Benched

I don’t think I’m mistaken in saying that the symbol of a bench implies rest. The sight of a bench whilst on a hike provides a space for recovery and nourishment. The symbol of a picnic table, which is not too dissimilar from a bench, implies community, rest, and break time. So why doesn’t getting “benched” feel that way? Well obviously because you don’t get to play nor do you get to perform under the bright lights. But what if we could reframe getting benched into a time to recover, a time to reset and reevaluate our goals, performance, etc… so often the frustration of getting pulled from a game, or not starting at all, clouds our ability to learn or to have any fun at all. What if we used our time on the bench to enjoy the company of those also on the bench. Imagine if every time I got pulled or benched I used that time to converse with those I don’t usually converse with, or simply allowed myself to use that time to recover before starting the second half of the hike. Unless you’re in middle school, the bench, 9 times out of 10, isn’t even a bench. It’s comfy logo’d chairs with unlimited supply of good company, snacks, and biosteel, and yet it still feels like a prison. But instead of being locked in, like a traditional prison, you’re locked out. Locked out of the game, cut off from the court, and stuck out of sight from the cameras. Is it possible to use that time on the end of the bench as if I were sitting outside at recess with my four best buds sharing ideas and having laughs as you rest and eat between social studies and math?

Enjoy the rest, 

J