Serendipitous Splendor

From Rage to Serenity

Time and again, I joined my father and brother for a round on the golf course, only to find myself in tears, rage coursing through my veins. Each swing felt like a desperate attempt to conquer an insurmountable challenge, my grip tightening until blisters formed, as if sheer force could unlock the game's secrets.

But today is different. After taking lessons for the past few weeks, I stand on the range under an 80-degree sun, bucket of balls at my side, practicing my drills and warming up. I attempt a few swings with my newly learned technique, and it feels awkward, like brushing your teeth with your non-dominant hand. The swings aren't perfect, but they're better—much better than they would have been without this week's practice. Much better than if I had let the recent horrific rounds on the range and course overwhelm me.

The notions of a good or bad swing fade to the background. Am I better than I once was? Maybe slightly, but what excites me is the realization of my potential for growth. The vast room for improvement is exhilarating.

This transformation didn’t happen overnight, nor was it confined to the golf course. It was a slow, deliberate process, driven by a commitment to mindfulness and meditation. This practice has profoundly altered my approach to challenges, shifting my perspective from one of rigid judgment to one of open curiosity.

In the past, I was quick to label myself and my efforts:

I believed this harsh self-criticism was universal, a necessary motivator. But through meditation, I began to see things differently. Instead of labeling each experience, I started to observe them as they were.

Running provided a perfect metaphor. On a run, the only truths are left, right, left, right, crunch of gravel, left, right, chirping birds. You may be thinking about work during a run, but work is not currently occurring. This simple awareness of the present moment began to reshape my mindset.

Meditation taught me to observe without judgment, to let go of those self-imposed labels. It guided me to embrace the journey rather than fixate on the outcome. This shift in perspective transformed my frustration into a serene acceptance of my imperfections and an eagerness to improve.

Standing on the range now, I'm no longer driven by the need for immediate perfection. Life is still a struggle, and not every day feels like progress, but there's a deeper appreciation for the journey. The beauty of being 'bad' at something is that it gives you so much room to grow, and that space is a vast opportunity. Embracing this growth mindset has not only improved my golf game but has also brought a more balanced perspective to my life.

By letting go of the need for immediate success and embracing the slow, often frustrating process of improvement, I’ve found a new sense of peace and purpose. Whether on the golf course or in everyday life, the journey of growth is where true fulfillment lies.