"No work or love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now." – Alan Watts
 
This quote reminds me each day that everything we do or want to do in life must come from pure intention, and while we're doing it we must enjoy it in the present moment.
 
  
 
When asked to write a piece on my experience and development as an athlete at Stony Brook University, I timidly accepted. Not because I feared I couldn't provide the perfect message, but because I didn't know if I would be able to provide the right one.
 
I fought myself, and essentially wrote piece after piece – never really being satisfied with the finished product. I wanted to share how special my career at Stony Brook has been.
 
The truth of the matter is that sports are just like life. We've been conditioned to value significance more than love – to love the finished product more than the unwavering effort, time, and sacrifice toward becoming what we always saw ourselves being.


 
So I'm here to tell you, and mean wholeheartedly, the greatest accomplishment as an athlete is coming to the realization that accomplishment simply holds no true value. This has always been difficult for me to share with a fellow athlete. I mean, when it's all said and done, I will be a top five wideout in nearly every statistical category at Stony Brook in just three seasons played. It's easy for the three-time all conference, team captain, highly regarded and "respected" Ray Bolden to sit in front of you and tell you not to chase these things.
 
What isn't easy is having everything that you've fallen to your knees and prayed for be given to you, only for you to then understand that the things you thought would bring you fulfillment do the exact opposite. They say failure always finds a way to manifest who you really are, ironically it was my success that did just that.                                                      
  
 
I started a journal on June 20, 2015, which was shortly after the end of my first semester at Stony Brook. From that day until September 18, 2016, everything I wrote described a wholesome, goal-oriented, certain kid. I knew that if I worked hard, never cheated, and kept my faith I would achieve everything I sought out to accomplish.
 
On September 18, 2016, hours after knocking off the No. 2 team in the nation, I walked back to my room and wrote "I am DEPRESSED."
 
On top of that, I had to acknowledge that – quite frankly – I no longer loved the game. How do I, of all people, have the right to be unhappy? To take a step back and see your true authentic self is a near disastrous experience.

How do you not love something that has loved you back unconditionally? How do you not love something that has shown you that where you start does not to dictate your outcome?


 
To have the nerve to not appreciate what many would give anything to have brought me nothing but shame and resentment. As an athlete, my career was going great. As a son, grandchild, nephew and cousin, my family sacrificed immensely to allow me to get to where I am.
 
As a person, the kid who once walked around with his head down because he came from poverty had people telling him they looked up to him. I knew deep down why these thoughts and feelings began to manifest. It was because the facades I put forth to be seen had not only become what people expected from me, but they admired them, and none of it was me. Everything, the relationships I built, the way I was perceived, it was all a lie, and it was an extremely tough pill to swallow.
 
Weeks went on, and my resentment and shame started to build. So did doubt and frustration. My junior season would go on to be the worst of my career, and like we all do when confronted with an issue, I searched for answers. In my search I came across a book called The Essence of Alan Watts. It is about the ideologies and beliefs of Alan Watts on the concepts of identity and ego. I read a quote that resonated with me and would eventually go on to alter my perspective.
 
"The biggest ego trip is the relinquishment of the ego itself."
 
As I'd indulged in what this meant even more, I concluded that my sense of self-value had been derived from the things I'd accomplished, and how others felt about them. I didn't fall out of love with the game, I just never loved it.


 
I loved the things that came with it: the Saturday nights when the lights came on, the attention that I thought was love, the interviews, seeing my name in the paper, etc.
 
Everything that was artificial about the game is what I loved, so I gave myself a choice: Either make a change and allow myself to love it, or step aside and allow someone else who was willing to give the game their heart the opportunity.

  
 
On Dec. 4, 2016, I was told that I was elected captain of the 2017 team.
 
At that point, I knew that I had an opportunity to let some things go and become what I needed to be. On that day, I wrote my last piece in that specific journal.
 
"Ego."
 
I then crossed it out, and as big as I could I wrote the word "selfless."
 
This was the genesis of the person I am today and it was the greatest decision I could have made for myself because of how it affected the people around me. I put so much effort, time, and energy into trying to become the most selfless and pure-hearted human I could be. I need to show that I valued the man next to me more than I valued myself.
 
As a team, we quickly understood that no individual was bigger than what we were trying to create – a new culture.
 
That message, and my heart, would be put to the test on Nov. 18.
 
Just a week after being knocked unconscious during our game vs. Wagner, my season and career would be brought to an end due to breaking my foot.
 
I feared that everything I'd learned and felt would be diminished due to something that was out of my control. I woke up that same night with such a heavy heart, not a heart of sorrow and pain. Instead, I had a heart of overwhelming love and understanding. I cried for what felt like hours because I now knew that what I felt was real, and I decided to do everything in my power to let my team know I would be as strong of a presence as I could be.
 
Ironically, when I cared the least about my own personal accomplishments I found that I succeeded the most. It was special to see what could be accomplished as a group, not as individuals.
 
When I say accomplish I'm not speaking in terms of the wins, or our first playoff bid since joining the CAA.
 
I mean it in terms of the growth and development in our understanding of what we should value. We succeeded and failed, hurt and overcame.
 
One thing remained constant, though – our love. Learning that the foundation for growth is nothing more than to love genuinely, that is the greatest thing being a student-athlete at Stony Brook University taught me.
 
I could have easily sat here and shared the story of a kid that overcame obstacle after obstacle to be where I am today, but I didn't want to do that. The ultimate message I want to share is that, as an athlete, learning to love the right things is what's most important.
 
Whether you're finding that fulfillment in proving people who doubted you wrong, chasing a championship as team, or flat out just trying to figure out who you are, you need to learn to love the process and to acknowledge your growth throughout it.

Finally, to the athlete whose career is going the way you dreamt it, don't become complacent. Deal with the success correctly. To the athlete who feels like nothing has gone right for them, know when you look up and the clock has hit zero for the last time that you'll come to realize one thing.
 
Just because things didn't go as you always had envisioned, that doesn't mean the game was cruel to you or didn't love you back. To the young athlete who doesn't know what to expect, do the opposite of that – don't expect anything. Just be present in the moment, think one step after another and things will fall into place.


 
I'd like to thank my teammates, coaches, family, friends, and the entire SBU family for helping me find myself. To Shawn Heilbron, Coach Priore, and Coach Edwards, you taught me to raise my standards as a man and I want to thank you personally for that.
 
To my teammates (including Nick Anderson, my best friend for life), it was an honor to be considered a role model. It was even more of an honor, though, to learn how to learn how to love you guys.
 
With sincere thanks,



Ray