I recently spent some time watching my 18 year old son compete in a football tournament and have since been reflecting on, and appreciating, the changes in my attachment to sport, and to competition in general.
I grew up in a family in which most of my siblings were involved in sport in some way and the competitive nature of the games that we had between ourselves was considered quite normal and healthy. We were all very passionate about sport, and in particular the national rugby team, which was often the source of intense debate / arguments about team selections or the result of a recent game.
I had grown up with this attitude to sport and competition and I carried it on with my own children. I can remember encouraging many playful, fun times together with my sons to turn into competitive battles. Kicking a ball in the back yard, shooting some baskets with the basketball, playing handball and even going for a walk together and finding a stone to kick along the path would all inevitably end up becoming competitive.
As I have said, this behaviour felt ‘normal’ and ‘healthy’ and was seen by those around me, and society in general, as a healthy, fun way to connect and build relationships with others. I was strongly influenced by the images I saw in the media and the way sports stars were held up as role models.
I was introduced to Universal Medicine and the teachings of the Ancient Wisdom, as presented by Serge Benhayon, about 9 years ago. Since then I have learnt to reconnect to the tender loving man that I naturally am and feel more able to claim these qualities in my everyday livingness, and by doing so reflect something different to those around me.
These changes have been gradual and are ongoing, but the increased awareness has allowed me to feel the enormous impact sport has on me and on those playing it.
I have become more deeply aware of:
- Being pulled into the emotion of the game and the increased anxiety I feel in my body as a result.
- The energy of the supporters when attending games and how this often changes during the course of the game depending on how their team is performing.
- How physical sport can be (even ‘non-contact’ sport), and just how abusive players are being to their bodies and to each other.
- The emptiness I can feel in many of the players and how sport is used to fill this void. Even after winning a big game players can still feel empty and lonely with no sense of joy to be felt.
- How beneath the tough persona created by many of the men who play contact sports just how gentle they truly are, and how this persona is created in order to fit the image of how a ‘real’ sportsman should be.
- The extent to which I allowed discussing sport to become a means of connecting to other men. I settled for the safe, superficial conversations about sport and work as a way of ‘fitting in’ and as a way of avoiding expressing to others how I was truly feeling.
I found that how I expressed with other men influenced how I expressed with family and friends. I realise now that expressing in this way prevented me from experiencing the joy that can come from allowing others to feel the tender loving man I am in my expression and feeling the connection with them evolve as a result.
There were over 300 gorgeous young men attending this football tournament with a huge amount of time and effort involved in organising and running it, and while it may have been seen by some as successful, the failure in my opinion was the lost opportunity for these young men to truly connect to one another. I felt this connection was distorted or destroyed by competition.
By Peter Campbell (55), Support Worker, Tauranga, New Zealand
Further Reading:
Sports Competition – the Pursuit of (Feelings of) Emptiness
My Turnaround from Competitive Running to Connection with Me
Competitive sports: the pursuit of emptiness
610 Comments
Sport is never truly good for anyone’s body be it those who play or watch. It is not in our nature to be competitive so it is an assault on our body to be so.
If we get pleasure from being good at something, it can be enough to temporarily fill our emptiness. No matter what injuries we may sustain we push through to get our hit. But if only we stopped and realised that the relief we seek is just a drop in the ocean of the joy we would know if we stopped playing these crazy games.
Competition destroys brotherhood. Hence, sport is introduced to be better than another – no equality, no matter for ‘fun’ or not fun, it is the same.
When we connect to who we truly are there is no need to be better than another , only the instant ability to connect in that love with another. This is the only connection we can be in brotherhood.
Competitive sport offers zero true connection, and yet to say that, at least in Australia, is almost blasphemy. Nevertheless the facts are clear. From school sports up to professional sports it is about one winning at the cost of another, and so the opportunity for equality is removed.
When we look clearly at the effect of competitive sport on players, spectators, supporters, reporters etc we realise that there is no such thing as ‘healthy competition.’
