Alexandria, VA – This picture of me was taken this summer on the golf course. It was one of those deadly hot days when the temperature and humidity made the air sticky and heavy, which didn’t help the golf ball fly very far. As you can see, I gathered every cooling gadget within reach. So, what inane idiocy had me out there in the first place?
I’m addicted. Golf is hard to explain if you are not a regular player, but it gets into your soul. Beyond always searching for the perfect shot and chasing after lower and lower scores, there’s something positively spiritual about it.
I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I used to sling a light canvas bag over my shoulder with four or five clubs and head off alone to the driving range, putting green, and ultimately to the first tee. I played with my dad mostly on weekends, but during the summer weekdays, I’d be alone, walking nine or eighteen, and time would disappear. My mind would clear. I was practicing and trying to get better, but it was me against me. In the silence, against the beauty of the green grass and flowering plants, the glistening water, and the beaches of sand traps.
Oh, some say it’s a silly game where you hit a little ball into a surgically cut, four-and-a-half-inch hole with a stick, but that’s just something you do while spending a spiritual day alone or jumping into a couple of golf carts with friends and laughing, telling stories, and sharing life’s ups and downs. I’ve made my best friends on the golf course. And rain or shine, hot or cold, it’s always a good day when I pull my golf shoestrings tight, fasten my golf glove, and pull out that brilliant, white, dimpled sphere. It’s better than meditation or medication.
I think many of you find the same peace and Zen in yoga, running, painting, writing, or in various other ways. Perhaps this new issue of Zebra takes you away, too, in a positive way—our incredibly creative and dedicated team has given their best to the edition. Please enjoy, follow us online and on social media, and patronize our advertisers and sponsors—without whom, we’d be lost.
