Being a parent has turned out to be one of the highlights of my life. It is hard to summarize all the ways it has changed me. However, the most important way in which I have been transformed is the feeling of unconditional love I have for my children. I didn’t know this type of love before kids. It obviously doesn’t have the same positive effect on every parent but it has transformed me.
My 9-year-old son and I have a special bond. He was born with a clubfoot and so was I. Thanks to my parents I received the medical attention I needed at a young age. Since then I have been able to participate in any physical activity I’ve wanted from playing sports to climbing 14,ooo foot mountains.
Through our diligence and the skill of his surgeon our son has been able to overcome his clubfoot and play like any other kid. One of the things my son enjoys is baseball. He watched as the Cubs won the World Series overcoming decades of defeat. He was drawn to the drama and instantly became a Cubs fan.
As I witnessed my son’s enthusiasm for baseball an idea was born: Wouldn’t it be great if he and I took a boy’s trip next year to see the Cubs play? I posed the idea to my wife who instantly gave the thumbs up. I asked my son and he nearly fainted at the prospect of seeing Anthony Rizzo. Over the next few months we planned when and where we would take our trip. We decided on St. Louis.
Our first night in St. Louis was exciting. The Cubs were playing a series against the Cardinals. We didn’t have tickets to the Friday night game but we made our way to the stadium anyway. We walked up to the big gates and peered in as the throngs of fans cheered. It was a beautiful night, not too warm, not too cool.
The next day we arrived at the gates three hours early. Mack wanted to watch batting practice to collect as many game balls as possible. We stood in line for an hour until the gates opened. We rushed to the left field seats hoping to catch a few home run balls. However, he and I noticed that not many people were around us and a huge crowd had formed along the first base sideline.
We soon discovered the first base line is where most of the balls end up. It’s also where the players go to sign autographs. It was now five rows deep of people with no way to get close. We tried anyway but to no avail. Batting practice ended. The players left the field. Mack’s ball count: zero.
After batting practice but before the game started we walked around the stadium. I sat behind home plate taking in the view. Mack was sullen as he walked back and forth on every isle searching for a stray ball. He never found one.
As game time drew closer we decided to head to our seats. Mack wanted two things on this trip. First, he wanted a game ball more than all the candy in the stadium. Second, he wanted to sit behind the Cubs dugout. So far I was 0 for 1 in the ball department. As I studied our tickets I discovered two things. We were sitting behind the Cubs dugout but it was three levels up. I hadn’t realize this when I bought the tickets but now it made sense why they were so cheap. Now I was 0 for 2.
We climbed the spiraling staircase until we reached the very top of the stadium. We weren’t at the tippy top but we were spitting distance away. Mack saw several kids walking by with balls and became ecstatic then sad. He went off to look for balls again (or possibly buy one from a kid) but had no luck.
The game started and Mack made his way back to our seats. As soon as he sat down we both made a terrible realization: He was too short to see over the crowd down to the field. He literally couldn’t see the game. My Dad Score was in a tailspin.
As the innings rolled by I knew I had to do something. Anything. I scanned the lower seats and noticed quite a few were open. Finally I landed on 4 seats on the front row right behind left field.
I nervously eyed the row of seats as the innings ticked by. By the end of the 5th inning no one had claimed them. At the top of the 6th inning I told Mack to follow me. We headed down the spiral staircase and made our way over to the other side of the stadium. As I was about to make my big move to snag the seats I realized I left my phone at the top of the stadium. Back we trudged up the spiraling stairs to get my phone. Fifteen minutes later we were once again poised behind the empty left field deck of seats. Still no one had taken them. He followed me as we made our way to the front row. We sat down and waited a few moments to see if anyone kicked us out. Minutes passed with only a smiling glance from an older lady next to us. Her look seemed to be saying, “You aren’t the regular season ticket holders that usually sit there. I know that and you know that but your kid is cute so enjoy!” We scanned the field from our incredible new location and saw Kyle Schwarber of the Chicago Cubs right in front of us. Mack was ecstatic! Score one for dad.
Mack noticed the kid across the isle had a baseball. He wanted to ask the kid if it was a game ball and if so would he sell it to him. He was too shy and asked me to do it. I told him no and he pouted. Finally, I asked and the kid said it was not a game ball. He had brought it.
Mack then noticed a little girl behind us who had a ball. With his courage from my interaction he asked the girl if it was a game ball. She said it was. Would she be willing to sell it to him, he asked. She immediately said no. Mack looked at her father, “It’s her ball” was all he said. Mack was riding a rollercoaster of emotion.
He turned his attention back to the field. Noticing Schwarber was warming up he started jumping up and down. Mack waved his glove around while yelling. Kyle never even looked our way.
