I was 58 when I went to my first Highland Games, a celebration of all things Scottish…

The caber toss, specifically, is a sporting event at the Highland Games, categorized under “heavy athletics”.  Imagine kilt wearing athletes from differing clans, lifting and throwing a twenty foot, tapered, wooden pole weighing 100+ pounds, hoping to rotate it, as closely as possible, 180 degrees and, thereby, earn points. 

So, why would I find the Caber Toss remotely interesting?  Fair question. Initially, I didn’t, as it was so far outside of my frame of reference. I can confidently say that I would have NEVER imagined myself as a fan. In hindsight, I see how dismissive I was initially. Thankfully, I opened my eyes…the utter novelty of it caught my attention, as well as the unbridled excitement of the crowd. It became infectious. 

My inner nerd came out and I went down a rabbit hole, reflecting on the history behind it all. I started to do my research, Googling, asking questions, talking to other fans, in hopes of learning as much as I could. Last week was my fourth Scottish Games and, when the games started, I was among the first to grab my seat. I’m proud to say that I’ve been influenced.

So, what’s my fascination? To make a long story short: 

• On a macro level, heritage and community 
• On a micro level, sport, music, dance, artistry and food 

And while this particular experience highlights everything Scottish, it underscores the beauty of cultural humility and appreciation. The act of looking beyond ourselves, to recognize and value other people’s history and traditions…the ability to step into someone else’s world, look around, learn, grow and, possibly, enjoy. 

So, how does an endorsement for cultural appreciation unfold from a simple reference to the caber toss? It’s both simple and profound: I can be me AND appreciate you. 

-It’s not a zero sum experience. 

-It’s expansion vs reduction. 

We live in a diverse world and that diversity extends to so many domains, the ones we readily identify and those that are less clear. And, oftentimes, it’s quicker and may even feel better (on the surface) to highlight differences. It’s a contraction of sorts…a pulling away. Possibly self protective…

What can take time and be more of a challenge is to identify what connects us, ie our commonality. Sometimes it’s easier than others. When all is said and done, though, it’s a choice. Contract or Expand? 

When I find myself in new situations, I ask myself “what can I learn here?” Oftentimes, that helps mitigate any angst that I may be feeling, as I step outside of what’s familiar. So, I offer the same here. If we allow ourselves the time and space to listen to/learn from each other’s stories (and connect with our shared humanity), would we be more likely to find a tie that binds us?