare, I remembered. I started identifying the differences between the tortoise and the hare, and stopped only when I realized something that struck me.
The tortoise cared about the quality of the journey, moving at a consistent and intentional pace. He knew that one small, slow step in front of the other would get him to the end. The hare, on the other hand, was so confident in the finish that his journey was spent SLEEPING, and eventually neither the journey nor the finish mattered, because the tortoise took both.
I’m trying to live a better, more intentional story and it’s so tempting to only take on roles and stories that can be quickly accomplished, like my daily to-do list (which brings me a gross amount of joy). “Helped my friends raise money for their adoption? check. Helped raise money for camp? check. Helped bring together moms in my community? check.” and then to sit back, drink a cup of coffee and say “good race, Stephanie.”
I just finished reading The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom (READ IT, PLEASE). While her heart in the midst of suffering is admirable and inspiring, what really did me in was reading about how her entire life was spent reconciling people – to each other and to God – after the war. She never hit this place where she said “I have done my work! and now I shall celebrate!” She… kept…. going.
Just last night I was frustrated with the slow moving of my stories. I walked into Ross, hoping to maybe find a decent pair of cream colored gloves (I didn’t – any leads?) and realized how bitter my heart is getting because I want everything to happen more quickly than it should. You’d think that if you want to do good in the lives of other people, that the world would stop moving and the stars all align and everyone would run up to you offering their services, but I guess that’s not the case.
So I am trying to be a little less hare and a little more tortoise.
Slow and steady wins the race… and also cherishes the journey.Â
