I went to a kid’s birthday party. The dads played soccer with the kids.
I played like it mattered.
I didn’t think about it. I just played. Full sprint. Every ball, so long as it was a dad in front of me.
Afterwards I noticed: that was a kid’s party, and I’m going all in.
It made me think about where else this shows up.
At work, I don’t look at the time. I don’t stop to continue tomorrow. I see things through, to leave the work in a good place before I walk away.
On the tennis court, same thing. I give it everything. Win or lose, the score takes care of itself.
Intensity, I realized, is about surrender. Giving myself fully to the moment or task.
I’m glad I don’t have to manufacture this. It’s just how I’m wired. It means some things don’t get space while I’m in it, and I’ve made peace with that.
My kids see it. At that soccer game, they saw their dad play like it mattered even when it didn’t.
I’m already seeing hints in my oldest.
I hope they catch it.