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The Seasons Where Championships Are Won
Because the hardest practices happen at home.
Barkim Boone
September 05, 2025
Standing in the Light of Ordinary Rituals
Around the world, there are moments so small they nearly slip by, yet so rich you feel them later. Like echoes. A man halfway asleep who leans over his baby’s crib just to watch them breathe.
A father who built a makeshift soccer goal with PVC pipe and netting. so his son could play every Saturday morning.
At a Quinceañera, a father takes his daughter’s hand for the waltz. For a few minutes on that dance floor, it’s pride and tenderness wrapped together. His steady steps, her growing confidence.
I think of the dad who spent a weekend walking his daughter through a college campus, laughed through meals, and then turned that fleeting joy into a tradition. An annual “just us” father-daughter weekend; a ritual born of love and intention.
These aren’t epic sagas. They’re gentle scenes of presence. And yet, they anchor hope.
Turning Painful Seasons into Presence and Dreaming Boldly for Your Children
“Fatherhood refined me. It stripped me of selfishness and dressed me in patience.”
That’s how one father described the weight and wonder of it all. He called it a sacred inheritance, a daily calling.
And yet, life doesn’t hand us smooth roads. Painful seasons. Divorce, job loss, health scares, or just the relentless grind of everyday chaos can crush us… Or refine us, if we let them.
These experiences though painful can burn away distraction and leave behind clarity. What matters most is to show up.
When you’ve experienced absence physically or emotionally you come to understand the gift of simply being there.
This is the strange alchemy of pain; it doesn’t just wound, it wakes us up. It strips us to the essential. Sharpens us into commanders who lead with presence. But presence isn’t the whole story. Our children need more than Dads who survive storms. They need men who dare to dream in the middle of them.
Our Sons need visionaries who show them that strength guides, encourages, and loves. And our daughters? They need the same. They need fathers who speak dreams over them that stretch beyond “be successful” or “stay safe.” They need to hear, “Shine as you are. Be radiant in who you’re becoming.”
Dreaming with your kids isn’t about building a flawless blueprint for their lives. It’s about showing them what hope looks like in a world that tries to smother it. It’s about letting them know, through your presence and your words, that their story is still unfolding and that you believe in it.
Here’s how to make those lessons real in practice:
Listen even when your own heart is heavy. Your tenderness teaches your child the value of being heard.
Speak your dreams out loud. “I hope you grow curious. I dream you’ll stand for justice. I hope you’ll love boldly.”
Invite their dreams forward. Ask, “What excites you these days? What do you wish you could try?”
Write them down together. A dream journal, a list of adventures proof that their imagination matters.
Build something tangible. Vision boards, doodles, or “someday” lists shared imagination builds shared hope.
Model dreaming in your own life. Let them watch you chase a goal. When you reach, they learn it’s safe to reach too.
Create rituals of encouragement. A bedtime mantra, a note in the backpack, a monthly “just us” outing. Small rhythms, big anchors.
The Power of Fatherhood Across the Ages
Fatherhood has a rhythm to it, and it changes as our kids grow. The seasons don’t look the same. One day you’re dodging Nerf darts in the living room, the next you’re waiting outside a dorm as your son or daughter drags boxes into a first apartment.
In between are a thousand unremarkable days that turn out to be anything but unremarkable. That’s what makes it so special. You don’t get to freeze a season.
Infants don’t stay babies; teens don’t remain teenagers. You can’t control the pace any more than you can hold back the tide. What you can do is show up in each stage.
Toddlers: Chaos and Wonder
Toddlers are pure electricity. One moment they’re hurling Mega Blocks down the hallway.
The next, they’re arranging stuffed animals in a ceremony.
Turning the couch into a “lava fortress,” and don’t forget “Mr. Ham” needs his own chair at dinner.
Try to get through the day without stepping barefoot on a Lego.
As dads, we sometimes fall into grooves: roughhousing with our boys, quiet stories with our girls. But both kids need both worlds. Sons need to hear emotional language. Daughters need freedom to climb, build, and get muddy without hearing, “That’s not ladylike.”
The point isn’t whether it’s dinosaurs or dollhouses they want you in the middle of their world.
