This was inspired by me reading various substack articles and realizing that human experience is so unoriginal it’s actually hilarious. In case the following is somehow relatable then that just proves my point.

I have been told, more than once, that my thinking is very black and white. It doesn’t apply to all areas of my life but when it comes to doing sports I’m quilty as charged. And it does in fact feel like a prison sentence. Only difference is that I’m holding the keys and nobody is stopping me from leaving.

The issue with black and white thinking is that you only acknowledge both ends of the spectrum: the short-lived high when things go your way and the inevitable low when for the lack of better words shit hits the fan. The good and the bad. The positives are often forgotten or disregarded as quickly as they come. “That is what I expected from myself, a box has been ticked, onto the next.” In most cases negatives are the ones that linger like a bad dream you cannot shake after waking up. “How can I not do such a simple task/I can never hit a good down the line shot/why do I keep swinging on my volleys for the 500th time. Am I stupid?”. Misery loves company (and repetition): soon enough you start noticing even the mistakes that actually hold no weight and this pattern of thinking becomes as normal brushing one’s teeth in the morning.

I once heard a saying that hating someone is like drinking the poison yourself and hoping that the other person dies. Having negative thoughts about your abilities and reinforcing them day in and day out feels exactly like a form of self-hatred that ends up only being damaging to yourself and does nothing to reduce the questionable thoughts in your brain. I have been reminded recently that there is, in fact, a grey area as well: the bad is hardly ever inherently bad. Sport is not perfection or nothing. Sometimes it’s just mediocre and that’s also fine. Being perfect is only a concept, not a tangible thing that everyone universally agrees to be exactly the same. What’s 10 out 10 in your eyes can be a measly 6.5/10 in someone else’s. A mistake on a groundstroke or a serve doesn’t automatically mean that every single thing you did leading up to it was terrible and as a result you should never be allowed to touch a racket.

Being able to bring myself to understand that between all the successes and failures are also just bunch of moments that are just plain average is a tedious task. As someone who has tried to rewire their brain for the better part of the last 5 years, I can say that I have inevitably revisited my old habits more often than I would like to admit. Yet, every day that I’m able to stand on court and not think that every missed ball is somehow defining me as a person and a player, I’m one small step closer to the real end goal which is letting myself enjoy the process. Because if I cannot enjoy showing up every day and putting in the work then where’s the fun in all that?

~ for all my people back home: “Jätke võtmed väljapoole, et saaks tulla külla keegi keda ootate.” – S.