The other day I got a surprise invitation. Daughter Karlyn saw our new cornhole game and asked me if I’d like to play with her. Cornhole, for the uninitiated, is a very simple game consisting of two boards about two feet by four feet that sit on legs at one end, elevating that end about twelve inches. Each board has a hole at the high end, about six inches in diameter. The boards are set on the ground about 25 feet apart. Each player gets four small cloth bags filled with sand, and the object of the game is to toss the bags into the holes: three points for getting a bag in the hole, one point for landing a bag on the board. There are more detailed rules, but that gives you an idea of the nature of the game.
Karlyn and I played three games. I won all three.
In the course of playing, however, I observed some truths that emerged:
1. “I don’t want to practice. I just want to win.” Karlyn made that statement after I assured her that playing more would give her practice so she could learn how to play better. It’s a fact of life that when we put our minds to doing something, and we devote the time and effort to accomplishing that goal, we more often than not find ourselves at least doing better even if we never achieve the goal fully. I know that, had I set the time aside to practice playing the guitar, I could be a much better musician than I am now (one of my many regrets). I don’t expect to be able to pick up the instrument on some given day in the future and find myself playing like Tommy Emmanuel because a) I haven’t put in the sweat equity, and b) Tommy was born with an uncanny ability to play the guitar like no one else (he’ll tell you that). Karlyn, on the other hand, feels that she should simply be able to DO without having to WORK at it. She’ll learn eventually (I hope) that her outlook is going to prevent her from experiencing a lot of satisfaction in life simply because she’s not willing to devote the time and effort to achieve a goal.
2. Tossing the bags. For whatever reason, Karlyn insisted on tossing her bags overhand, as though she were pitching a baseball. I pointed out that doing so sent her bags sailing at a low angle that usually resulted in the bags ricocheting off the board. I suggested that she try tossing underhand, which would give the bags more loft and tend to let them drop onto the boards more directly. She came up with some excuse for continuing to throw her way. End result: she lost all the games we played.
I believe these examples are also good life lessons (sorry for putting my daughter in a negative light, but if she had a healthier attitude, I wouldn’t be able to do that, would I?). And perhaps her difficult outlook can help someone else to rethink his/her own. First lesson: it’s absolutely necessary to work for what we wish to achieve. “Winning” (however we interpret that) almost never drops out of the sky for us. And, second lesson: it doesn’t hurt to try someone else’s advice in order to do things better. We are, after all, social beings who need one another, and when we can learn from someone else, we strengthen ourselves as well.