If you find you have lots of "usta's" and very few "I do's" you might be heading the wrong way.īoth books point out how these forms of play, whatever play is to you, not only provide us with coping skills but also make us more resilient, more able to deal with whatever comes at us in life. Kevin Gilmartin, my favorite cop psychologist, in his must-read book "Emotional Survival," calls these "usta's!" Our forms of play such as "I usta hunt, I usta fish, I usta bowl, etc." often lead to "I usta be married" and other such sorrows. But often, involved in our profession, we don't take time out for enjoyable activities. It is anything that puts our brain in that growth state, anything that is done for its own sake voluntarily, something inherently attractive to you, an activity that gives you a sense of freedom from time and allows improvisation.Īll of us had tons of these opportunities when we were young. All of us need play, but just what is it? Is it only playing catch, shooting, or fishing that counts? Nope, says Brown. This holds true for your wife, husband, partner, boyfriend, girlfriend, or dog as well. Need more time with your kids? Play catch, take them shooting, try playing a Wii videogame with them (be prepared for a whipping). Little did we know that science would reaffirm both our providing the cadets some "playtime," and the reduction of the staff's own stress that came from time on the ball field. Intuitively we sensed the stress of academy life needed to be relieved. Cadets work hard but we always tried to make time for play, and the final softball game for each academy class could get pretty rough when the staff just had to defeat the cadets. What great memories I have from my days working at the academy, where I do believe we had a top staff and remarkable cadets, many of whom have remained friends to this day. Then we were off for pizza, and after that PT at 5:00 the next morning.
I loved everything but the sting when I caught it on the palm … but, then the look on the runner's face made up for that. Rod was born with a 30-06 for an arm and routinely gunned down poor runners trying to tag up and head home thinking they had it made. Rod was my commander in my last stint at the academy, and we played softball year-round in Tucson on a fairly good team.
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