Every Single Time: Golf and Life

Let's talk about golf...

I first attempted to learn to play golf many years ago. It didn't go well. Every time I went I left feeling more frustrated than the last time. I compared myself to everyone else and worried about what everyone else was thinking about my attempts. It wasn't fun. In fact, I hated every minute of it yet something about it also intrigued me.

Several years later, I was writing a character who played golf in a book as yet unfinished. I went to write a scene and realized I didn't know enough about the game to write it, so I signed up for golf lessons. I blogged about those lessons on a different version of this blog.

The lessons were empowering and invigorating. I decided I enjoyed hitting the ball. That was something, right?

Eventually, I took those lessons onto a golf course, starting with a 3 par course and playing it until it started to feel too easy. Then I started playing on a 4 par course. That feels about right. It still challenges me but doesn't make me feel overwhelmed.

The first few times I played, I felt some of those old frustrations rise up again. Every time I did, I thought back to my lessons. I even came back and read my blog posts on it a few times... It was interesting to see what I'd remembered after each lesson and how each lesson had affected me. I found the confidence to say to my playing partner, "That's not what I learned in my lessons." when my playing partner said something contrary to what I'd learned. I then proceeded to share what I'd learned.

As my confidence grew, I stopped caring what anyone else thought. I played each time to play better than the last time. I focused in on my strengths and noticed my weaknesses allowing me to play to my strengths. I noticed what felt good and right and comfortable for me.

I learned to focus in on the ball. When I went to tee off, I'd pause and look in the direction of the green. Then I'd focus on the ball. Then I'd do something that felt antithetical to me. I'd relax. Yes, I'd relax. I'd take a deep breath, exhale slowly and relax. Then and only then would I swing. When I relaxed like this, I always played better. Every. Single. Time.

The more I tensed up, the worse I played. Every. Single. Time.

I thought about how when I practice yoga, I have to say in the moment if I want to avoid falling on my head. I applied that same idea to golf. I let go of the chores I was neglecting, the writing I should be doing, the friends I should be calling, the errands I should be running. I just stayed there in the moment with that little ball and that club in my hand. I focused on my breath and meditated on the moment. It was amazing when I'd feel that little rush of presence and stillness settle into my game.

I started to look at this in other places in my life. I noticed that when I came to my writing with tension and stress, my work went slowly. I made more mistakes. I lost my way. I was more easily distracted. I was never happy with what I wrote. My days were far less productive.

When I took a few minutes to relax before starting a project, my work would flow more smoothly. The more I relax, the better my output. The stronger my words. The better my productivity. The more connected I felt to my work.

The harder I "tried" to play, the worse I played. The harder I "tried" to write, the worse I wrote. The more I just played, the better I played. The more I just wrote, the better I wrote.

When I worried about what my golfing partner or other golfers on the course thought about my golfing, the worse I played. The more I worried about what other people would think about what I was writing, the worse I wrote.

When I focused on what was before me with a relaxed and receptive attitude, I performed better. When I enjoyed the process, I accomplished more. When I stopped worrying about other people judging me, I became more confident. When I became more confident, I stopped being influenced by other people's expectations.

While I now play golf a little better than when I started, I'm nowhere near good. I have fun though. I stopped caring about how it looked if I tried and failed. There was always another hole. Yes, one hole could mess up my score for a whole round, but if I let that bad hole get to me, I'd play badly the whole rest of the day. If I took a moment and applied my meditation breath to where I was, I could calm myself and let the bad hole go so I could focus on the next one. Same goes for life.

And, that's the thing. Just because I mess up once, doesn't mean I'm a mess. Just because I make a mistake, doesn't mean I'm a mistake. Just because I fail at something one time, doesn't mean I'm a failure. There's always another opportunity to do better. Every. Single. Time.

Now, where are my club?