How one tournament goal turned into something much deeper

I left home at 20 with nothing - no job, no money, no fallback plan. Just a checklist of dreams I hoped to turn into reality. And over the years, I did it. I checked off every single one. A job. A place to live. Food on the table. A car. Health insurance. A family. A career.

But surprise, surprise - the list didn’t end. It grew.

Now the checkboxes have new names: more time with my parents. The freedom to take a walk at sunset. Building a company that serves my employees and clients with integrity. Things that don’t show up in bank accounts. Things I can’t just earn.

“We are always getting ready to live, but never living.”

• Ralph Waldo Emerson

So what are we chasing? And where, exactly, are we going?

A few days ago, I teed it up in my second ever golf tournament. This one was on my home course - a place I know like an old friend. It's also where I first swung a golf club five years ago and carded a 128 on what I optimistically called a "practice round."

This time, the goal was clear: break 90 under pressure.

I’d played the course well in casual rounds. But tournament golf is a different beast. The OB stakes look taller. The fairways feel narrower. Every shot counts. That nervous energy shows up whether you like it or not.

But this time, I was ready for it.

Standing on the first tee, I didn’t try to fight the nerves. Instead, I embraced them. That pounding in my chest? That wasn’t fear. That was activation. Like a NASCAR engine revving just before the race. Start your engines. It meant I cared. It meant I was alive. And that energy helped me commit.

There was another mantra I carried with me that day:

You can’t control the game. But you can influence it.

I couldn’t control the wind, the bounce, the bad breaks. But I could influence my routine, my club selection, my strategy. I could choose calm over chaos. Just like in life - where control is often a myth, but presence and preparation are very real.

The round itself? Not perfect. But beautiful.

I saved par on hole 4 with one of the best 7-irons I’ve hit in a while - a smooth draw from 160 yards to 20 feet below the hole. I navigated the tight OB-laced 18th with deliberate shot choices and finished with a textbook par. I made a birdie on a brutally tough hole. I climbed out of bunkers, recovered from a shanked wedge, and yes - I even four-putted one green.

But none of that unraveled me. Because I wasn’t chasing perfection. I was chasing progress.

Final score: 87.

I didn’t just break 90. I broke a mental barrier on the very course that once broke me.

So now what?

Now, I want to break 85. I want to shoot my handicap. I want to finish a round even NET. Because that’s how it goes - the list always grows.

I don’t know if we ever arrive. In golf, or in life. Maybe we’re not supposed to.

So I’ll keep showing up, keep hitting the ball, and keep learning.

Not because I’ve arrived - but because maybe that’s the whole point.

Golf has taught me how to keep going. Not toward arrival - but into growth, into presence, into play.

The pursuit might not end. But I can learn to love the round I’m playing.