In this episode, How I Found Equipoise on the Links
I had a grand goal, a numerical quest,
To shoot under seventy, passing the test!
With my seventieth birthday just thirty days out,
We headed to Carlsbad to conquer my doubt.
Now, golf is a game full of grumbles and groans,
Of muttering words in quite pitiful tones.
You squeeze on the club till your knuckles turn white,
You count up your score, and you freeze up in fright!
But today on the course, I discovered new joys,
I found that magnificent word: Equipoise!
It means that you’re balanced, composed, and un-rushed,
The voices of panic completely are hushed.
I threw out the math and the scorecard addition,
And swapped out the stress for a simple tradition.
I thought of Ben Hogan, who cleverly taught
"Don't think of the score. The next shot matters far more."
I didn't look back, I didn't look past,
I simply stepped up, and I had a great blast.
Seven nice pars and a birdie so sweet,
Nine bogeys, one double (which kept me on beat).
Then down the stretch where I usually tighten,
My grip didn't clench, and my nerves didn't frighten.
On fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen,
I parred every one with a swing that was clean!
I rubbed both my eyes. I recalculated once more.
It wasn't a dream . . .
It was glorious–SIXTY-FOUR!
I beat it by six with a month to spare,
With gleeful equipoise, I was walking on air!
But here’s the secret, for golf or for life,
When learning guitar or just carving with a knife:
A goal is quite grand; it gets you out of bed,
To point yourself toward a bright target ahead.
But once it is set, put the target away,
And look at the steps you are taking today!
Don't stare at the clock or the score on the board,
Don't worry about all the points you have scored.
Dream giant dreams that seem just out of sight.
Chase mountains and music and things that delight.
But don't drag tomorrow wherever you trot . . .
Today is the day. For the very Next shot.
I'm Patrick Ball. Stay curious and ask better questions. See you next time.

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