Road Conversations: Hockey, Heart, and Making Authentic Choices

Before my son got his driver's license, we spent at least a couple of hours every week driving to and from hockey practices. If there were games and tournaments, we’d enjoy many more hours in the car. 

I treasure these days. There's nothing like the open road to get a quiet kid talking. The bonding that happens over three-lane highways is the best. I love the conversations I get to have with my daughter, too. She asks the big questions, “Why do bad things happen? Is that God?” I have much more to say about this, which we’ll cover another day.

We've covered every topic imaginable, from WWII tanks (he has a huge interest, and I have very little knowledge) to hockey (naturally) and everything in between. 

One ride home we got to talking about how to use your body to make decisions. 

J is one of those kids who sits with the answer when you ask him a question. He might need to sit with it in his room alone for a week before giving an answer. It’s been a lesson in patience for me as a mom, for sure.

I know not to pressure him, but I had the sense that what he was doing was thinking about his response and not feeling his response. 

A lot of the societal messaging for boys is that feelings don't matter. They do, and my husband and I model this. But as a smart kid, he tends to think about things and consider them from a logical perspective. 

Which is aligned with his masculine energy, but he didn't consider the other tool he has — his body.

I told him that the body cannot lie and can help you make decisions when you don't know whether to turn left or right.

One evening, I told him to close his eyes (he was in the passenger seat) and ask himself some questions. I instructed him to notice a pull upward or forward or downward or back. Everybody is different.

We started off with easy yes or no questions. 

I asked them aloud and had him stay quiet as he felt what came up. 

• I'm a boy

• My name is Jacob

• I play hockey

Then I got to the ones that would be obvious no's:

• I play soccer

• I like vaping

• I have six dogs

When he opened his eyes, he looked at me with the childlike wonder I had seen in him when he was 5 — he was 15 at the time — and shocked. "Wow!"

I honestly thought he was bullshitting me. Doing one of Mom's weird woo things. 

But he marveled at how easy it was and how strong his answers were 

From time to time, when he needs to choose something, I remind him, "Ask your body."

This January, he had a decision to make. It wasn't an easy decision. There was a hockey tournament his team was to attend up north. 

Two of his teammates were hurt and not going. Another was staying home simply because he wanted to. 

J is a goalie, and when the team in front of you is missing players, it makes for a challenging game. He's there for a challenge — having saved 707 shots as a freshman on his high school team one season (not an exaggeration) and on teams that lost every game, that would never steer him away. 

Instead, he was concerned about getting hurt — at a tournament that didn't count for anything, playing teams that he knew would be tough, knowing he was preparing for playoffs for another team, and spring tryouts for higher level teams.

He wasn't excited about going. 

On the ride to the airport at 5 a.m., he mentioned that in addition to the ones that were hurt, a few kids were sick (flu-like stuff) but still going. Sure, J knows to take his vitamins, eat lots of fruit, and focus on his health, but we were still deciding at that point if it was a good idea to go. 

As I merged onto the interstate, my husband and I told him, “It's your decision. Whatever you decide, we fully support you.” 

I told him I didn't even care if we made it all the way to the airport, and we decided not to go. If I have to turn around when I get there, no biggie. Just make the right decision for YOU.

He was quiet for a long time. I let it be. Just popped in once during the ride to see if he wanted to talk anything out or ask questions. 

I pulled up to the airport departure drop-off and asked him, "So, what do you want to do?"

He said he still didn't know. 

Not remembering our car conversation from about a year earlier, I suggested he ask his body. 

He said he did. He said he kept going back and forth because his body said yes to staying and yes to going. 

We sat there for another minute. Thankfully, airport traffic control wasn't trying to rush us out. And then I heard him speak from the back seat, "I'll go."

Alright. We have an answer.

I helped gather the boys' bags and asked how he arrived at that decision. He said his body was fine either way, and staying home would be the easy thing to do (even though his team wouldn't be happy — glad he's not a people-pleaser), and that doing the challenging thing is usually the better. Well, it certainly was a challenging weekend —  they'd lose every game and he didn’t have the best games. But it was a learning experience, and there were no regrets.