Life, Golf, and the Next Shot

When I first started playing golf, I thought it would be helpful for making business connections.

I was right. A lot of business happens on the golf course.

I also noticed that when you play fairly well, people seem to listen to you differently—especially when you are a woman. So, because I like competing with myself, I took lessons and learned how to swing.

Kind of.

Like almost everything else, golf takes practice.

The more I played, the more I realized that I never knew which version of myself was going to show up. Would it be the calm and confident version? The frustrated version? The overthinking version? Or the version who hits one beautiful shot and suddenly believes she has mastered the entire game?

Golf has been called the game of life and the game of inches. I understand why.

Watching other people play taught me that one bad shot does not mean you are out of the hole—or out of the game. You can recover.

The same is true of a good shot. A beautiful drive does not guarantee that you will finish the hole well. There are still decisions to make and more shots to take.

Golf requires you to manage your thoughts. There is math involved. You must consider the distance, choose the right club, and understand how to use it. You have to manage your body, your hands, and perhaps most importantly, your head.

Sometimes I play with friends who badger the heck out of one another, hoping to knock each other off their game. It is always amusing—until someone succeeds.

You can tell when one person has gotten into another person’s head.

I can certainly tell when someone gets into mine.

The longer I play, the more golf reminds me of life. You can play beautifully on one hole, one day, or one course—and then feel as though you have lost everything on the next.

Very few players are completely consistent. Those who come closest are professionals, and even they have difficult rounds.

The rest of us keep returning to learn.

Golf can also be enjoyed in many different ways. You don’t have to be the most athletic person on the course. You can enjoy the scenery, spend time with friends, challenge yourself, or simply appreciate a day outside.

One of our most enjoyable rounds was with another couple. The husband loved to play. His wife did not—but she could see the shots that needed to be made and always seemed to know which club he should use. They worked as a team and were so much fun to be around.

That experience reminded me that we do not all have to participate in the same way to contribute something valuable.

It takes resilience to return to the course after a terrible round. It takes resilience to walk up to the next ball when you feel pressure, doubt yourself, or simply are not playing well that day.

Grit is not hitting every shot perfectly.

Grit is staying in the game.

It is learning from the last shot without allowing it to control the next one. It is adjusting your stance, choosing another club, taking a breath, and trying again.

Life asks the same of us.

Some days we feel capable and confident. Other days, nothing seems to work. Neither day defines us.

We are always allowed to take another shot.

This week, ask yourself:

What “bad shot” am I allowing to define me—and what would change if I treated it as only one moment in a much longer game?

With love,

Nadean