A Junior Hockey Journey: Crossing the Northern Border

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June 28, 2015:

The Norfolk Vikings Coach and General manager emailed me the day before I was set to arrive in Simcoe: “12:00 Meet at the clock tower on Norfolk Street. We will be doing dryland.”

We were about to cross the Canadian border through Allentown, New York and were aware that our phones would soon operate on data charges alone. We took the QEW, Queen Elizabeth Way, for about thirty minutes before switching to Route 25, then 27 to 63 and finally Talbot through Cayuga into Norfolk County. The roads were small and stretched straight for miles on each end.

In every which direction along our way, the land grew high with corn stalks and farmhouses. By 9:00pm, we were fortunate enough to witness the sun dip behind those fields, and with Tom Higginson’s ‘American Nights’ softening my ears, my eyes watched salmon pinks and the yellow bellies of perches swarm the Canadian sky. At night, the sky was dark, save for a few stars. Those modest beacons gleamed in a blackness that, I swear, I had never seen so pure. It was rural and it was bliss.

Our car had found Simcoe without complication, one of the few small miracles witnessed that day. Both our GPS and phones had malfunctioned crossing the border and were premature with their Canadian maps. We settled into The Travelodge hotel pretty late that night. And, although I recall hearing some French still buzzing behind closed doors, I had no idea those muffled ‘Putains’ would be some of my closest teammates, just a few rooms away.

-Jeff Gu

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A Junior Hockey Journey: 9 Days till a year

Students and faculty alike have often asked me about my transition back into regular school life. They ask how it was in Canada, as if our northern neighbor had held some closeted, esoteric knowledge that I, alone had uncovered. Others, rather nonchalantly, asked for conversation and just to be polite. Either way, I had my memorized lines prepared, enough just to say something, and yet, really without having to really say anything.

“Canada was a wholly unimaginable experience. I met and lived with players from all different socio-economic backgrounds, cultural backgrounds, and living habits. At some point or another, I had spent time living with players from Quebec, Slovakia, Finland, Florida, California, Colorado, Nebraska, Illinois, and West Virginia. I had become brothers with players from France, Utah, Alberta, New York, and Texas.”

I would continue, “There was one player who, at home, drove his own Ferrari, and another who sold his car for that initial July plane ticket to Ontario,” always finish with the line, “It’s like having spent a lifetime on a plane with the shutter closed and having just finally opened it to catch a glimpse of the ‘real world,’ with all its brief triumphs and indiscriminatory injustices.”

And, of course, written down, it’s all quite polished now. Originally, orally, it was the equivalent of completing jumping jacks while trying to gargle expired chocolate milk, an absolute, and unequivocally chaotic and sputtering mess.

A brief note: although I have no idea why anyone would be so inclined to try, the above metaphor is strictly that, not a challenge.

A second note: if anyone does decide it a feat of strength and try to do jumping jacks while gargling spoiled milk, send the video my way. I’m always up for a laugh.

To get to the point of what I was saying, I haven’t really recounted any experiences from last year. Was it all worth it? Do Canadians actually say ‘eh?’ How did I end up asleep on a highway? Does Tim Horton’s have the best doughnuts? (Yes. And there’s no explanation- they just do). Why is making a left turn ‘making a Larry?’

Over a semester has past since I last visited Simcoe, Ontario, early last summer. 9 days from a year today, it will have been 12 months since I left the Norfolk Vikings, having suffered a concussion. It’s been enough time that I believe that I should finally begin candidly telling some stories and rebooting the purpose of this blog- to give my Junior ‘A’ experience as a high school student in a foreign country.

-Jeff Gu

Next [ https://hockey976.wordpress.com/2015/10/20/one-step-closer/ ]

Untitled: Over Fear

Life is exactly what we make it.

        At 2AM, with hard rain beating down the roof and jumping clashes of thunder, the room around me splintered. There would be no need tonight for Spotify’s John Lennon to save me from that often-suffocating nighttime silence. I was drowsy, but I couldn’t sleep, hungry, but I didn’t want to risk leaving my bed. So in a state of complete irrelevance to the storming world around me, I found myself listening to Brené Brown and her TEDx talk on the Power of Vulnerability.

        It was a conversation that delved into Brown’s research on the roles of fear, love, and vulnerability in everyday life. She begins with a story of her personal quest for understanding in her life and ends with a revelation on the overarching theme of humanity in all lives.

        As I initially listened, I agreed with Brown. She proclaimed that she hated vulnerability, “I was going to understand how vulnerability worked, and I was going to outsmart it.” I agreed with her there as well, for I too wanted to understand how I could bypass what I considered a shortcoming. I had never seen myself as a vulnerable person. I would always think that vulnerability was a weakness; it was the direct opposite of confidence, and internal fortitude, which I had always seen as the path to success. On that same timeline, I knew there was a great deal of things I was afraid of. I harbored questions and uncertainties that weighed me down- like, would I get into the right college or whether I was constantly sacrificing happiness for academic security.

        When Brown went through her ‘spiritual awakening’ as her therapist called it, or “complete breakdown” as Brown referred to it (she had trouble coming to terms with the idea that to settle with vulnerability was to stop controlling and predicting and instead simply enjoying), I followed with thoughts of my own insecurities. I realized how they held me back. In light of all her research, and thousands of stories and interviews and focus groups, she had found that through courage and by embracing vulnerability, these people discovered joy. They believed that the authenticity in admitting weaknesses and love was what made them beautiful. It was fundamental. “…They were willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were…” and for that, they lived happier lives.

        What she learned, and what I’ve accepted as a mistake, is that in order to avoid vulnerability, we tend to numb it. But when we decide to cancel that particular emotion, we also dismiss emotion in general. As Brown puts it, we “can’t selectively numb.” When I avoided the notion of vulnerability, I also avoided joy, love, and appreciation. Brown was right.

        At this point, I’ve essentially outlined Brown’s twenty-minute talk.

        As I applied her revelation to myself, there was an inevitable internal struggle. For weeks, I had trouble with the idea that helplessness in some situations was strength. For a long time, I had known that I tended to be an anxious person- at some times, a stressful person to be around. I’ve come off as arrogant in the attempt to look confident and pretentious in the attempt to cover fears. For me there has always been alarm in the prospect of not being enough. And whether that covered academics, or friendship, or even personal relationships, the fear of appearing inapt has always been a driving force in my life. The issue of course, is that whenever I found myself in ideal situations, I still felt consumed with fear of an inevitable possible catastrophe. In giving power to my fears, I ended up driving them into reality. I then began adapting so that I could put myself in situations without risk. No downfall, I would tell myself. But, at the same time, there was also no significant reward or joy. Again, I was holding myself back. I realized that this almost perpetual anxiousness stemmed from a hatred of appearing vulnerable. I had chosen fear over personal acceptance.

        The hardest part for any aspect of life for me, what it came down to, was realizing that I am worthy of where I am. I’m excited to be where I’m at in life and I’m happy with the person I’ve turned out to be. I’ve accepted that it’s normal to have shortcomings, and even extraordinary people do. In the past few weeks, I’ve embraced the love that is already present all around me and I’m grateful I have that love. I also realize, however, that there will always be fears and doubts in life. It is what we do during times of uncertainty that defines us. To tie it all up, I’ll use a quote by pastor and author, Charles R. Swindoll, “The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past…we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.”