Finding that place where everything is possible

On April 15, Chyna Thomas was driving her 1998 Toyota Camry near Tacoma, Washington when it left its lane and hit a concrete divider. The car was launched into a metal sign post. Thomas was killed. She was 22.

She was the sister of Isaiah Thomas, an NBA player for the Boston Celtics, who were starting a playoff series against the Chicago Bulls the next day.

The Celtics lost the first two games but won the next four to eliminate Chicago. In the first game of the next series against the Washington Wizards, Thomas got an elbow in the mouth which knocked his front tooth out.

On May 1, Thomas spent six hours getting dental work done. May 2 was his sister’s birthday and Game 2 of the series. He didn’t think he had the energy to play, but couldn’t sit out. “I wanted to win for her,” he said.

Thomas was the 60th and last pick in the 2011 draft. He’s the shortest man in the league, listed at 5 feet 9 inches. On his sister’s birthday, sleep-deprived, grieving and in pain, he had an astounding game, scoring 53 points, second most in team playoff history. Twenty-nine of his points were in the fourth quarter and overtime. The Celtics won 129-119.

Then there’s the story of Eugenie Bouchard, much less profound but noteworthy.

On April 27, the Canadian tennis player denounced Maria Sharapova, who had been banned for using a performance enhancing drug. Bouchard called Sharapova a cheat and said she should be banned for life. Bouchard had never beaten Sharapova. On May 8 at the Madrid Open, Bouchard faced the former No. 1 and beat her in three sets.

Bouchard said she was inspired before the match because a lot of other players were rooting for her. “So I wanted to do it for myself, but also for these people.”

Something is definitely going on here. If you don’t think so, you weren’t watching Monday Night Football on Dec. 22, 2003.

That was the day Green Bay Packers quarterback Brett Favre played the game of his life. With the team battling for a playoff spot, he passed for 311 yards and four touchdowns against the Oakland Raiders —in the first half. He finished with 399 yards, three yards shy of his career high. His team won 41-7.

Favre considered skipping that game, and no one would have blamed him. His father, who had been to every one of his son’s games since Grade 5, had died of a heart attack the day before.

Favre said he’d never been so nervous before a game, but “I knew that my dad would have wanted me to play.”

The son played for his father. And the son’s teammates played for him. Donald Driver told his fellow receivers, “Anything he throws, we catch. I don’t care what it is — behind us, over our head, if we have to get on a ladder or jump on a guy’s shoulder, we’re going to catch the ball.”

Writer Brett Smiley called it “an almost surreal display of football perfection.”

Grief or grudge, it’s clear these professional athletes drew on something bigger than themselves to accomplish amazing feats. It didn’t matter how they were feeling that day, if they had nerves, if they had doubts. Nothing held them back.

These were superhuman moments, but they were achieved by mortals like us. And that’s what’s so intriguing about their accomplishments. In my never-ending quest for the meaning of life, moments like these utterly fascinate me.

Imagine if everyone could find that zone, be truly in the moment, perform in service rather than for any selfish reason. You’d be tapping into a source of infinite power. Maybe it’s impossible to get there. But what if it’s impossibly easy? Maybe there really is no try.

What are we waiting for?