Monday musings on March Madness & other stuff…

I think I watched one complete college basketball game this regular season. Yet I still found myself glued to “Selection Sunday” – the several hour long ‘epic’ discussion of which teams would actually be selected by the Committee, thereby gaining entrance into March Madness

And I’m going to fill out a bracket. One.

And as Selection Sunday came to an end, the whining began in earnest. From where, you ask? From the supporters, advocates, & coaches of teams that didn’t make it into the Dance, that’s who. Somehow, someway the Colorados, Virginia Techs, & St. Marys of the world fill the air with tales of woe, mistreatment, aiming blame at a long list of people…

Ultimately, they didn’t get in because they didn’t win their conference tournament. They didn’t win quality road games. They didn’t win. Enough.

The airwaves (radio & TV) will resound with the “woulda, shoulda, couldas” all week… or at least until Thursday when the ‘real” games begin in earnest.

All the whining & blame shifting reminds me of how common it is to point the finger for the wrongs, injustices, relational faux pas, & unmet expectations at others, instead of looking in the mirror & considering what role I have had in sowing & reaping the consequences I’m experiencing. Cause really, my choices to act/not act, invest in/ignore, feed/starve habits can & do affect me far more than the vast majority of choices others make. And if/when people don’t meet my expectations & gasp! let me down, throwing a tantrum, taking my proverbial ball & going home, whining & crying to all that will listen is a pretty tired, ineffectual way to live.

My brain feels silly this morning… the trip to LA last week (Monday-Wednesday) left me scrambling to stay afloat with school/work/family, so by the time I stopped to catch my breath, I realized that my brain was not in its usual place, & was demanding a respite from GOing.


Got reminded yesterday that its my responsibility to keep hope alive in my heart, even if its just tending the glowing embers & making sure that there is enough space for the hope-fire to burn. And a hope that is firmly rooted in my Living Hope, & my Hope that doesn’t disappoint, is a hope worth contending for.

Simple things can make all the difference. Like fitting into a pair of pants that one hasn’t been able to wear for 6 months. And having room to spare. THAT is a good thing.

I’m not on a diet. Just avoiding the refined sugars & refined flours again. And 3 weeks in, it’s working.