It was the bottom of the 9th and time was running out. The St. Louis Cardinals left fielder, Tommy Pham, was warming up before the inning started. Mack continued his routine of yelling and waving his glove. Seconds before the inning started Tommy turned to the stands and saw Mack waving his glove. Tommy looked at me then back at Mack then at me again. I saw Tommy give me the look that said, “I’m throwing this ball in the stands. You better catch it dad.”
Tommy reached back and let one fly. It cleared Mack’s glove and given its trajectory I knew it was just out of my reach as well. In a split second I glanced around to see who and what was around me. I saw steps, a hand rail and the guy selling beer. I believe The Universe placed that wonderful beer guy in the perfect spot. He was hunched over serving a beer and making change when I put my hand on his shoulder and launched myself in the air. My momentum carried the beer guy with me on top of him into the row of people the next isle over. But I caught the ball!
As I climbed off the beer guy and out of my neighbor’s seats I opened my glove and showed the ball to Mack. I will always remember the look on his face as one of my favorite parenting moments. All the wrongs I had committed on this trip faded to the background as he held the coveted game ball. The crowd around us erupted in applause. It couldn’t have been scripted any better by Hollywood. We left the game elated, bought some famous St. Louis BBQ and brought it back to our hotel where we relived each moment of the day over and over.
Finding flow is a conundrum of sorts. On one hand flow just sort of happens when you aren’t looking. On the other hand it doesn’t just happen. The conditions have to be right. You have to take risks. You have to put yourself in places where flow could happen without the expectation that it will happen. When you create a space for flow -- like I did by commandeering front row seats and Mack did by jumping like crazy to get Tommy’s attention -- things happen.
Jamie Wheal and Steven Kotler, authors of Stealing Fire, know a thing or two about flow. They talk about how when we are in flow we experience four non-ordinary states of consciousness: timelessness, effortlessness, richness and selflessness. As I reflect on that magical moment at Busch Stadium I identify with each of these flow states. An important point about finding the open seats and unfolding drama with Tommy Pham was that just prior to these events I was paying attention to my son and being present to the moment. I was not mindlessly scanning social media. I was patient, hopeful, watching. As long as there was time left in the game there was still a chance of getting a game ball however remote it might be.
Like money we cannot pursue flow directly. We must do something to earn it. Create situations in your life where flow can happen. Research suggests it is the highest state we can be in as humans. That is why athletes and artists of all sorts will go to great lengths to manifest flow. The only thing more rewarding than finding flow is finding flow with other people.
My 9-year-old son and I have a special bond. He was born with a clubfoot and so was I. Thanks to my parents I received the medical attention I needed at a young age. Since then I have been able to participate in any physical activity I’ve wanted from playing sports to climbing 14,ooo foot mountains.
Through our diligence and the skill of his surgeon our son has been able to overcome his clubfoot and play like any other kid. One of the things my son enjoys is baseball. He watched as the Cubs won the World Series overcoming decades of defeat. He was drawn to the drama and instantly became a Cubs fan.
As I witnessed my son’s enthusiasm for baseball an idea was born: Wouldn’t it be great if he and I took a boy’s trip next year to see the Cubs play? I posed the idea to my wife who instantly gave the thumbs up. I asked my son and he nearly fainted at the prospect of seeing Anthony Rizzo. Over the next few months we planned when and where we would take our trip. We decided on St. Louis.
Our first night in St. Louis was exciting. The Cubs were playing a series against the Cardinals. We didn’t have tickets to the Friday night game but we made our way to the stadium anyway. We walked up to the big gates and peered in as the throngs of fans cheered. It was a beautiful night, not too warm, not too cool.
The next day we arrived at the gates three hours early. Mack wanted to watch batting practice to collect as many game balls as possible. We stood in line for an hour until the gates opened. We rushed to the left field seats hoping to catch a few home run balls. However, he and I noticed that not many people were around us and a huge crowd had formed along the first base sideline.
We soon discovered the first base line is where most of the balls end up. It’s also where the players go to sign autographs. It was now five rows deep of people with no way to get close. We tried anyway but to no avail. Batting practice ended. The players left the field. Mack’s ball count: zero.
After batting practice but before the game started we walked around the stadium. I sat behind home plate taking in the view. Mack was sullen as he walked back and forth on every isle searching for a stray ball. He never found one.
As game time drew closer we decided to head to our seats. Mack wanted two things on this trip. First, he wanted a game ball more than all the candy in the stadium. Second, he wanted to sit behind the Cubs dugout. So far I was 0 for 1 in the ball department. As I studied our tickets I discovered two things. We were sitting behind the Cubs dugout but it was three levels up. I hadn’t realize this when I bought the tickets but now it made sense why they were so cheap. Now I was 0 for 2.
