IN BETWEEN

"You know what the happiest animal in the world is? It's a goldfish. It's got a 10 second memory. Be a goldfish." --Ted Lasso.

Hopefully you're familiar with Ted Lasso and his fish out of water story. Ted is a coach of an English football (soccer) team. He knows very little about the game but has an uncanny insight into people and a morsel of folksy wisdom for every occasion.

One of his best players has had a bad game and he's let it get to him. Ted gives him the goldfish fact in order to help him see that it's possible to move on. Stuck? Be a goldfish.

In another episode of Ted Lasso, they diagnose one of their players as having The Yips. I suspected that The Yips is a real thing and apparently it is. I should consult with my daughter-in-law, Dr. Brooke Fuller, a "mental performance consultant" on the matter. But that doesn't seem fair. She'a pro. I shouldn't be asking for free advice.

According to Psychology Today magazine: "The yips refer to psycho-neuromuscular impediment interfering with the execution of fine motor skills during sport.

"One of the saddest and strangest phenomena in professional sports is when an athlete starts experiencing the yips. The ability of our best athletes to perform under high levels of stress is a major determinant in attaining the highest level of sport and competition.

"One famous example of the yips involved Steve Sax who went from being named National League Player of the Year in the 1982 season to not being able to throw the ball to first base on routine plays during the next season. Fortunately, he overcame this affliction, but not all pro athletes are so fortunate."

I've actually witnessed Brooke working through an exercise with a young athlete--her niece, Nora, the gynmast. It was in the moments leading up to Nora's first big meet. She was riding to the meet with me and her Mimi (aka: My Amazing Missus). She was getting pretty anxious. She recalled a practice session when she had an incident on the bars. "Be a goldfish", I counseled. That didn't help. Let's call Aunt Brooke.

I won't go into the details of the conversation they had but it worked. Nora went on to win best overall in that meet and every other meet she entered during the season.

"Getting in one's own head" is a trip I've taken many times. You would think I knew it well, but it's sometimes dark there and fluid; so I don't know what I might find around the next corner or under the next rock--the overthinking and obsessive analyzing of situations, which leads to more overthinking and frustration. The advice for getting out of one's own head: focus on the present moment and engage in activities that ground you, such as mindfulness or talking to others. So this essay is me being mindful and communicating it by casting these words out into the ether.

I'm reading a book by David Brooks called, "How To Know A Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen." [note: If next time we meet I seem a little strange, I'm just trying to see you deeply.] Brooks suggests some questions we might discuss with one another and ourselves. Maybe, I thought, that by working through these questions, I might be more goldfish-like and therefore able to courageously navigate these senior years. Who knows, there may be others out there in their own head, or their wilderness, their in-between. In case you would like to try, here are the questions:


What crossroads are you at?

What would you do if you weren't afraid?

If you died tonight, what would you regret not doing?

If we meet a year from now, what will we be celebrating?

If the next five years is a chapter in your life, what is that chapter about?

Can you be yourself where you are and still fit in?


If someone asked me these questions I would reply, "Those are great questions. I'll get back to you with my answers." I would never get back because these questions are too big. I've been pondering them for weeks and still haven't settled on a definitive answer for a single one of them. Heck, I struggle when someone asks me: "Sup?" or "How's it going?" or "How are you?" My honest answer to each of these three is: I'm just not sure. Not to worry though: I like a bit of mystery and suspense.

Being in-between doesn't have to be purgatory--the kind of place where, in the dark, you might bump into depression, despondencey, or despair. It might (metaphorically) be that your number will be the next one called to order at an amazing ice cream shop or bakery. You know, where you're surveying the goodies, pointing at this one and that one, finalizing your choices and deciding if you'll have a coffee to go along with your treat once your number is called.

Let's go back to David Brooks' questions with a few ideas for answers:

1. What crossroads are you at? Banana split or affogato.

2. What would you do if you weren't afraid? Buy the new Airstream.

3. If you died tonight, what would you regret not doing? At that moment I would be beholding stuff that didn't include regrets.

4. If we meet a year from now, what will we be celebrating? That's a conundrum. A year is a long ways off and it will be here before we know it. Hopefully it will involve sitting beside a shiny Airstream, enjoying another banana split. My inability to honestly answer #6 is a hurdle to full disclosure of my answer to this question.

5. If the next five years is a chapter in your life, what is that chapter about? Peace, love and joy.

6. Can you be yourself where you are and still fit in? Where it really matters: yes! These days though, I tend to make my world too small.

If you're a goldfish, a small small world is okay. The comic Dusty Slay does a bit about the short memory of the goldfish. He tells of a goldfish circling his little aquarium, "Hey, look! There's a scuba diver in here." "Hey look, a treasure chest!" "Hey, look! There's a scuba diver in here." "Hey look, a treasure chest!" "Hey, look! There's a scuba diver in here." "Hey look, a treasure chest!"

Thankfully, for all of us, there is the promise of more. It's okay to occasionally speak the language of in-between where we start our thoughts and sentences with: "For now..."

Let's meet again on July 12, 2026 and celebrate the past and the wonder about future.