It was a typical Irish Summer day. 14 degrees Centigrade. I only needed a light overcoat. Magically, no wind was blowing. I’d worked hard over the weekend and was ahead of the curve. The golf course was calling. ‘Come to me, O remedial one’.
Monday Competition: Every Monday there is a competition in St. Anne’s. You just have to show up and get drawn to play alongside whoever is there at the time. It’s a good way to meet new people and tell them my 3 jokes (a consultant in the USA once told me: “it’s easier to get a new audience, than a new speech”!).
Close Call: We were playing opposite a competitive duo. There were a couple of shots between us, but the handicap system evens it up. Except on temperament. One of the guys was incredibly intense. When he hit a bad shot, he went nuts, flinging his clubs on the ground, using language that would make a coalminer blush. On the 3rd hole (and we played 18) he announced, “This is not my f…..g day” and continued in bad form for the next 15 holes. Although, technically, they were much better players, we won the game easily
Self-Talk: Most of us are great at something e.g. marketing, accounting, ear nose & throat surgery, whatever. But none of us is great at everything. There are elements in our life where our performance is less than stellar or our current circumstances are unhappy. So, what do you do? Well, essentially you have three choices (1) You try to change it – whatever the ‘it’ is. (2) Alternatively, you give up on the ‘fix it’ agenda and move into acceptance mode (3) But what you shouldn’t do is to continually beat yourself up about something that you cannot control or have no appetite to change. The ultimate form of self-flagellation is going over and over the things that you’re not good at or that are going South, but not actually do anything about it. A mental Groundhog Day,
Self-Torture: Negative self-talk is a useless form of self-torture. Get golf lessons. Get divorced. Or join a monastery. Just don’t keep beating yourself up. It’s a form of self-punishment that you, and the people around you, can do without. Unless, of course, you have somehow become addicted to your own misery. Now, there’s a thought.
PS: Lighter Note: A friend of mine has been charged with murder for killing a man with sandpaper. To be honest, he only intended to rough him up a bit.
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