We climbed the spiraling staircase until we reached the very top of the stadium. We weren’t at the tippy top but we were spitting distance away. Mack saw several kids walking by with balls and became ecstatic then sad. He went off to look for balls again (or possibly buy one from a kid) but had no luck.
The game started and Mack made his way back to our seats. As soon as he sat down we both made a terrible realization: He was too short to see over the crowd down to the field. He literally couldn’t see the game. My Dad Score was in a tailspin.
As the innings rolled by I knew I had to do something. Anything. I scanned the lower seats and noticed quite a few were open. Finally I landed on 4 seats on the front row right behind left field.
I nervously eyed the row of seats as the innings ticked by. By the end of the 5th inning no one had claimed them. At the top of the 6th inning I told Mack to follow me. We headed down the spiral staircase and made our way over to the other side of the stadium. As I was about to make my big move to snag the seats I realized I left my phone at the top of the stadium. Back we trudged up the spiraling stairs to get my phone. Fifteen minutes later we were once again poised behind the empty left field deck of seats. Still no one had taken them. He followed me as we made our way to the front row. We sat down and waited a few moments to see if anyone kicked us out. Minutes passed with only a smiling glance from an older lady next to us. Her look seemed to be saying, “You aren’t the regular season ticket holders that usually sit there. I know that and you know that but your kid is cute so enjoy!” We scanned the field from our incredible new location and saw Kyle Schwarber of the Chicago Cubs right in front of us. Mack was ecstatic! Score one for dad.
Mack noticed the kid across the isle had a baseball. He wanted to ask the kid if it was a game ball and if so would he sell it to him. He was too shy and asked me to do it. I told him no and he pouted. Finally, I asked and the kid said it was not a game ball. He had brought it.
Mack then noticed a little girl behind us who had a ball. With his courage from my interaction he asked the girl if it was a game ball. She said it was. Would she be willing to sell it to him, he asked. She immediately said no. Mack looked at her father, “It’s her ball” was all he said. Mack was riding a rollercoaster of emotion.
He turned his attention back to the field. Noticing Schwarber was warming up he started jumping up and down. Mack waved his glove around while yelling. Kyle never even looked our way.
It was the bottom of the 9th and time was running out. The St. Louis Cardinals left fielder, Tommy Pham, was warming up before the inning started. Mack continued his routine of yelling and waving his glove. Seconds before the inning started Tommy turned to the stands and saw Mack waving his glove. Tommy looked at me then back at Mack then at me again. I saw Tommy give me the look that said, “I’m throwing this ball in the stands. You better catch it dad.”
Tommy reached back and let one fly. It cleared Mack’s glove and given its trajectory I knew it was just out of my reach as well. In a split second I glanced around to see who and what was around me. I saw steps, a hand rail and the guy selling beer. I believe The Universe placed that wonderful beer guy in the perfect spot. He was hunched over serving a beer and making change when I put my hand on his shoulder and launched myself in the air. My momentum carried the beer guy with me on top of him into the row of people the next isle over. But I caught the ball!
As I climbed off the beer guy and out of my neighbor’s seats I opened my glove and showed the ball to Mack. I will always remember the look on his face as one of my favorite parenting moments. All the wrongs I had committed on this trip faded to the background as he held the coveted game ball. The crowd around us erupted in applause. It couldn’t have been scripted any better by Hollywood. We left the game elated, bought some famous St. Louis BBQ and brought it back to our hotel where we relived each moment of the day over and over.
Finding flow is a conundrum of sorts. On one hand flow just sort of happens when you aren’t looking. On the other hand it doesn’t just happen. The conditions have to be right. You have to take risks. You have to put yourself in places where flow could happen without the expectation that it will happen. When you create a space for flow -- like I did by commandeering front row seats and Mack did by jumping like crazy to get Tommy’s attention -- things happen.
Jamie Wheal and Steven Kotler, authors of Stealing Fire, know a thing or two about flow. They talk about how when we are in flow we experience four non-ordinary states of consciousness: timelessness, effortlessness, richness and selflessness. As I reflect on that magical moment at Busch Stadium I identify with each of these flow states. An important point about finding the open seats and unfolding drama with Tommy Pham was that just prior to these events I was paying attention to my son and being present to the moment. I was not mindlessly scanning social media. I was patient, hopeful, watching. As long as there was time left in the game there was still a chance of getting a game ball however remote it might be.
Like money we cannot pursue flow directly. We must do something to earn it. Create situations in your life where flow can happen. Research suggests it is the highest state we can be in as humans. That is why athletes and artists of all sorts will go to great lengths to manifest flow. The only thing more rewarding than finding flow is finding flow with other people.