Source: Wikimedia Commons I didn’t follow all of the Olympics in PyeongChang, South Korea, but saw enough on television and in still photos to be able to reflect on the experience. Here are six life lessons I took away from the Winter Games.
1. Coming in second or third can be as good as gold.
Most of the athletes were so thrilled to get a silver or a bronze medal that a casual viewer might think they’d won the gold. I loved seeing these “didn’t-get-the-gold” celebrations because it reminded me that we don’t have to be the best at something in order to enjoy it and feel satisfied with how we did.
This reflection took me back many years to a comment a friend made to me when I told her that I was considering quitting teaching because I wasn’t among the top tier of the faculty in the classroom. She said to me: “There can only be one Beatles. That doesn’t mean other people shouldn’t make music.” From that day on, I began to enjoy my time in the classroom—and became a better teacher because of it.
At these Olympics, the American Chris Mazdzer was entered in the Luge but wasn’t expected to get a medal. It was his third Olympic Games, and he’d finished 13th in both Vancouver in 2010 and in Sochi in 2014. In addition, this alpine season, he was sitting at 18th in the World Cup standings. When he won a silver medal this time around, he was so happy, I felt his joy in California, half way around the world.
And I loved seeing the American athletes holding hands in a row and then, in unison, jumping for joy after winning the bronze medal in the Ice Skating Team Competition.
2. Being fixed in our views can lead to missing out on a lot in life.
Snowboarder in the Halfpipe Source: John Lemieux/Wikimedia Commons I tend to be a traditionalist about the Olympic events, so I was a downright snob when they added snowboarding several Olympics ago. I thought I was fixed in my view of it as a second class sport compared to the other snow events, such as the Downhill and the Slalom.
However, this year I happened to read a story in the New York Times about the Halfpipe snowboard competitor 17 year-old Chloe Kim, whose family immigrated to the U.S. from South Korea many years ago. Her father devoted himself to her training, driving her over five hours a day on weekends to get to snow country from their Los Angeles area home. He also set up a trampoline in their backyard so she could practice jumping with a snowboard on her feet.
So when I saw that her Halfpipe event would be on TV, I turned it on, but only because of the article I’d read about her and her family. I loved the event so much that I watched the men’s Halfpipe too! Seeing the athletes jump so high (sometimes as tall as a four-story building), while simultaneously twisting, doing somersaults, and grabbing their boards, only to make smooth a landing on the steep slope was exciting to watch. And, to my surprise, the maneuvers were graceful too.
So I put away my snobbery and was reminded that being fixed in my views can lead to missing out on a lot of what life has to offer, whether I’m a participant or a spectator.
3. Paying close attention to the present moment can make almost any experience interesting.
I didn’t object to Luge being in the Olympics the way I had with snowboarding but, in the past, whenever Luge came on TV, I thought “how boring” and would do something else with my time. This Olympics, I turned the TV coverage on one day and there it was: Luge. A guy was lying on his back on a sled, speeding—feet first— down a narrow winding track with steep banks. I thought: “That looks so unpleasant. He can’t see where he’s going. He can’t control the sled. Why would anyone want do that or watch that?”
Then the commentators, using graphics to illustrate, explained the sport in detail, including how lugers (as they’re called) steer by making small, precise shifts in their weight, particularly by rolling their shoulders or applying pressure with their calf muscles. The fastest time wins, so the goal is to minimize whatever slows them down, such as air resistance. To this end, they point their toes and lift their heads only enough to be able to peer at the track ahead. They can hit speeds in excess of 85 mph. Suddenly, Luge wasn’t boring anymore.
Source: No Attribution Required/Pixabay This newfound appreciation for Luge, which came about because I paid close attention to it, applies to everyday life: if we truly focus our attention on something (a mindfulness practice), we can almost always find it interesting.
