How quickly one's moods shift on a golf course, buoyancy followed by irritation at the shortcomings of the course and self. As I walk after the ball, keeping my eye on where I think it ended up among the wool and gull feathers, I can watch my mind churning away.
In golf, with its many pauses, its often lengthy walks between one shot and the next, there's time to watch thoughts and emotions shift, merge and succeed each other with all the inevitability and impersonality of thin clouds across the boundless sky. It's a meditation of sorts. Instead of watching my breath, mindfulness of breathing, this is mindfulness of golfing.
Figuring out what to do with this awareness - of how desire creates anxiety creates tension that leads to poor shot which makes for irritation, which is silly because it's only a golf ball for God's sake and the day is beautiful - well, that's Scottish Presbyterian Buddhist stuff and it's going to take a lifetime to work it out.
-Andrew Greig, Preferred Lies: A Journey to the Heart of Scottish Golf
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
On Scottish Presbyterian Buddhist stuff......
Labels:
books,
Golf,
Life Its Ownself,
Meditation,
Mind,
thoughts,
Writing
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