we play frisbee

most sports come with two teams, two ends of a field, and a lot of space in the middle. and then we attempt to ferry the object, the frisbee, the ball, the flag, or--in the case of one legendary camping trip I keep hearing about from my brothers--a plastic bottle full of ashes, across this space to score. that's our job. the other team's job is to stop us. there is much switching of roles.

if the defender is breathing down your neck, no one will throw you the frisbee.

if the goalie fills up the whole goal net, how will you get the ball past him?

there have to be gaps. just enough of a gap between offense and defense for the object to get through. if there weren't, the game would reach some kind of standstill, it wouldn't be fun, everyone would leave and find something better to do.

if there weren't such gaps in my thought processes this afternoon, I would tie this idea to some other idea and it might turn into something awfully symbolic. I'm sure if I spent another hour thinking about it I'd come up with the perfect analogy. then again, we might end up with some horribly trite sort of image, like when John Bytheway compares the purpose of life to a football game or something.

life is not like a game of frisbee.

we play frisbee.

we live life.

{photo taken by the lovely Cassanndre Sager.}