Several years ago I hit a drive down the left side in the general vicinity of a fairway bunker. It was a “cart path only” hole, so I gathered a half a dozen clubs, having no idea what I was going to be up against, and stomped across the fairway to size things up. Turns out I was right smack dab in the middle of this beast of a bunker, still a couple hundred yards from the green. I hoofed in, grumbling, and settled in for my attempt at a miracle shot (not very aware of my limitations to actually execute this shot). It went about 40 yards. Within a flash, my 4, 5 6, 7, 8 and 9 irons followed that shot down the fairway, each twirling past my golf ball – one fling at a time. I’m not proud of this. In fact, I’m downright embarrassed by it. But yes – I threw every one of my clubs down the fairway. It happened in a flash, really. And here’s the deal. There was a version of me that had always contained the fury I felt at a particularly bad shot such as this, and there have been many. But this version 2.0 of me that was just emerging and learning to let his emotions run rather than squash them, thanks to some overdue marriage counseling, was uncharted territory for me. Yeah, my emotions ran a little too far at that moment. But I have to admit, for me and where I was at in my journey, it felt good. It wasn’t right, and I’m not condoning it, but it was healthy for me (at least at that time in my life) to let my temporary rage out, and after the first two clubs went sailing the others were more in jest just to finish the job. And there you go. I learned a whole bunch about myself standing alone in a sand trap throwing golf clubs down the fairway. I’ve seen others bury their burst of anger after a bad shot, struggling to contain their rage – and I mean struggling. There was no question that they wanted to rip the head off the nearest squirrel, but they stuffed their feelings and took the more stoic road, at least for the moment. Who knows what dog they kicked in response to their frustrations in their private moments, but for the moment, they put on a good face – just not good enough to fool any of us. Stoicism is overrated, by the way. We romanticize it as heroic and tough, and I get that. But on the other hand, it’s just down right unhealthy to pretend we can carry the weight of the world on our shoulders when we can’t. And whether related to one of life’s challenges or a disastrous golf shot, it can’t be good to allow that building, internalized fury to continue fermenting and rotting away at us for who knows how long. There’s a balance, no doubt, and clearly the other end of the spectrum, involving club throwing or innocent squirrels, is no better. But being aware of where we’re at on those scales, and maturing in the right direction, is part of life’s journey, and golf often provides a pretty honest look in the mirror of exactly who we are and exactly where we’re at on that journey. It isn’t always pretty, but it is always powerful.