The Scoreboard
There’s a scene in every sports bar: someone glancing up at the scoreboard, checking how their team is doing. Up by three. Down by seven. Tied at halftime. The numbers tell a story—who’s winning, who’s losing, who should feel good or not.
Regardless of sport, we all carry invisible scoreboards through life. Instead of points, we’re tracking something far more intangible: how we stack up, either compared to others, or to our own ideal.
That couple at dinner seems so connected—unlike our relationship. The college roommate is so successful—where did I go wrong? My life isn’t where it should be at this point. We look at others, or an internal, abstract expectation and sum the hidden tally. Of course, it is negative.
Our scoreboard not only tells us we’re losing, but it compels us to keep looking. Keep calculating our position relative to some theoretical concept of success. Which inevitably and invariably leads to an experience of lost joy.
But there is another way. And it’s not by throwing away the scoreboard. Rather, it’s by letting go of the compelling urge to look at it. Which, somewhat ironically, we do by catching the impulsion. This is the gateway to peace. As we read in A Course in Miracles, “Who is unaware of [peace] must look upon illusions.”
Join me in Thursday’s class where we’ll explore what happens when we stop checking the scoreboard and discover what was always beneath, blissful serenity. I look forward to seeing you then.