Tag Archives: golf

grace and the warm-ups…a live comedic event (yesterday)

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well, golfing badly yesterday was a blast…and i learned a couple of lessons, too. 1) trying to “be the ball” is not as effective or easy to implement as a simple “keep your eye on the ball” command. 2) it’s very disconcerting to unexpectedly dump your sordid history into a blog and make it public (see yesterday’s post if you must…or trust my assertion that i’ve hurt enough in one lifetime to offer a word or two of comfort). 3) it’s more disconcerting to realize that you can no longer pick up a sporting good and expect your body to function well when you do it as infrequently as i do. (it seemed to function alright…oh, how the pain lies in wait, conspiring with my alarm clock for a dastardly a.m. ambush.) 4) jumping from a swing into playground wood chips while wearing flip flops is sketchy at best, and a great opportunity to test your falling and rolling skills. (i still GOT ’em!)

so gimpy mcgracefulpants over here has an old person’s knee this morning, painfully tight hips and the shortest hamstrings i’ve had since my growth spurt. i guess it’s time to slow it down a little and prepare my body for all of this fun. i’m back to that balance thing…regular exercise has to fit on the beam somewhere, the kind of exercise that strengthens the core, loosens a low back and builds yet more capacity and capability in a heart so filled with gladness. (incidentally, i now have empirical evidence that gladness is not the same as oxygen.)

as with anything risky, it’s not very smart to assume that your body or mind will know what to do, or when to do it, without some warm-ups, without practice, without building up the strength you’ll need to finish with a flourish and a fan club…or if flourish and fan clubs aren’t your thing, how about simply finishing without major performance problems and pain?

i’m up early this morning, meeting some deadlines, but more importantly, putting in some practice at risky things. i’m preparing myself for life’s dangerous delights like writing my heart out and swinging things at balls (i’m still talking about sporting goods in case you’re confused). i’m sore, things hurt, and i’ve identified some weak spots…but how much fun am i having doing this? so much that it has to be worth the risk and the effort of trying, and worth the work it will take to live, Love and play as fluently as i imagine i can.

if i had a hot tub, i’d be in it. i do well in hot water and i have empirical evidence to support that…though i’d prefer the literal over the figurative this morning. so as i literally limp through this day, and a nice hot shower, i will figuratively warm my heart and these pages, and try again to beam with better balance…one day, one strain, one pain (in the ass) at a time.

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tee up the blues….live it, sing it, ping it

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wow. i’m so excited about the 96% humidity outside. it should feel like a good ol’ mississippi morning out there, though mississippi is 800 miles away. and at the risk of sounding rather bourgeois, i will admit that i will be golfing really badly in this humidity and sun later this afternoon. that would be cart golfing…because i am of the lazy bourgeoisie if i am of them at all.

i think the last time i golfed (badly) might have been that dreamy, foggy, magical day when i got engaged in the Pali mountains of Oahu. that means it’s been probably 7 years since i set my barely used spikes on the links. my shiny golf bag will need a dusting. i’ve golfed about a half dozen times in my life, but i liked it. so i will do it again and channel my inner tiger…that would be Tigger, not Tiger W. (hell, i’d take Tony the Tiger over a meeting with Mr. Woods any day…even a Tony mascot in a fur costume…and my friends all know how i feel about mascots <shudder>). i’m actually hoping i won’t be reminded of Tiger too much, or see any Schwarzeneggers meeting up for a tee time with any Edwardses…real or figurative. the likelihood that anyone from those families would end up at my local county 9-hole practice course i realize is quite absurd, but my brain is great at absurd…my heart might even be better…and fear takes the gold everytime.

so what the hell am i alluding to? i suppose i can’t be this vague and honest at the same time. i’m talking about golfing badly and taking back another little piece of my premarital life. i will claim it for my Self, as part of the true and outrageous life i have in front of me. i’ve read that blogs like mine should be intimate. i’ve read and been told by hemingway and dear friends to, “write hard about what hurts.” so in the interest of Being my most outrageous, honest Self, and maybe helping a few people Be theirs, i will share with you something hard that hurts.

i’m barely divorced. ug. that word. i’m not a “put my dirty laundry on the web” kind of person, but i’ve mentioned in several posts now references to my world falling apart, nay, even exploding…(though maybe imploding would be more appropriate given the amount of weight i felt…like a collapsing star, the crushing pressure in my chest…when all i thought i knew came crashing down on top of me one december saturday in 2009). the quick and dirty version is couched in paragraph two of this posting. i’m a trendsetter for sure, as evidenced by the recent strut down society’s catwalk, of marriages run aground by…hmmm…let’s call it virility + fertility. yes…my daughter has a half-sister out there, not much younger than she….most specifically not so much younger that she could have been conceived at any time other than when i was still quite swollen with my first and only pregnancy. so my ex did it first, before it was popular…though i know it is an age old tale…he then endured months of the non-stop, 24/7 News Cycle of Gossip while keeping his own secrets buried deep, only bubbling to the surface as nerves and some delusions about how this kind of situation might be resolved without (me) (ab)using golf clubs (clearly, not telling me was his best stab at a starting point).

i won’t delve too deeply into details, there are so many. but i will offer that he’s not an all-bad guy, that he’s working really hard to turn his life into something admirable and that he’s a great father (“good thing, ” i think sarcastically to myself…and to you, my gentle reader). so i’m here, writing my heart out, and turning my life back into something i admire and Love. part of Being outrageously me is acknowledging the fires that tempered my soul, steeled my heart, and stoked my passions only after almost burning the whole place down.

i have no grand vision of joining the LGPA one day (“good thing, ” i think sarcastically to myself…and to you, my gentle reader). i simply want to take my smiles and healing heart out in the sun to burn off some calories and sweat, and to re-up on some blood and tears lost in recent years past. i put all of this out here because i promised to make an example of myself on these pages, and my Self screams at me to let the world know how grand life can be, even after pain and grief unimaginable to those who’ve not walked through infidelity and the crushing financial implications of divorce and extracurricular child-rearing. i opted out of the latter obligation, but paid a lot for the trust i’d once given freely. still, i’m here, and not just here but ALIVE.  i carry some heaviness in my heart still, but it is illuminated by the light in my soul and by the Love of amazing people around me. heaviness, grief and disappointment are part of living, incalculable, unpredictable, inescapable. that’s what makes the Blues so blue and yet so satisfying…at least to me. i know…and feel…that sorrow is part of a bluesy, beautiful life…and today i happily accept the one i’m living.

Blues a healer, healer, all over the world…It healed me, it can heal you – John Lee Hooker