A New Dream

(written Fall 2017)

I was never one of those kids who knew exactly what they wanted to be when they grew up. I didn’t have clear strengths and weaknesses in high school or know what I would study going into college. But there are two things that I’ve always known in my life. The first was that I was going to play volleyball. The second was that I was going to do something other than play volleyball.

           

The volleyball part came first, naturally, because there’s a time limit on an athletic career. And because that dream was clear. The first time I ever saw the National Team play was in 2000 at the Sydney Olympics. We watched every match that was televised. I remember the exact moment that something inside me clicked and I thought, “Ok, I want to do THAT.” I wanted to wear red, white and blue, represent my country and, more than anything else, I wanted to play volleyball at the highest level of the game. Eleven years later, after achieving other dreams—of winning state championships, playing in college, going to Stanford— I walked into the National Team gym. And for five years I got to live my dreams.

           

Then I decided to walk away. I could make a living playing volleyball right now. I could still be training in the USA gym. But I know-- I’ve always known-- that I have other things to do. Plus my biggest dream wasn’t making that team or winning medals or going to the Olympics; it was finding out how good I could be. Could I step on the court with the best in the world and play this game at the absolute highest level? And I found out I could. So I was ready for a new dream.

           

My new dream wasn’t fully formed yet though. When I left the National Team I went back to Stanford for a season to coach because my former head coach asked me to and because I needed time to figure out where the new dream begins. Most people who know me would have assumed that coaching was my next career. It would certainly be the path of least resistance. Instead, I coached for one season and won a National Championship, then promptly retired from college coaching. I’m not interested in the path of least resistance.

           

The new dream still hasn’t solidified completely. I don’t know what it looks like—a desk in an office, a stage and a microphone, a seat on an airplane, a blank page and a pen. I often wish the pieces would all just drift together so I could see it. Because once I see it I know that I can get there. I just don’t know where "there" is yet. I do know a few things though.

           

I know that I’ve walked away with skills that will help me in whatever path I choose. I understand how to build an effective team and set a vision. I know how to learn and get better. I know what it takes to work to be the best in the world at something.

           

I know that I want to do good in the world. In big ways and small. I want to not just correct problems but affect the systems that cause them. I want to leave everything that I touch better off than I found it. I want to inspire people. And, yeah, at some point I want to change the world. Sometimes I think maybe that’s naïve but then I realize that people do change the world all the time. Why not me?

           

I want to work with smart people who are passionate about what they’re doing. Those are the people I’ve been surrounded by for most of my life on a volleyball court and those are the people I want to be surrounded by off of it.

           

I want to be challenged. Perhaps unreasonably so. I think the things I’ve accomplished so far in my life indicate that I’m unnaturally capable of doing difficult things. I was told I’d never walk again and I became a professional athlete. I wasn’t big enough or strong enough or dynamic enough to make it to the National Team and I stayed for five years. I went to Stanford and graduated with a bachelor’s and a master’s in four years while becoming an All-American. I want to be challenged more than that.

           

Those are the colors of my new dream; the picture as a whole is just a bit abstract. It’s going to take some more time, and patience, before it gets clearer. But I think the things I do know about my new dream are more important than the ones I don’t. And most importantly, I know who I am. Volleyball was one way to express that—probably the best way so far that I’ve found—but there are others. I don’t know exactly where or when I’ll find them, but I’m excited to be looking.