I am alive.

[Michael Phy]

I do what I do because it reminds me that I’m alive. The sweat on my back, the blood that drips from my cuts, the bruises on my arm, they remind me that I’m alive. When I’m out there, I know without any uncertainty, that I’m alive. Life there exists in a simple manner. It is there that I am away from the bondages of my past, the anxieties of my present, and the fears of my future. It is there, that I can simply be me and it is there that I can exist in that single moment, that single breath in time. I am free. No oppression. No shackles. No hindrances. All that is present is me and the path before me. They tell me it’s just a game. I’m not ignorant. I am aware of the trivialities and the nuances of it all. But there’s something else present on that court. There’s something else alive with the rhythm of that dribble. I feel it just as it feels me. It’s a calming rhythm. It’s a soothing rhythm. It’s a peaceful rhythm. It’s a trace, yet somewhere in that trace, there is peace. I find peace there. But it’s not the same. It’s a strange peace. A peace not associated with quietness or tranquility, but a peace of action, of adrenaline, of movement. A peace found in the belief that for that single moment, nothing else matters except what lies before me. A peace that takes all the intricacies of life and simplifies it into a single moment. I elevate. I rise. The stroke of my wrist sends the ball revolving through the air. It lands gently through the net. A single sound resonates for that moment. There is peace. There is life. I am alive. The crisp sound articulated as the net embraces its encounter with the ball reminds me that I’m alive. Swish. I am alive. Swish. I am alive.