Being a keen tennis player in my younger days, I’m always excited when another Grand Slam comes around. This year, against all the odds, Stan the Man Wawrinka beat Novak “Nole” Djokovic to claim the men’s title. Djokovic had not been beaten on clay this season coming into the match, and he had a 19 to 3 win-loss record against Wawrinka. He had every right to feel confident to claim his first French Open title and a Career Grand Slam to boot.
Unfortunately, sport does not always go according to the script. At the ceremony it was Stan, not Nole, who was holding the winning trophy aloft. Far more interesting to me than the results of matches such as this one, is the way the results are achieved. Stan provided some clues as to how he prevailed in an article by Kate Battersby. Stan said “When I can play my aggressive game he’s [Djokovic] not feeling his best normally. So I will have to focus on myself. As far as I’m concerned, the fact that I did this before, I won a Grand Slam before, therefore it calms me down. Even though I’m nervous, I’m more tranquil.”
Without wanting to be guilty of wild extrapolation, the key to Stan’s success is possibly provided in the last sentence “Even though I’m nervous, I’m more tranquil.” Amazing. Nervous and tranquil at the same time. Someone who knows how to master being both nervous and tranquil simultaneously is capable of achieving a lot.
It may very well be the case in sport generally, that the greatest battle is not what occurs in the arena but, rather, what is going on inside the heads of the athletes.
“Nervous and tranquil” is a wonderful description of one particular experience of conflict but internal conflict in sport can be explained in other ways as well. Athletes who talk about feeling “pressure” before a sporting event may be sensing the ramifications of a conflicted mind. Even during a performance, moments of indecision, or the infamous “choking”, are likely to be indicators of a battle within.
The good news about conflict is that we have the resources we require to conquer it. We just need the right vantage point from which to consider the squabble and, without even trying, it can vanish. In Stan’s case, he provided some clues as to where his most useful perch was. He knew that if he played his aggressive game and focussed on himself he would have a good chance because he had done it before. It may have been for Stan, that when he was able to keep that place in his mind, the territory between nervousness and tranquility was transformed.
A very good friend of mine recently explained to me that training for a ½ iron man triathlon was both “fun” and “intense”. This remarkable young man found a place where he could notice both the fun, and the intensity, of his grueling schedules. Achieving this perspective enabled him to persist through pain and endure tortuous routines.
These examples from sport are instructive for conflict generally. The idea of a conflicted mind in which two incompatible states, goals, or experiences are pursued simultaneously, can be considered a generic model of psychological distress.
Whenever you’re annoyed or hassled or dismayed or peeved or uptight or irritated beyond belief, see if you can find the two elements that are generating the turmoil. One is often easy to find but there’s usually a second player lurking in the wings. Identifying both of them and finding a way to consider them together is often the key to resolving the dilemma.
A young woman explained to me a couple of weeks ago that she wanted to tell her friend how she felt about him because he was leaving and she wouldn’t see him again. But she also didn’t want to tell him because she feared he would reject her. By stepping up above both telling him and not telling him, it became clear to her that, ultimately, she didn’t want him to leave without him knowing how she felt. After she revealed her feelings to him, even though she didn’t get the response she was hoping for, she remained poised and upbeat for having done what she wanted to do.
Contentment is not that hard to create. Finding a space above the hum-drum, where the bigger picture becomes clearer to you, is the key to calming turbulent waters. Look for two signposts, rather than one, as to where that place might be. You might not know where it is at the start of the journey but you’ll know when you’ve arrived.
