Breathe in, breathe out. Short breaths, now long. I resize my world between these lines. This is as still as I will get.
Basketball covers over a multitude of sins. My dullness, cynicism, and rage.
I set my intention. The bouncing ball beckons me to my trance.
We are here. At the park, the gym, our temple.
Sweat pours down our bodies as our focus narrows.
Put the ball in the hoop.
Everything about this is so much easier than sitting still.
Sitting is difficult.
Basketball is easy.
Meditation is not a gateway to productivity.
Basketball is a gateway to joy.
We do not endure basketball.
We hope the time does not run out.
We hope the sun stays bright enough to light the court.
Another and again.
Everything about this is frivolous and essential.
We love you, Basketball.
Thank you for loving us back.