Our current standards of what connection and relationships mean do not really represent the true sense of the word or offer us the depth of the potential that is on offer. If we see connection to merely be coming together with the purpose to defeat another through competition, then we are really missing a whole other level of relationship that truly honors who we are and the depth of magnificence we can live together.
I would say every opportunity where we don’t truly connect to each other, is an opportunity lost for growth and more love.
Yesterday a couple of men shared, in the workshop I facilitated, with full enthusiasm about the sports they play. This made me realize how this ‘normal’ competitiveness that we experience in sport is being brought into work and celebrated there. Whereas when you ask men, most of them don’t like this part of their work where they have to be better than another. They prefer working together in equality and give space to their delicate nature.
Society often justifies why competition is good for us, but we all know the truth of how it really feels in our bodies.
In a competition I experienced most times that it wasn’t enjoyable as most participants won’t be the winner and, even when I was the winner it wasn’t that great. Competition definitely provided a relief from other parts of my life as a youth as it is very involving but once the need for distraction goes, competition becomes quite unappealing.
This feels very beautiful to experience and reflect to others, ‘I have learnt to reconnect to the tender loving man that I naturally am and feel more able to claim these qualities in my everyday livingness, and by doing so reflect something different to those around me.’
What’s also interesting is the level of competition that occurs on a much smaller scale in life – the desire to be better than another person at something, or to make the best product etc – these not so obvious forms of competition still promote one person against another and destroy the fabric of the society we live in and take us away from the fact that we are all here to do this together.
Yes, trying to get ahead or worrying about falling behind takes a lot of effort that may not support the task(s) at hand.
“Being pulled into the emotion of the game and the increased anxiety I feel in my body as a result.”- Recently I found myself getting sucked back into an attachment to a football team’s playoff game outcome while seeing them on the TV at the gym, even though I had not watched football or followed it in any way for 14 years. This surprised me, and showed just how insidious competitive sports are in drawing people into the drama of the games in a way that can ‘take the edge off’ life by living vicariously through your favourite team for a few hours in order to perhaps escape one’s issues temporarily, but only have to come back to deal with them later.
When we are in anything to win there is a tension and hardness, a protection and usually fighting spirit. What a difference when we can play a game for the contact we have with others and the fun, lightheartedness and silliness we can share in together.
I really dont think competition has served anyone at all. It keeps us separate and unequal and the world does not need more of that.
I absolutely agree, Sarah. In truth competition is a perfect distraction from true brotherhood and how amazing working together in equality is.
This is so true, ‘The emptiness I can feel in many of the players and how sport is used to fill this void. Even after winning a big game players can still feel empty and lonely with no sense of joy to be felt.’
Sport is the ‘safe’ way for men to connect and be more affectionate with each other. Even though it’s not the real affection that is naturally there between them, but as this is not so easily expressed, sport can be a way for people to have a false sense of camaraderie, but it misses the depth they actually crave.
It takes a very humble man to be able to see that the competition he taught to his children was not the love or the care that he thought it was.
This takes me back to when I played sports and I totally remember being involved in the game and that anxiety that my body would go through from start to finish and leading up to and afterwards as well. It never really subsided because I knew what I was going into each time and I didn’t truly like it.
Reading Peter’s inspirinational blog reminds me of how on a couple of occasions when sitting in Centre Court at Wimbledon watching the Men’s semi-final, I would have massive tension in my body which would only start to disperse once the final shot was played. How crazy was it to pay big money to put myself into such a state of tension, in order to think I was a cut above others by procuring one of the much sought after ticket for this event.
Brilliant point Elizabeth, competitive sport is even stressful for it’s viewers, and as viewers we side with people or teams and celebrate their wins and mourn their losses but to what end? To pit one person against another and still miss the point of life – and that we are designed to work together.
It is a tension and somehow we think that tension is good. Perhaps it’s the feeling of relief we get afterwards that justifies why we like the tension but tension is tension.