no need to compete

I had a rare experience this past Wednesday. For nearly an entire golf game, I was free from the need to compete.

It didn’t start that way. Bruce and I were in Cancun, Mexico, at the signature Jack Nicklaus course at Moon Palace Resort. We were paired with a couple of guys from the Rex Sales group—both of ‘em pretty darn serious golfers who brought their clubs, shoes, and gloves.I remember the feeling as I teed up (rented clubs, running shoes, no glove—and without golfing all summer). Nervous. Would I embarrass myself, especially being the only woman? A solid hit off the first tee. Whew.

By the fourth or fifth hole, I was hitting if I felt like it, picking up if not. Or playing best ball off Bruce’s. Not counting the whiffs. After all, it was a beautiful, breezy, sunny day. The sights and sounds were new. A flock of seriously turquoise birds clamored loudly and called for a photo. A crane posed serenely in the water.

I didn’t realize until the game was over that I wasn’t competing. Mind you, I compete all the time--mostly against myself, but often against others at work, or running... Or heaven forbid, even at church. I have some impossibly high standards for myself, and I’m my worst enemy.

The absence of competition meant that I was present in the moment. I enjoyed the scenery. I celebrated the good hits of the others in our foursome. It wasn’t about worry or being better or anything except having fun, and that I did.

There was a big lesson for me in this. Competition is stress, continual comparison, and a robber. It steals my joy on a regular basis. I’m grateful for the lesson—and hope to bring it from the golf course into daily life.