THE QUICK MISS
I’m almost a golfer. I love the game, always feel like I’m about to break thru to the next level and usually don’t. There are a couple of reasons my scores don’t improve and they’re mostly related to the amount of time I practice. Because I don’t. Schedules, travel, whatever the excuse is I just don’t spend much time on the range.
But, I play when I can, take lessons and while my friends are hitting the ball 50 yards past my feeble little drives I have a good time. I don’t really get jealous of their strengths and most importantly, I miss quickly. I don’t linger over a chip or a putt very long. I line up, take a deep breath, have maybe one or two current swing thoughts then hit the ball. The player furthest away from the cup plays first so many times I’m still away. So, I hit it again.
I miss quickly. I don’t want to slow down their play so I keep moving. I don’t celebrate my occasional sweet wins or mourn my losses too long
There’s a lot of good information there. Life is a succession of changes. Some major. Some with intense feelings that need to be processed and not raced through. There are losses of jobs, friends, family members and pets. Losing a pet is for some of us especially painful. When I don’t get something I want or have to let go of something I’ve always loved it’s important for me to take time to grieve. I give myself permission to be sad and then angry or whatever comes next in the stages of loss. I could Google them but they show up without my remembering their proper names or order. I feel things deeply, express my emotions without shame and then move on. I miss quickly.
If Trust was a door you might say I reach for the handle faster today than I did twenty-three years ago. That’s when I had my last drink, left the cocaine habit behind and found a new way of living. My guide through the recovery process was a wonderful man named Jerry Hunter. He passed away a decade ago and I miss him still. He had strong opinions about how to deal with loss.
There was a young lady at the time that I was convinced was ‘the one’ and she’d left me. Suddenly starring in this Shakespearian tragedy I’d call him from some metaphoric ledge and tell him I couldn’t go on! He’d always reassure me that the Big Amigo had something better in mind, suggest I give myself a maximum of fifteen minutes on the pity pot and then get back to ‘grateful’. Where I belonged.
He was right. The quick miss allows me to get back into that place where I can truly see the gift my life is, the wealth of love coming from family and friends and a history that suggests there’s somebody bigger and better than me lining up the shots in my life. A quick miss and I am back in the sunlight of the spirit and living a fuller life in Gratitude and Trust.