Keep it in the fairway. Sounds simple enough. But it’s not. It matters, and we know it, but we still find ourselves swinging for the fences and struggling to find our golf ball, because it’s not in the fairway. It’s forever lost. We know what we should do, but we choose not to respect this simple truth. And as a result, we dig ourselves into a hole that’s difficult to get out of. There’s a lot of fairway between knowing and doing. And some of the simplest and most powerful fundamentals in golf seem impossible to incorporate into our deeply engrained golf swings. Muscle memory is difficult to re-wire, and that’s not necessarily a good thing, when they’re conditioned to do the wrong thing. Not intentionally, but because it’s what they know. So it goes in golf – and life.
My wife Danielle lost one of her two beloved uncles several years ago. The funeral became a pivotal experience for me. A California Park Ranger, Hector was properly honored not only for his service but for his well lived life. I was struck that day at the grave site, listening to the beautiful things being said about this beautiful man, and I was overcome with mixed emotions. Had anyone shared these feelings and thoughts with Hector when he was alive? Did he really know how respected and loved he was? I feared that the answer was no, and it chilled me to the bone. It’s not that he didn’t know deep inside that he was respected and loved. It was just that the words being shared were so deep, so heartfelt, so meaningful, and so freely given, but Hector likely never heard them. It was heart breaking for me. What would we give to simply hear that we’re loved by those around us, and why. The window for deep impact on Hector’s life had already closed with his passing. But the window of deep impact on my life was smashed open. I awoke to the power and possibility to change lives with nothing more than heart felt words. I walked away that day committed to working on sharing my feelings more freely – more unfiltered or processed. Less than a month later, my best friend was days from dying of cancer at far too young an age. Still not mature or ripe enough to make the full leap and look him in the eyes to share my respect and love for him, I wrote him a letter and left it with him at the hospital. I knew I’d be giving a eulogy at his service within days, and I wanted him to know how I felt about him – while he was still living. Steve was a simple man with a complex life – a man of modest means. I simply shared my respect for who he was as a man, leaving a letter with him a week before he passed away expressing my respect and love for him. I saw him one more time before he died and although on morphine, he let me know that this letter – this sharing of the heart that took no more than 10 minutes to write but half a life time to be able to write it – was the single most important thing to him. It validated for him what I just assumed he already knew, and although I’m sure he did, the outward expression deeply affected him. He asked me if he could share this letter with his son, who he felt didn’t respect him because he hadn’t achieved worldly success. He wanted his son to know that he was a success, not because of the score, but because of the manner in which he played the game. It was the most important gift ever given him in his short life. It validated him, days before his last breath. And it changed me forever. We know what to do when it comes to sharing our hearts with others, and the profound impact it can have on someone. Do it.