Back when I was 34, my business partner, my brother and I would play basketball every week. We’d wake up extremely early on Saturday and go play at the rec center for 2 hours or so and recover for the rest of the weekend. One day, my brother decided to record the game. It was intense, my business partner won the first game, my brother won the second game, and I won the rest of the games that day, which it may have been 3 or 4 in my favor. All packed with what felt like highlight reel moments. At some point I genuinely forgot that he was recording the games. Later that evening, my brother sent out a 3-minute clip of his highlights to us as well as my dad and people that know us. This was nothing short of hilarious. The next day, he shared the entire video with my partner and I, and it was rather shocking. For all the sweating, huffing, and puffing we were doing, we were barely moving the whole time.
This Week’s Question
Needless to say, that video was a hell of a wakeup call for all of us. I’m not even sure if we played basketball the following week. Recalling that video led me to this question of reflection. What self-perceived virtue do I believe I have, that is inaccurate or objectively false?
Playing those games, it felt like we were moving fast. If I were to retell the tale of that day, absent the video, we would sound like NBA hopefuls. Ask me about the stats or shooting percentage, I’d guess I was somewhere close to 50%, killing the game. In reality, it may have been 35%, barely bruising the game. We’re usually the heroes of our own narrative, but what if we were telling our story from someone else’s perspective? Would our amazing moments still be amazing? Would that person be the hero of the story? I wonder.