Okay, so I’m addicted to the game and to the beauty that is the Tarandowah Golfers Club. And I see analogies to life as I set off with my clubs. Eighteen holes. A journey from infancy to old age. Hmm. I wonder what hole I’m on now. How about 14? I’ll take that. I just don’t want to be on the 18th green, facing a three-foot putt. But none of us know when the final hole-out will come. I best enjoy my walk on the pretty green lands.
Let’s contemplate the sweet spot. If I hit the ball on the central area of my clubhead, it’s effortless and high and long. Some of my moments in life are like that. I don’t do anything … wonders just decide to surround me. Maybe a smile, a flower, or writing this blog. And then there are the times when my golf ball hits the shaft of the club and zooms into the rough way to my right. Or a toe hit. Either one feels yucky, like hitting a stone. Away from the course, I might say the wrong thing or stumble on the sidewalk. Perhaps I can’t remember what I went down to the basement for. Or how about constipation? No sweet spot there.
I’ve never broken 100 at Tarandowah. I’ve created a personal par of two over par for each hole. That would give me a score of 106. Two days ago, I finished the front nine with 49, four under my par. Oh bliss! I saw future golfing glory spread before me on the back nine. Then I “birdied” the 10th … five under par. What a good boy am I. On the 11th, a long par four, I hit a fine drive that unfortunately wandered right, slipping into a bunker. No sweat. Just a little sand shot to get back onto the fairway. All this is sort of like a perfect day at work – crossing off items from my “to do” list, saying wise things in meetings, having people smile and nod approval. And then …
It took me six shots to get out of that trap. My final score on the 11th was 16. Felt like a layoff notice.
Whether heroic or devastating, the journey continues to the 18th green. Miles from performance issues, I simply walk the fairway. And I will continue to do so until my ball drops into that final hole.
If I think about the analogy of life being like the golf course, and then I think of you playing the “course of life”, I guess that makes you somewhat of a toddler learning to walk? Haha. Finished the book. Thank you for sharing it with me. If feel close to you both. I will carry it’s messages forward. See you on life’s gameboard.
It does feel that I’m just learning to walk amid life’s mysteries, Tarrynn. I’m glad you enjoyed Jody’s book. See you on the fairway or in the rough.
Bruce