Built Different: Basketball, Lip Balm, and Life

It was one of those days where it would’ve been criminal to stay inside — clear skies, the sun shining, and a light, cool breeze. It was the perfect day to catch some pickup basketball games, so I made my way to a gym on the Lower East Side. It’s a school gym, with wooden flooring and red and blue lines painted in different patterns to accommodate other sports besides basketball. As soon as I walked in, it felt humid, and it smelled… well, sweaty. You know the smell. It wasn’t air-conditioned, but I didn’t really care because I had been thinking about it all week.

I’ll admit, I’m usually a bit nervous hitting a new location, but I settle in quickly once I’m on the court. I was able to catch a few games, and we even went on a winning streak for a bit. By the end of the run, I was satisfied with how I played. On the way back home, it got me thinking that I don’t remember learning how to play basketball. I just kind of knew how. Now, I’m not an elite player or anything, but for as long as I can remember, it’s just been there. Kind of like walking. Obviously, I learned to walk at some point, which I’m sure was a big deal for my parents! There are countless patterns we pick up that we are consciously oblivious to.

Younger me dreamed of being drafted to play in the NBA. It seemed realistic at the time; I was tall for my age. I grew up in Houston during the championship years, so being Hakeem (Olajuwon) was the dream. I even remember an annual checkup where I asked the doctor how tall I was going to be when I got older. He predicted six feet and four inches. I was ecstatic — there’s a great chance of becoming a professional basketball player. I remember nagging my folks to install a basketball hoop on the driveway, and eventually, they did. I was all in on this dream. Well, until our family moved to Pakistan and life took a different turn.

Anyway, just like basketball, there are probably a lot of things we do without remembering how we learned them. I went down a rabbit hole during the subway ride back to my apartment. The way we behave, express emotions, and connect with people. For example, the way I pray. How my parents pray is similar but with subtle differences. When I think about it, to this day whenever I go to the Masjid or pray, I do it exactly how my dad does it even though my mom taught me how to pray. Here’s another slightly embarrassing one: for some reason, the way I apply lip balm looks oddly feminine. I don’t remember being taught how to, that’s just how I do it. Thanks, Ma! I blame you.

Lately, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I find myself in a season of reflection — questioning my patterns. I’m sure you’ve found yourself here at different times in life. It’s not that we don’t love ourselves or don’t accept ourselves. It feels more like injecting a bit more curiosity when asking what makes you, YOU? And honestly, I think everything is open to examination except for Basketball and Anime! Those are my non-negotiables. One thing I’ve come to believe through my experiences is that "happiness" doesn’t exist as something to be achieved. Instead, "happiness" is a state of being.

There are so many patterns buried deep in our unconscious that can lead to unhappiness or regret. That’s not even the most ridiculous aspect of these configurations. We don’t even remember how we learned most of these settings. I learned a neat fact about the brain the other day. Once it’s sufficiently picked up a pattern, it can basically run that pattern on autopilot to increase processing power for more complicated tasks. Now, I’m sure this is necessary, but I’m also thinking that this frickin’ optimization has struck again! What’s with all these maladaptive patterns? And why are they still running into my mid-thirties?! All in the name of efficiency.

Naturally (or not), my next thought was: surely the mind doesn’t just do this with external patterns like basketball, praying, or applying lip balm. Of course, it does the whole optimization thingamajig with my internal patterns like my feelings and what I’m drawn towards. Have you ever been in a situation where you’ve reacted and then immediately thought, "Why did I do that?" It’s likely because we feel a certain way, and our mind reverts to pattern recognition. Can we even recall how it started? Sometimes the answer is yes, but in many cases, it’s not really.

The real question, I guess, is: are we comfortable with our reaction? Does it align with our values? Does it bring you joy or peace? If not, maybe we should question it. That’s the least we can do because if regret and blame are our constant go-to tactics, then sure, we’ll live a life — but will we live the life we want? It’s not about shaming ourselves — it’s about understanding why our younger self picked it up, and whether it still benefits us today. I can attest — it’s not easy. I keep hitting snooze on my alarm! (I kid — that’s not a pattern… or is it?)

It doesn’t matter what stage of life we are in, it’s never too late to realize that our lives aren’t meant to be logical or precise. Those are important concepts if you’re doing scientific research, but the human experience is messy, nuanced, and riveting — all at once. We’re not here to judge ourselves but to know ourselves. We’re not here to fix ourselves but to make the unconscious conscious. Like in ball, the key isn’t just muscle memory — it’s knowing when to pass, when to shoot, and when to breathe. That means forgiveness and compassion for others, but also for us. Somewhere in all of this, I believe we will discover that state of joy for life.

So, tell me, are you ready to play ball?

Much love.

P.S. Have a great weekend!