Ping Pong and Writing
How a game I hardly play is teaching me truth about my writing
In August, I returned to the Transforming Center in Chicago for my second experience of a retreat focused on the spiritual disciplines of solitude and silence. For almost a year, (since attending the first retreat in September of 2023) I’ve tried to practice these disciplines daily. I initially realized that I’ve already experienced change around my ability to be still and know. Even so, after returning home committed to the deep study of these practices, it became clear there is still so much to unlock, to learn and unlearn, and to experience with a God who loves me exactly how I am.
In August and September, the noise inside my head felt so loud. My thoughts are often ruckus– as a 7 on the enneagram – I am a thoughtful, thinking thinker. Suddenly, getting silent felt almost impossible. As I reentered the soccer coaching world, it became evident that I had some very old patterns in place that would simply not serve me well in leadership. One of them being relentless thoughts that affected my sleep and my ability for the presence of attention. I found myself crying out to God regularly to help me manage the chaos of my mind. One of the ways God met me in the madness was so fun.
As I sat in my sacred rocker one morning, my thoughts were wildly bouncing around in my brain. All the bouncing thoughts were related to my soccer team of middle school girls. Suddenly, I felt this invitation to bounce those thoughts to God – like a ping-pong ball. So, I did. For a moment there was relief, but then new thoughts pinged into their place. I asked God what to do. “Send them back to me.” That morning, I played thought ping-pong with God. I started to chuckle. That’s funny God. My counselor added a consideration – “Maybe God’s trying to remind you that the things you are thinking about (obsessing about?) are supposed to be fun. It’s a game, Adi.” OHHHH yeah!!
Fast forward. Back in Chicago, post-election, a new retreat on prayer ahead of us, but first my friends in this community were sharing their experiences over the quarter. Each of us experiencing solitude and silence uniquely and in community. My friends shared experiences filled with profound imagery, deep sorrow, and real concern over the future. Originally wanting to share with them the fun of my ping-pong match, instead, I found myself asking God what was up. Why did I get a quarter with moments of playful laughter in a time such as this where for so many people sorrow, fear and darkness felt so close at hand?
God spoke to my soul, I delight in my people. Yes, so much of what humanity does causes sorrow. Yes, at times people’s choices ignite anger, sadness and pain. But I need you to know THIS: I love my people. I delight in them. I want to spend time with them and enjoy them.
A week later, I sat in my office with my spiritual director on Zoom.
“What is it you love about ping pong?” my spiritual director bounced that question my way as we talked about my returning desire to write.
Well, I don’t love ping-pong. In fact, I hardly play it. But when I do:
I pretty much always have fun.
I enjoy it because I play with people I love.
It’s regulating because of the rhythmic flow: bounce and hit, bounce and hit.
You must be present, following the ball from bounce to paddle takes mindful presence.
It creates playful connection.
There’s usually conversation or silly trash talk and even desire to see someone else succeed.
I feel good no matter who wins.
It can be played solo which could be a cool solitude and prayerful experience for a girl who loves embodied prayer.
My spiritual director responded. “How has writing been like ping-pong for you in your life?”
I think writing met the ping-pong experience qualifications when I was young. Enjoyable, playfully connective, regulating with flow, mindful wordplay and intention, no pressure to succeed and just feeling good and having fun. When I was small, I wrote for pleasure: no pressure for grades or responses. When did that change? Can it return? Today, I hope so.
Would you join me for some writing ping-pong in this space? If I ping you some thoughts would you pong back your own? How about a game of wordplay that leads us to deeper connection? Can we share delights, find the beauty in the chaos and get mindful about being in a world that too often feels challenging and exhausting?
Not everything I write will feel fun, but perhaps in the connection between us, it will feel intentional, meaningful and regulating. Writing isn’t exactly like ping-pong. More often than not, I’ll catch and hold the offerings you send me: your joys and sorrows or your hopes and fears. And by the grace of God perhaps my writing will reflect heart-truths back to you. And as we playfully engage with one another’s worlds, we’ll know that amidst the mayhem, there are people who want to connect, love, be present and enjoy the little things together.
It’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, and so I’ll sign off with this. I’m so grateful every day for my family. Mountain Roots Photography captured our silliness and love in this photo.