playing hurt

We pick up the detritus of life: our knees stop working as well, clicking at odd times, not quite as smooth as they used to. We have a harder time opening up, a harder time trusting, carrying emotional burdens, never quite fully moving on.

We heal, but never fully, never back to the way things were. A little less fast, a little less strong, a little more achy, a little more morose. We learn to do by intention things that once came by instinct, thinking through the form, calculating the risk. 

Yes, life comes after us. But we keep on going. We don’t just play when we feel 100%, we play when we’re hurt—because we still play. Still take on the game, games that can be won, most of all, games that are fun. 

Because we’re a little more beat up, but also a little wilier. A little more hurt but a little more worldly wise. And life can come knocking, but life better look the fuck out, because this slightly older dog has got new tricks—and sure as hell isn’t afraid of playing hurt. 

Thank you. Let’s have a great day.