Lent Day 37: Golf Is a Sport That Helps Us Learn to Live Life
- Flannel Diaries
- Apr 16
- 4 min read
“Golf is assuredly a mystifying game. It would seem that if a person has hit a golf ball correctly a thousand times, he should be able to duplicate the performance at will. But such is certainly not the case.” — Bobby Jones
Golf is not cheap. Neither is living life. Shit’s complicated to navigate.
When I was in the Philippines, I went golfing with my nephew, Josh. The course was wild—in every sense of the word. Cow grass. Chickens. Goats. A random dog scurrying across the fairway like he had somewhere important to be. By the time we were sitting at the resort’s bar after the round, Josh looked at me and said, “Adulting is harder than I thought.”
I laughed. “Yeah, kid. Nobody prepares you for the back nine of life.”
I told Josh that I think life is a lot like golf. On the surface, it seems simple. Ball. Club. Hole. Try to get there in as few strokes as possible. Easy, right?
Wrong.
Just like life, it only looks easy to the untrained eye. It’s about learning the fundamentals—how to hold the club, how to shift your weight, how to breathe and swing—and then applying them over and over again with consistency and grace. You can’t fake your way through it. You have to show up. Practice. Stay grounded. Trust your body. Trust yourself. And when things go sideways? You regroup. You adjust. You play the ball where it lies.
It wasn’t until the 16th hole that day that it hit me: we need to be Zen about golf, and Zen about life. Breathe. Reset. Let go of that last bad shot—or bad decision—and swing again. Like all the Tarot readers say: It’s not that serious. Don’t overthink. Don’t obsess. And definitely don’t waste your energy worrying about what other people think of you. It’s not your business, and it never serves you.
Me? I just want to look back someday and say: “Yeah, I lived a really fucking amazing life. I loved a lot of brilliant, beautiful women. I had incredible, loyal friends. I made people laugh. I made a difference. I did the best I could with the cards I was dealt.”
That’s it. That’s the win.
But here’s the thing: life isn’t always Zen. Sometimes it’s a damn mess. People don’t always see what it took to get here. I didn’t arrive in this life by accident or ease. I worked my ass off. And I didn’t do it alone. Friends, chosen family, and the real ones held me down when everything else was trying to hold me back. They celebrated the wins and sat with me through the losses. That kind of love? That’s the kind that keeps you going.
There's this myth in America about rugged individualism—about how we’re all supposed to bootstrap our way to success. But when you look around, what do you see? Uniformity. Conformity. People clinging to their red caps, screaming about freedom while marching in lockstep behind fascism. They say they believe in “individual liberty,” but they also believe people like me don’t belong. That if you’re brown, queer, trans, or immigrant—you should just disappear.
The irony of that is almost funny. If it weren’t so terrifying.
Honestly? I’m tired. I’m tired of acting like things are normal when everything around us is on fire. I’m tired of pretending this country is still a functioning democracy when we all know it’s teetering. And what do we do? We just... keep going to work. Keep shopping. Keep smiling. Like nothing’s happening.
It’s not that I don’t want to keep showing up. I do. But I also don’t know how to show up anymore in a world that never accepted me to begin with—and is now actively trying to erase me.
And the scariest part? Most people who aren’t like me have no idea how dangerous this world is becoming for me.
Lenten Reflection: Playing Through the Rough
“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” – Psalm 73:26 (NRSV)
Lent is like the back nine of a hard course. The wind has picked up. The sun is setting. Your body’s tired. But you keep swinging.
🌿 Where am I trying too hard to play a perfect game, instead of trusting my instincts?
🌿 What lie have I believed—that I have to go it alone, that rest is weakness, that I’m too much or not enough?
🌿 Who are the people still walking the course with me when the fairways get narrow and the storms roll in?
This week, let’s remember: we don’t have to swing perfectly. We just have to keep showing up. Let’s choose courage over control. Let’s breathe, reset, and take the next shot—together.
Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other.
📖 More reflections: flanneldiaries.com
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