For The Win In Rehoboth Beach

I’m writing this post from my condo in Rehoboth Beach, DE. My family from Oregon is here, and so are the Bidens.

It’sapparently the place to be the first week of August. 

My granddaughter has been killing it playing Muffin Pan Mania, a boardwalk game where you roll whiffle balls toward a grid of depressions within a containment table.

 The color of the depression determines the level of your prize. There are only two gold depressions. Only two chances to win a large prize.

The first night she won! Here she is with her giant pineapple:

She was beyond thrilled. All the adults roared. The odds! Go figure! Let’s take Sylvan to Vegas!

Of course, the next night, she wanted to go again. 

Oh geez. No chance. But…okay. G went off to play Skee-Ball with Obie. Emily and I stayed to console her when she lost.

But she won again! Now, we were in hysterics. 

Definitely taking her to Vegas.

Feeling hot and lucky and sensing that her brother was a little envious of her big win, she wanted to play again— this time for Obie. She wanted to win him a big prize.

But he didn’t want it. He wanted to win his own prize.

Because (and here’s the lesson) it’s not about the prize. It’s about working for it and using your skill (or your lucky muffin pan mojo) to win. 

Prizes and trophies and medals and giant stuffed avocados don’t mean anything unless you earn them. 

You must do something, preferably something hard, for the prize to feel good. Otherwise, the trophy is just a piece of junk. And the more arduous the journey, the greater the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, even if nobody else notices. 

I’ve been watching this kid practice his skimboarding technique every night. 

After the beach clears out, he arrives with his board and works the waves. 

He repeatedly wipes out. It doesn’t deter him in the least. Epic wipe-out after epic wipe-out, and what does he do? He just catches his breath and goes at it again. 

Sometimes he gets a little bit of a ride, and that seems incentive enough to go back at it. 

It’s the process of mastery. It’s where all the good stuff is.

We all have to pick our games, though. We have to decide what we want to master and what’s worth wiping out repeatedly for.

For example. I do this blog every week. It’s extremely low stakes. Nobody cares if I post every week but me. 

But I care because I made a commitment to myself. 

Today I am at the beach, sitting in the condo while everyone else is out doing beach things. I’m struggling a little to focus. I want to go out and play. 

This is my little hard thing. I’m guessing today will be one of those days I’ll be proudest of in January if I wind up hitting my year of Thursday entries.

I didn’t want to do it, but I did it anyway. 

I know I’ll be glad to have memorialized this day.