LETERS FROM HOME: ATTEMPTING TO MASTER THE ART OF GETTING TO KNOW YOURSELF

May 27, 1999

Dear Julie,

In DC, the desire to master a new skill produces pottery, little of which meets her approval yet. Mastery takes time.

This is my fifth year of playing golf. Mastery is far, far from me. As you hear often on the course, it's a humbling game.

Golf also is a physical game as any football player who has tried to play knows and a game that tests your mind.

I am trying to teach my father the rudiments, a reversal of our roles when I was a boy with a new baseball glove. Now it's his turn to grapple with the techniques that someday will enable him to play without thinking about them.

When I stand behind a shot and quickly compute the distance, factoring in elevation of the green, location of the pin, wind direction and velocity and maybe humidity just for fun, he looks stupefied. It can be a stupefying game.

It is my game because it engages my soul.

You learn about yourself on the golf course if you're paying attention. You find out how you react to adversity. When you hit a bad shot, do you blame the condition of the course? Some golfers do. Others scold themselves mercilessly.

You also discover how you feel about succeeding. Some golfers fail to improve because they're comfortable playing at a certain level, it fits their self-image. When they threaten to play better they sabotage themselves.

I did it yesterday. With five holes to play, my best score was within reach. In that spot, some golfers become arch conservatives, hoping to keep from making a calamitous mistake.

My choice was my usual shot off the next tee but I was so caught up with thinking about a personal triumph I forgot to account for the westering wind. The shot and my score on the hole ended up badly, and while trying to figure out what went wrong I played poorly the next four holes.

The difficult trick to golf is staying in the present. Anger about the bad shot you just made dilutes your attention to the here and now. The shot at hand will not be hit as well as you're capable of.

Likewise, thinking about how good it will feel to shoot a certain score or win a tournament is certain to doom your chances of shooting that score or winning that tournament.

Golf must be played one shot at a time.

Fear is the golfer's worst enemy, confidence his best friend.

I have just completed a marathon of playing six days in a row. And all I want to do is play some more.

Maybe you wonder why I didn't choose to try to master the piano or watercolors. I don't know. Golf seemed to choose me.

It's difficult to convince a nongolfer that a golf shot or a round of golf can be a work of art, beautiful and ephemeral as a Buddhist sand mandala.

A round of golf is like a personal four-hour play in which each golfer is the protagonist. Misfortune will befall you, some of your own making, some not. Then hit a shot so purely you can't even feel it and the gates of heaven will seem to open.

Zen monks become expert archers only to give away their bows and arrows. It is not which skill you pick that counts, though it must be something you love. The mastery is what matters. It is a mastery over yourself.

Love, Sam