Sigh. I had a lot on my plate Tuesday. My WIP. The seemingly catastrophic failure of my Quicken program, locking me out of all my financial data. Finishing up Blue, i.e., critiquing, for today. And yet. Without hesitation, in what felt like bad weather about to get worse, off Tom and I went to play tennis at Rock Barn Golf and Spa.  We brought iPods, just in case. There were only two clay courts [the others were flooded] so it was a mix of clay and hardtru. Not bad. So. sometimes I have to think, what draws me there every Tuesday and Thursday. Well. Yes. It is the tennis. I have a good time. I make some great shots. That’s good. I always make some not so good shots, others downright bad. That’s okay. Truth is,  no one’s life is on the line. No money is involved. I’m not holding the fate of the world in my hands.

Sometimes it’s nice to just play. To not have to worry. When we lived in Medfield and life took some wicked turns, a two hour game of tennis with tennis friends who had no clue as to my life, willing to stand on either side of the net and just play the game was a mini-vacation. It took me out of myself. Out of my life. Gave me the chance to breathe and then come back. Not always refreshed, but somehow open to getting back to it, regardless.

From the time I was in college to now, a span of some forty-five years, tennis has always been my go to relief valve. Even when the people I played with were playing a more political and manipulative game than me, I still loved it. Do love it. And I have to thank that wonderful professor at San Fernando Valley State College, whose name I can not remember, but who thought tennis was the gift God gave to us to enjoy.

And. It is.