On Golf and Fear

Okay, so I did the WW post and honestly....it was kinda a bust.  I posted on three different boards and got one response.  And I realized that it's not the posting that scared me.  It's the sheer size of the community that is daunting.  There must be several hundred boards on the WW site.  And some people (many people) have posted 20,000+ times.  No lie.  That's dedication.  But it's not my thing.

Now to my next fear:  a little white ball that you put in a cup with a stick.  Sounds easy, right?  OMG!  How can such a ridiculous game have such a hold on me?  GOLF.  Okay, I know what part of it is.  Take a look at where I spend as many mornings as I possibly can:

 This is the twelfth fairway at Deep Cliff Golf Course, and, yes, that is a deer ignoring me with all the confidence that I will never hit it.   The picture below is the signature hole, #2.  That cliff is truly breathtaking and is going to be featured in one of my upcoming books.

I golf by myself frequently.  There is a mountain lion that frequents the golf course, although I must say I've never seen him.  I did see a coyote once and lots of egrets and ducks and geese and deer, always.  But the wildlife never scares me.  I always feel safe and content with the forest.  It's my golf game that scares me. 

Today, my putting was good.  My long shots were pretty decent too.  But my pitching was awful. The twenty yard shots.  I'd either end up two inches short of the green or lob a long one ten yards on the other side.  But that is how golf works, I am told.  Is it the golf gods?  Like some days, the driving gods are with you and the chipping gods are not.  Some days the Great Guru of Putts cannot be bothered to push your ball "just one half turn more"?
Or is it that just as you approached the hole the earth hiccupped just enough to stop your ball one inch short? 

There is a lot to consider in golf.  The kind of grass.  How wet it is?  Is the air heavy with moisture or is the humidity low?  Is the wind in your face or at your back or any one of 360 degrees of direction it could be blowing.  Is the green uphill or downhill?  Does it slope left to right or right to left or not at all?  Did someone leave a divot?  Did a ground squirrel dig a hole?  Does a bee land in the line of your putt just after you released?  Did you hit the cart sign?  The OOB stake?   Did the tree jump out and eat your ball?  Or was it the seductive call of the water that swallowed your ball. 

Why do we love golf so much? The pros love it because they make a lot money.  Okay, I never talked to one and they probably love it for other reasons too.  But I am reasonably certain that I am never going to win the FedEx cup in this lifetime, anyway.  I am fairly certain that my husband is going to continue to beat me most of the time (and let me know about it, too).  Reasonably certain that I am not going to win the annual championship at my Thursday Ladies Golf Club.

But out there by myself, with just those deer and the sunrise, with the sound of the birds and the feel of my putter in my hand, I feel all's right with the world.  And I am NOT afraid of a little white ball.



On Fear and Courage

I want to talk about fear.  I'm not talking about being afraid of the big things:  flying, sky diving, falling off a high cliff.  Of course I'm afraid of those things.  Everyone is afraid of flying these days.  The thought of navigating through the airport; trying to find a small space for your computer when everyone else has carried on mega-luggage; squeezing into airline seats that have gotten smaller while your seat has gotten larger.  What's not to be fearful of?  But that fear is rational in my mind.  I want to talk about the little fears that I have had all of these years and I'm afraid (more fear) to admit.  Some of the items on my bucket list are things that have to do with overcoming fear.  Case in point:  I'm afraid of heights and I'm afraid of bridges.  So one day last summer I walked the Golden Gate Bridge. It may have been liberating at the time, but I wouldn't do it again.  And even that fear had to do with potential bodily harm (at least in my mind), so again, it falls more in the rational category. 

I'm talking about little, stupid, irrational fears.  Like the fear of failure.  Not so little or irrational, you say?  Of course not.  But it's not fear of failure, really, that keeps me from trying new things, or even retrying old things. It's public fear of failure that scares me to death.  Being totally honest that I'm going to try something and totally open when I fail.   Losing weight?  I have been struggling for years.  Finally, last January, I hunkered down.  My sister and I re-joined Weight Watchers with renewed determination.  We have shared tips, recipes, successes and tears.  We have both lost over 35 pounds.  So what's the problem?  I've gone onto the Weight Watchers website at least five times and read  community posts by someone reaching out with their own success or their own frustration.  I have started to answer their post.  To congratulate them or share my own thoughts.  I have wanted to become a part of that community.  But each time I stopped.  Why?  Because I am still afraid I will fail, and failing in front of my sister, who loves me, and will still love me is really not that scary.  Failing in front of all those other people, the ones I don't know, now that's really scary.  Writing this blog post is scary. 

But I am really tired of coming from a place of fear.  Not living large because I am trying to protect myself in some convoluted way.  These years are not meant for fear.   These years are meant for courage.  I am going to muster up my courage and post on the Weight Watchers bulletin boards.   And after I do, I will let you know how it goes.  And then I'll choose another irrational, stupid little fear and tackle it.  So, please come along with me on this journey if you like.  Tell me about your little fears (or not so little fears) and then share your courage. And invite your friends.    I can use all the support I can get. 

Expanding Interests

There are a lot of things I don't know.  Far more than I do know.  But there are a few things I am sure of.  One of them is that as we age, our interests expand, rather than contract.  I'm not sure we think about life this way very often.  In fact, if you are like me, you might have thought that this phenomena is like that of a baby "soaking up knowledge like a sponge".  We, therefore, have been sort of conditioned to believe that youth is a time to dabble in lots of interests and then pick one (around time for college) and then stick with it to build a solid career. Well, that's how I did it, anyway.  How boring!  And the truth is that I stuck with the model until it nearly sucked all the life out of me.  I even stuck with it long after I realized that although I still liked what I was doing with my life, I was no longer impassioned to do it.  In fact, there were other things that were pulling on me to turn left, or right.  And those forces were growing stronger with each day that I ignored them, until finally, the swimming upstream became so difficult that I was literally stopped.  I had stopped caring, stopped growing (except my dress size) and stopped learning.  And then, finally, I got off my one track path.  And that's when I realized that I am not passionate about one thing.  I gave myself permission to be interested in as many things as I wanted.

Be a Farmer:  Some of my favorite tomatoes!

 

Be a Merchant: Helping Melissa with her Garage Sale......or be a Candy Maker: Here, trying to make caramels for the first time.

And a miracle happened.  Okay, it was a small miracle compared to walking on water or something like that.  But it was my miracle.  I discovered that lots of interests isn't what I used to think: that like rushing water with no banks, too many interests would just cause my energy to flow out, disperse and eventually just dry up.  No, it didn't happen that way.  Instead, my many interests were like river banks.  Building tributaries.  And the water rushes through them, endlessly and builds energy.  And interests beget interests and more banks and more water.  My life is fuller now than ever before.  More fun, more laughter, more things...way more things to do and see and experience than can fit in the finite time I have left.
Some people worry that they will run out of money before the end of their life.  I worry that I will run out of life before I have done all that I have to do.
Damn my old belief system that kept me a prisoner to the "do one thing and do it well" school of thought.  I wish I'd jumped off the train years ago.  But thank God that I didn't wait a minute longer than I did. 
Don't wait.  Be a doctor, lawyer, tinker, tailor, soldier, writer, painter, gardener, chef, farmer....not which ever one you want to be....but all that you want to be.  Expand your interests and your life can only expand with it.