Being at my best.

I wonder. If after accomplishing a remarkable feat. We take time off. And return to mediocrity. Telling ourselves. That we won’t be able to attain that level of joy again. Therefore. Just bask in the memory of it all. And settle for being ordinary. Rather than extraordinary. That’s the tale of the Chicago Cubs. My favorite baseball team. The defending world champions. Winner of the World Series. For the first time in 108 years. The Cubs aren’t playing like world champs anymore. They keep losing more games than they win. Their players aren’t in the top echelon. To put it bluntly, they stink.  Last season, they had seven players on the all-star team. This season, only one. Looks to me like the Cubs have taken the season off. As if they deserve. Merely going through the motions of playing baseball. Without heart. Without passion. Without a mission. Maybe we all do it. We find it impossible. To live at the peak forever. We have to come down. For rest. And rejuvenation. We can’t always be at our best. It would be too exhausting. Too challenging. I keep telling myself. That’s all right.  I deserve a break. Merely marking time for awhile. So that I can come back. Another day. To show that I’m still capable. Of being at my best. --Jim Broede