For some inexplicable reason, at the age of 52 I have decided to try my hand at golf. I have never really played golf—maybe the miniature kind now and then, and I think once like 15 years ago I might have played a round of actual golf really poorly. So believe me when I say, I suck at it. I’ve been hitting a local golf range for about two weekends now as I am in no way ready to actually play the game of golf. Still, I’ve been going on each weekend morning around 6:45 a.m. to hit a couple of buckets of balls, and I’ve been studying videos on grip and form. I even signed up for four lessons – two of which have occurred already. And don’t think I went and loaded a bunch of money on clubs. A former co-worker of mine like maybe 15, 16 to 17 years ago gifted me an old pair of clubs as he was purchasing a new pair. I accepted them, but the clubs have sat in my garage doing nothing but gathering dust—until now.
So why this sudden desire to try golf? I guess I just want to try something new. I love the outdoors, and I love sports—and as I get older, I just had the thought that golf might be some new adventure to add some new kind of fun to my life. So far, it’s been anything but fun. It’s been more frustrating than anything else. One day, I can stink to hell and back (not sure that’s a saying) and some days my body and mind just seem to communicate better, and I can send the ball almost exactly where I want it, whether using an iron or a driver. But, it is anything but consistent at this point, and for that reason, it is incredibly frustrating. My instructor tells me to be patient, and the body and mind will eventually communicate as they should—and the swing will come naturally.
As I write this blog, I have come to the conclusion that my barely there golf game is the perfect metaphor for writing. Without a doubt, just as golf requires patience, writing requires an equal amount of the stuff (patience, I mean). And, just as it will take me time to eventually improve my game, so has it taken me time (and will continue to take me time) to improve as a writer. Further, just as golf is quickly becoming one of the most frustrating endeavors I have attempted, writing is just as frustrating. On any give day, I may want to sit down to write and have the words flow out of me in the smoothest most stress-free manner possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen every time I try to write. There will be days where the writing is a struggle, and the ideas won’t come. But then, there are the good days when the writing is frees my spirit and brings me joy because it does flow well. I just have to be patient with myself and not give up on those hard days. Likewise, there have been a time or two where my golf swing has brought me joy (just a little). Still, even on the bad days, I know if I want to increase the good days, I have to be patient and stay committed to the path I have begun. If I can do that in golf, then I can do that with writing – and in the end, I know I will succeed in completing any writing project I begin and similarly one day, I will be able to hit that damn golf ball well and consistently.
So, like I said, I truly believe golf (at least my version of it) is a metaphor for my writing. I do plan to stick with both, as I think the worst thing I could ever do is give up on activities that can bring me joy, have brought me joy and will continue to make my life a bit fuller. I urge all you writers out there to stay with it as well. Have patience and be willing to face the hard days because in the end, you will see what you can accomplish—and it will be amazing.
Okay, my golf game will likely never be amazing at this stage of life, but you get the point. Thanks for reading and keep writing.