Finding My Center Through Derby

I know it's generic to say that life is amazing, but it really is.
Sometimes I think about the incredible journey that I've had over the past few years and I can't believe it all really happened. I lost a super close relative, sacrificed a stable situation in my home town near all my family and moved across the ocean, moved five more times, went through a slew of jobs and slumlords, went on/off welfare, lived on different islands, got in a motorcycle accident, broke bones/tore ligaments, lost touch with lifelong friends, surrendered my dog, landed my dream job. So much has changed, yet one thing has remained a steady constant:

Derby.

No, I'm not saying that derby itself has stayed exactly the same; rule sets are adjusted annually and the newest strategies have fans and players alike in an uproar... but the spirit of the sport is solid. So many sacrifices by thousands of girls throughout the world have gone into creating this unique and stable identity, a beacon of empowerment, inspiration, reward, triumph, and most importantly, support through defeat.

I've skated for three leagues. I left the most established of the three to fall backwards into starter leagues that had shaky foundations and growing pains. I reluctantly took on leadership roles in attempts to help build an environment where the league could grow. But despite best efforts, plans fail... intentions are misinterpreted... friendships, destroyed. My current league has had so many internal conflicts that I sometimes feel like a child in a broken home. It's heartbreaking. It is my abusive relationship that I just can't quit. Something deeper, richer, and more important than petty arguments compels me to try harder and invest more. Derby has become a part of me, and when I step away to take a break and breathe, I feel like something has been ripped from my chest. Derby is in my center.

Derby is the extended family of sisters that I quarrel with, and yet I have to learn to trust them in the heat of battle when our opponents are out for blood. Alpha bitches that hate being followers instead of leaders, all with the common goal of making our sport the best it can be, yet mostly too pigheaded and stubborn to accept that sometimes our own take on things isn't the right perception. Mothers, career girls, homebodies, world explorers. We all love the sport. And like moths to the flame, we intentionally get too involved and get burned. Again, and again. We make mistakes. We fall from grace.


I'm on a crazy path of spiritual awakening at present, and derby is at the center. If I step away from practices for too long (as of late), I feel incredibly alone in a very big world, and quite unsettled. 80% of the contacts in my phone and on my facebook are derby people with derby names. I can't imagine my life without all that it encompasses. Looking at my smaller group of friends unassociated with the sport, I sometimes feel bad for them and hope they have a community with as much purpose as mine. It's all ego, I'm sure, but I feel so lucky to have this extended family that in a cultish way, I want them all to join me. I've been playing since 2007 and yes... I've been recruiting since 2007. I want to teach everyone all that I know about the sport. I want them to love it as much as I do. Of course I know that everyone can't possibly, but like a Jehovah's Witness, I pack recruitment flyers and business cards in my purse and freely distribute on the bus, the sidewalk, Subway, the grocery store, the mall, the doctor's office. You just never know who you'll save.

Every derby girl has a before and after; before derby, I longed for a nickname and felt like a misfit. After derby, it feels bizarre to have someone call me by my legal name, and I am so strong inside, so confident. What other place is there than this rich one, oozing with opportunity/inspiration/hope/identity/courage/strength/wholeness? The church. But I don't go to a temple to worship; I'm a Buddhist that doesn't meditate regularly and never chants. I'm living as zenlike and present as possible for what I'm comfortable with, and yet derby.... a violent, strategically competitive sport... makes me feel closer to enlightenment than any amount of time in a temple. I feel high on life after a hard bout. I am emotionally and physically drained, like an evangelical born-again abolished of sins by a slap to the forehead. I am so at peace, and so calm. It is the ultimate release.

Derby takes me to my higher place, so despite any amount of drama within a league, my spiritual growth from derby is sound.


Derby is my rock.