P.S. A few days after seeing this on TV, I learned there’s another Luge event in which two athletes are on the same sled, one on top of the other. Look at the photo above. If you don’t see two lugers, look again. On another day, I learned that if you flip over onto your stomach, grab a different sled (a scarily small one)…presto, you’re now competing in the Skeleton!
4. Patient endurance can make a dream come true.
In Buddhism, “patient endurance” is one of the ten qualities an awakened being has perfected. This quality is usually translated as “patience,” but I prefer “patient endurance” because it suggests that, in addition to being patient in the traditional sense (accepting difficulty without getting angry or discouraged), we also actively endure—that is, face disappointment without giving up.
Sport and Competition Essential Reads
When Your Worth Is Based on Your Medals 
In the Slow Zone: When Time Expands for Athletes 
Aliona Savchenko and Bruno Massot Source: Luu/Wikimedia Commons That brings me to the German pairs ice skater Aliona Savchenko. This was her fifth (yes, fifth) Olympics and her fourth partner. She’d won a bronze medal at the last two Olympics with her previous partner, Robin Szolkowy.
She was going to retire after the winter Olympics in 2014, but decided to go for the gold one more time. After the short program, she and her new partner, Bruno Massot, found themselves in fourth place. It looked as if they were out of medal contention. Then they skated a beautiful, error-free and expressive free skate. She put everything she had into it—technically and artistically—and they won the gold medal. Patient endurance.
As a side note, the scene at the end of the competition was incredibly moving. The three pairs skaters who’d won the medals were gathered in an off-ice area and, one by one, each of the six hugged the others, with all of them giving special attention to Aliona Savchenko who was overcome with tears.
5. There’s always something to complain about. Why bother?
I’ve got my list of complaints about the Games and NBC’s coverage, but why bother putting my time and energy into them? For one thing, complaints often turn out to be unfounded. Leading up to the Games, there was concern that the extreme cold and windy temperatures would wreak havoc with the alpine skiing events. Some commentators even predicted it would ruin the games. In the end, all it caused was the rescheduling of a few competitions, and some of the athletes who were entered in multiple events said they welcomed the rescheduling because it gave them extra time to rest between starts.
And, even if we’re certain that our complaint is merited, there’s often nothing we can do about it. I thought some of the commentators were terrific; others I could have done without. With the latter, I told myself not to waste my time complaining about them (after all, as I said above, there can only be one Beatles).
6. Not clinging to our preferences but, instead, wishing for everyone to do well is freeing.
There’s a well-known quotation from the 7th Century Chinese Chan (Zen) master, Hui Neng: “The Way is not difficult for those without preferences.” Now there’s a challenge! No preferences? I began my Olympic viewing with several preferences about who should win. But there’s stress in that wanting. I think of wanting as friction in the mind.
And so I tried to do without preferences as I watched the Games. I told myself to just enjoy whatever I was watching at the moment, and to wish each athlete well as he or she was competing. When I was able to watch from this new perspective, I could feel my body and my mind relax. No tension in the body. No friction in the mind.
Wishing others well comes from a Buddhist practice called metta, which encourages us to be kind and friendly to whomever we encounter in life. When I leave the house, sometimes I set the intention to send silent good wishes to anyone I encounter. It’s such a simple thing to do, but it feels so good. I may silently say to someone, “I hope you’re having a pleasant day” or “Be well today.”
Carrying this practice over to the Olympics, I learned to wish everyone a good outing in his or her competition. This made me feel connected to all the athletes, no matter where they were from. I felt joy for the medal winners as I watched them celebrate because I was never disappointed in the outcome.
When we open our hearts to everyone around us, we’re accessing deep within what kindness and friendliness feel like so that, with practice, we can learn to be kind and friendly to all beings, including ourselves.
***
I’m determined to take these six lessons I learned from the 2018 Winter Olympics and bring them into my everyday life. I hope you will too.
© 2018 Toni Bernhard. Thank you for reading my work. You might also find this helpful: “Constant Complaining: Does It Serve Us Well.”