Over the next four weeks, one of rugby’s greatest rivalries takes center stage again.
South Africa versus New Zealand. The Springboks versus the All Blacks.
For rugby supporters, those words are enough to stir something.
Two proud rugby nations. Decades of history. Fierce competition. Enormous respect. And whenever they meet, the feeling that this one somehow matters just a little more.
But for me, this rivalry carries a different meaning. Whenever the Springboks play the All Blacks, I think about my mom. When she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, I had the privilege of spending time with her. There are many memories from that period that I hold close, but strangely, one of my favorites is incredibly simple. We watched New Zealand play South Africa together.
No grand occasion. No bucket-list experience. Just a mother and her son watching rugby. Yet today, that ordinary moment has become extraordinary. So whenever the Springboks play the All Blacks, I find myself watching with her.
She’s not sitting next to me anymore, but somehow she is still part of the occasion.
I think that’s one of the interesting things about losing someone we love. Their physical presence may be gone, but they continue to show up in unexpected places. A song. A smell. A photograph. A family expression. Or, in my case, a rugby match between two old rivals.
Perhaps that’s why these little traditions matter so much. They keep memories alive. They give us permission to stop for a moment and remember not only the person we lost, but the life we shared with them.
And lately, that great rugby rivalry has had me thinking about another rivalry. One that happens far more frequently. One that we don’t watch on television because it happens quietly inside each of us: Should I… or shouldn’t I?
Should I make the call? Should I have the conversation? Should I apply for the position? Should I start the business? Should I tell someone how I feel? Should I take the trip? Should I take the chance?
It’s amazing how quickly our minds can build a case for why we shouldn’t.
What if I fail? What if they say no? What if I’m not ready? What if it doesn’t work? What will people think?
Before long, we’ve assembled a pretty convincing team of reasons to do absolutely nothing. And doing nothing often feels safer. But what if we changed the question?
What if, instead of constantly looking for reasons NOT to do something, we intentionally started looking FOR REASONS to do it?
What might I learn? Who might I meet? What opportunity could this create? What if I’m more capable than I think? What happens if it actually works?
And perhaps the most important question: What might I regret if I don’t?
That doesn’t mean we should make reckless decisions or ignore legitimate risks. Good judgment matters. There is a difference, however, between evaluating risk and allowing fear to make the decision for us. Sometimes courage isn’t knowing something will work, It’s deciding that the possibility is worth exploring.
My mom had an expression that I’ve carried with me: “Send me flowers while I’m alive. I can’t appreciate them when I’m dead.”
There is a lot of wisdom in those words, and perhaps they apply to far more than flowers.
We wait.
We wait for the birthday to tell someone what they mean to us. We wait for the special occasion to spend time together. We wait for the “right time” to pursue an opportunity. We wait until we feel completely ready. We wait until someone is sick to make the phone call. And sometimes, sadly, we wait until the funeral to say all the wonderful things we should have said while the person was still there to hear them.
The rivalry within becomes: Should I, or shouldn’t I?
Maybe sometimes we need to stop building the case for why we shouldn’t and start looking for reasons why we should.
Make the call. Have the conversation. Take the trip. Apply for the opportunity. Tell someone what they mean to you. Have the coffee. Watch the rugby game. Give someone their flowers. Because we don’t always recognize the memories we’re creating while we’re creating them.
That afternoon watching rugby with my mom probably didn’t feel particularly significant at the time. Today, it means everything.
So over these next few weeks, when South Africa and New Zealand take the field, I’ll be watching, amd I’ll leave her photograph beside me.
The Springboks and All Blacks will battle out their rivalry on the rugby field. I’ll be reminded of another one. The rivalry between “I should” and “I shouldn’t.”
Between taking the chance and playing it safe. Between saying what needs to be said today and assuming there will always be a tomorrow.
And when the only opponent standing between us and something meaningful is fear, uncertainty or discomfort, perhaps we should spend a little less time looking for reasons not to and a little more time looking for reasons to.
Life has taught me that we may regret some of the things we try. But we can also carry the weight of the things we never tried at all.
My mom’s advice was much simpler. Give them their flowers now. While they can still appreciate them and while you can still enjoy the moment together.