The Zen of Badminton
I played badminton as a child. Always just for fun and certainly never followed any of the rules. I remember hitting the “birdie” as hard as I could and watching it just float – a true contradiction. I saw the ridiculousness of the physics of the whole sport, and could not help but be mesmerized by it. So naturally when a recent opportunity arose to take a class through my local Parks and Recreation program, I quickly signed up
I was excited to get started and bought a racket and some birdies and I practiced along with YouTube videos. From what I remembered about badminton, the serving technique seemed to be the trickiest part of the game and would require that I focus on my timing. I practiced for several hours and felt fairly confident that I had the technique down.
At the first day of class the instructor began with introductions and with various stretching exercises to warm us up. All the while, I was thinking about playing and hitting the birdie. When I say hit the birdie my intention was to hit it hard, really hard. You see I played softball for many years, including through high school and some college. I was used to swinging with every ounce of strength to hit a ball being hurled at me at 50-60 mph. I had always been a good batter and I felt that those softball skills would certainly transfer well to badminton.
Finally, towards the end of the class the instructor allowed us to practice serving. He demonstrated a technique that I had never seen before. His technique consisted of holding the birdie away from the body at waist height, then dropping the birdie until it is about 6 inches off the ground, and then hitting it with the racket using an upward swing. It was beautiful to watch-even more beautiful to be able to perform. I immediately felt self-doubt starting to creep up.
As I tried to imitate this serving technique, my timing was completely off. I was swinging way to fast and missing the birdie repeatedly. I would make occasional contact, but it was not often and when I did the birdie would shoot off in awkward and unpredictable directions. To add to my embarrassment, I had to chase down the birdies as they landed on neighboring courts and disturbed my classmates practice.
The instructor saw me struggling and spent time with me, coaching me to slow down and wait a second or two before swinging. I saw some improvement when he was helping me, but it was erratic at best. The last thing he told me was to be more patient. I felt discouraged by my performance and disappointed in myself.
I did not have much time to practice during the week, so at the following class I was no better and in fact I felt that I had gotten worse. I was swinging faster and missing again and again. Each swing seemed to become more serious and desperate. I was feeling frustrated at myself for not grasping something that seemed so simple and self-conscious that others could see my failure. It didn’t help that many in the class seemed to have mastered the serving technique and were able to hit the birdie so easily. Clearly, my ego and my self-image as an athlete were taking a beating.
The instructor came over and stopped me. He gently spoke, “Sylvia, calm down and relax.” I took a deep mindful breath, thinking – I can be Zen about this. I swung a few more times, still missing and not feeling Zen at all. The instructor then said, “Slow down…What’s the worst that can happen if you miss? No one is going to die. Just Relax.”
At that moment, I realized how far away I had traveled from those childhood memories of badminton. Those joyful memories of playing for pure fun, not being attached to the outcome and having no need to be perfect all flooded back to me.
The instructor’s words had released me from the need to be perfect and allowed me to laugh at myself and admit that it really didn’t matter at all. It was like magic. He had reminded me that this was the ideal time to put into use what my meditation practice had taught me – to be in the moment and embrace the experience. I started to make contact with the birdie and it felt amazing! I felt the tension in my body disappear and began to feel a relaxed flow develop instead.
As I continued to make contact, I felt my confidence growing along with my awareness that I was completely in the moment in every swing. I felt myself smiling and not noticing anybody else in the class. It was just me, the floating birdie and my racket – a perfect Zen moment.
When you find yourself striving or clinging to perfectionism in a situation, remember that you have a wealth of calm within you. Take a step back and breathe.
I would love to connect with you! Reach out to me at sylvia@fluidmindcoaching.com