Man! A Tee!

Recently, David, Hunter and I had the amazing adventure of diving with the manatees in Florida. We prepared for weeks, watching every manatee encounter video that YouTube could share.

I was particularly excited about this adventure because of the manatees' appearance as one of the most perfectly useless, patently serene and purposely sleepy creatures. My A-type overachieving brain just couldn't believe that something this calm and aimless could survive in our Darwinian world. I wanted to make sure they were in fact what they seemed, and perhaps absorb some of their serenity.


I committed to turning off my phone and iPad, disconnecting from my modern world, in order to experience the manatee utopia in all its quiet glory. I wanted to walk on the serene side. I needed these amazing creatures to slow down my brain, fill my heart and send me back into my world with a more peaceful perspective on my day to day.

I know, that's a lot of expectations to put on creatures that can't even manage to thrive as a species without man's intervention. But surely their pinnacle of peace had to rub off on me one way or another.

At 6:30am Saturday morning, reality set in and I began to suspect that this might not be the spiritual retreat I was craving. The fact that I had any realization at 6:30am on a vacation Saturday morning should have clued me into the fact that "sea cows" weren't going to calm my spirit and have me humming Kumbaya any time soon.

We threw together gear in a coffee deprived fog and rushed to meet our boat at the dock for the appointed 8:00am take off, only to have to wait almost an hour for the dive boat operator to get this show going. By the time we finally arrived at the first manatee viewing area, it was clear I wasn't the only one wanting manatee-inspired serenity.

In fact, when my friend texted asking how our trip went after we got back, I summed up my manatee experience this way.

How was your manatee adventure?
A lot like Disney World. Overcrowded with dumb tourists, and you either have to beat the crowds at the crack of dawn or wait in a long line for them to clear out. And, to top it off, I got the odd sense of exiting through the gift shop everywhere we went.

Now in defense of the awesome people and businesses in Crystal River, Florida, I'd sell the heck out the fact that I had endangered rolly-polly cuties in my back yard too. I'd have a So Ugly They're Cute and They Won't Be Around Much Longer Festival to celebrate them and finance my home improvements to show them off. After all, sales and marketing are my thing.

But giving hapless A-type tourists the impression that they could completely unwind and live like a manatee in purposeless tranquility, even for a weekend, might be where I drew the line.

Finally, after sifting through the tons of bottom silt thrown up into the water by throngs of fin-wearing tourists, I saw and interacted with some manatees. It was more than worth the price of admission. They are sweet and cute and playful and lazy. They are so ugly they're cute. And while it's one I may never understand, they have personality.

And so do I. My personality is driven and busy and well-planned and perfectly purposeful. I am the anti-manatee. But that's OK. Because we're both in the universe, there is balance.

Watching the A-type rangers and volunteers bark orders and quote signs and videos to inconsiderate tourists made me realize, manatees need us just the way we are. They need us to protect them. The fact that they need us to protect them from us is a whole nother conundrum to tackle another day.

For now, I am walking away from this once in a lifetime experience with the peace that God made me just the way I am, on purpose. And an "I heart Manatees" t-shirt.

Coaching

My ten year old son has played some sort of organized sport since he was four. Soccer, baseball, basketball, football...we've played seasons of them all. And we have been blessed with great coaches throughout the seasons of his life.

Some of Hunter's coaches were nurturing, there's not much more you can do with four-year-old soccer toddlers. Some were disciplined. All were strong Christian men. And then there is Hunter's dad, my better half. David Howard, who never imagined anyone would let him coach his own kid, much less theirs, turned out to be one of the best coaches our son has ever had, both on and off the field.

Of all the sports he's played, soccer has remained Hunter's favorite. That may have something to do with him having always been on winning soccer teams with amazing coaches. Or it could just be he likes running up and down the field.

Whatever the reason, as soon as they opened sign ups for him to play for the first time with his school soccer program, Hunter was the first one committed.

From the beginning, we knew we would learn a whole lot more from this soccer season than we did from any of our previous seasons. As his mom, I figured out real quick that this soccer season would be a lesson in patience. And for Hunter and his teammates, it looks like this season will be a stark lesson in self leadership.

You see, Hunter isn't the only child I know that has benefited from great coaching in their early sports careers. Most of his friends have learned and played under great coaches, and a lot of the time, as teammates as well. In fact, of the 15 -20 boys on this soccer team, 10 -12 of them have played on the same team for the same coach in more than one season.

I mentioned my need for patience this soccer season because it is a lack of coaching staff that has made the blessing of our previous coaches all the more poignant. The coach we have is great, he's just having to coach three teams and three different games, sometimes two at the same time, while the school works to get other coaches ready to go. This poor fella doesn't stand a chance. He is heroic, but it appears doomed, if he doesn't get some help.

So, to bring the lessons learned full circle, Hunter and his friends need all of the self leadership skills they've not yet developed to get through this season. In fact, here's what they'll have to learn for themselves that their previous coaches have done for them.

• Putting a bunch of superstars together doesn't make a team.

Our fastest kid is FAST. But if he's way out in front and passes the ball, no one is there to get it. He has to slow down a little to make sure he's covered. And each boy will have to be honest with himself and his team about where his talents are best applied to get the best team result.

• Having great skills and knowing when to use them are two very different disciplines.

All of the fancy footwork they've learned looks great. But if their teammates can't keep up with them, it's just showing off. They've got to get the best kids with the right skills in the right place at the right time to be successful. Any other grandstanding means failure.

• COMMUNICATION isn't the most important thing. It's the ONLY thing.

Without a coach barking direction at them, the boys have to talk to each other or they're doomed. They have to let each other know where they're going, why, and what they plan to do when they get there. The Goal isn't the only goal of being a team. Getting to the goal together is critical.

• Win or lose, when you're the one on the field, you have to take responsibility for that outcome.

After losing their first game, and remember, they aren't very used to losing, the boys all whined. The field is too big. We didn't have a coach most of the game. We weren't ready.

That's life. They are likely never going to be completely ready for their opponents in life. But if they take responsibility for the parts that they can fix - train harder, run faster, communicate more and better - then they're 50% closer to winning than they were before they did nothing waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

Our second game ended in a tie. That's better than a loss. The boys all seemed to be getting the above lessons, that they'd have to do more for themselves to be successful in this season of their lives than ever before.

As a mom, seeing my son learning these important life lessons in vivid clarity, I can honestly say I'll be thankful for our overloaded coach. I will be patient and kind to him because he's teaching my son as much, if not more than, all of the other coaches he's ever had. I imagine quite unintentionally, this coach is teaching my son what it means to be a young man, responsible for his own success or failure, in what is thankfully, one of the safest places he could learn these lessons.