II played at golf yesterday at a beautiful course near Waynesville, NC. There were lots of streams, water hazards, elevations, and great views of the mountains. There were several holes on the back nine especially where you couldn’t see the green or the flag. But on one of the holes, I managed to get up to the edge of the green with an uncharacteristically good shot. I knew that as I started to walk up to my ball that all I needed was my putter. As I got closer, I heard myself complaining: “I can’t putt!”   “That should be the title of your next blog,” Jim announced. So, here we go. “I can’t putt” really meant that I misjudged the place where the ball landed. I can’t putt meant I was beating up on myself just a little. I can’t putt meant I was feeling stupid. Golf is good for that.

If the closest you come to liking golf is the soft velvety voices of the announcers narrating the golf matches on the weekends; their mellow tones a perfect sedative and almost always a guarantee for a good nap, then I thank you for reading this far. And this blog isn’t about golf or the things we can’t do. It is about humility and resolve; it is about being willing to fail before you succeed and enjoying the process because that is what life is. There’s no such thing as perfect.

There is almost. There is so much that is out of our control. Being human is living with limits. Not to get maudlin but we all have a hard end to our strivings. That limit looms over all we do even if we are not conscious of it at every minute. So we fill our days with things that we hope will make us healthier, happier, smarter, richer, more proficient, more more more. And we fill our lives with possessions that we think we need to live a rewarding life.

I can putt by the way. I just can’t putt perfectly and consistently. I think perfection and consistency are overrated. I think there are great lessons to be learned and a lot of laughter and joy to be discovered when the ball rims the cup. It sort of depends on your approach to the game. My religious or spiritual truth does not call me to flawlessness. It invites me to try, to strive, to struggle with whatever morning brings and start each day with gratitude that this life is overflowing with blessings.

But enough. I am feeling so privileged – like in White Privilege – but that’s a different blog. One day ……..