On Teams, Playtime, and Remembering Who You Are#
I’m an older man now.
After my working years, I kept learning — not because I had to, but because curiosity never really retires. With time comes a strange kind of clarity, and sometimes that clarity feels like a responsibility to speak, even if only as an observation.
So I’ll say this plainly.
To anyone who thinks they know — you might have it backwards. Not wrong in intent, just misaligned in focus.
Ask yourself:
Is it God?
Earth?
Animals?
Humanity?
Or is it the team you happen to have aligned with?
You might say you don’t pick sides. Except in a few areas. Interesting. And I suppose those alignments promise something better — security, belonging, victory. That’s not nothing. But have you checked?
I don’t mean checked the headlines or the talking points. I mean checked yourself.
Have you ever noticed how anxious people get when asked to describe who they are? Many can describe their favorite teams — political, cultural, ideological — far better than they can describe themselves. That should give us pause.
Here’s a small exercise. Sit calmly for a moment and think about your earliest memories. Try to see yourself as you were growing up. When you do that, you might notice something quietly important.
That’s still you.
And the team isn’t there anywhere.
I know, I ramble. Old men do. But there’s a reason I’m circling this.
Those teams we align with — they’re games of sorts. They compete. They try to win. They try to beat the other side. And games have their place. Playtime matters. Rivalry can be fun. Competition can sharpen us.
But playtime is not life.
In real life, winning isn’t the point. Failing is. Failing teaches. Failing humbles. Failing keeps us human. The danger comes when we forget which arena we’re in and start treating life like a scoreboard.
So here’s my advice, offered gently.
Stop trying to win at life.
Keep failing.
Just don’t stop trying.
And remember who you were before the teams showed up.