And yes, the meltdowns come. Tears over the wrong cup, arguments over who touched it first, food fights, even the occasional ER visit. But one day you’ll miss it. Those messes are memories.
Pre-teens: The Hiding Years
By this stage, the “dad, play with me!” demands fade into earbuds and closed room doors. Still, your kids are watching how you engage.
Your son may drag you into endless video game replays (“Dad, just watch this. One more kill-cam!”), while your daughter might rope you into a TikTok dance where you look like a malfunctioning robot.🤷🏾♂️ When you step into their world, you tell them: you matter to me, even when your world feels foreign.
This is when rituals shine. A (Tuesday) taco night you cook together. A Nerf obstacle course in the living room. Or a Saturday walk to Walgreens. (bribe them with snacks and beverages).
And when crushes show up; your daughter giggling about someone at school or your son bragging about getting a girl’s number. Your role isn’t to interrogate. It’s to stay open. “Tell me, what’s new.” Sometimes they shrug, sometimes they spill it. Either way, you’re saying: I’m here, no matter what.
At this age you’re stacking trust not Legos.
Teens: Storms and Signals
Teen years? They’re thunderstorms. Sudden, loud, unpredictable. Voices crack, emotions flood. Silence and sarcasm show up like uninvited guests. Because they are.
This is where the script goes out the window. Alot of improv parenting. So many judgement calls made daily, weekly…
Your son might grunt from the couch, eyes glued to his phone, only to light up when you ask him to play ball. Your daughter might come storming in because “Dad, you’ll never understand!” then five minutes later ask if you’ll drive her to the store because “you’re the only one who gets it.”
At times its boys pushing you away with silence and girls pulling you into endless late-night talks about friendships, heartbreaks, or why that one person is “literally the worst.” Sometimes it’s the other way around. Either way, your job isn’t to fix everything it’s to hold steady through the storm.
And yes, that means learning to nod through a 20-minute breakdown of a K-pop song lyric, or enduring your son’s passionate Call of Duty Warzone rant about he’s “always carrying the team.”
Young Adults: The Letting-Go Years
Suddenly the house is quiet. They’ve gone off to college, to jobs, to figure themselves out. And you wonder if they even need you anymore.
They do. Just differently. They might text you only when their car makes a strange noise. Or call you just because they know you’ll listen.
They’re like a bag of microwave popcorn. At first no action, and then out of nowhere, the kernels start bursting. Your daughter doesn’t call for weeks. She suddenly FaceTimes you while making pasta, wanting to share her kitchen chaos. Your son shows up at your door with laundry and a grin, asking, “Hey Dad, can we hang out?”
What they’re really saying, in their own ways is, I still need you. Don’t stop showing up.
They’re growing, but you’re still their compass. A simple, “Thinking about you” text carries more weight than you know.
Adult Children: Roots and Returns
By now, your kids may have their own kids. You’re not the daily coach anymore you’re the Anchor. The home base.
You’ll feel sidelined at times. But traditions brunches, road trips, trivia nights become the threads that hold generations together.
And when life knocks them down. Whether a breakup, or layoff; you can still show up with a care package, or a hug that says You’re not alone. I’ve been here before.
You’re not just a father. You’re their lifelong home field. Even when the house is empty, your roots still run deep.
All Together
From toddlers racing through pillow forts to teens testing boundaries. To young adults finding their way. And grown children raising families of their own. The role shifts but the call is the same, show up.
Pain sharpens you.
Dreams guide you.
Mistakes remind your children you’re human and still here.
And all of it, every age and every stage, is practice. Not the kind you run in gyms or on fields, but the kind that happens in living rooms, car rides, and bedtime routines.
If the living room is your arena, what kind of game will you play tonight?
How many championships are won in the laugh you share after a tough day?
When the day feels small, it’s where the biggest work is done.
Until next time,
Barkim
Quizotes:
“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” - Socrates
“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” - Aristotle
“He who conquers others is strong; he who conquers himself is mighty.” - Laozi
“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” - Confucius
“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” - Laozi
“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not.” - Epicurus
“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.” - Marcus Aurelius
“We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.” - Seneca
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