The Score That Matters: Lessons From the Dojo

I entered my first golf tournament in quite some time.

Almost immediately, I noticed my ego wake up.

“What if I shoot a terrible score?”

“What if I make a 10 on a hole?”

“What happens to my handicap?”

The funny thing is, I thought I had already let go of those questions.

I hadn’t.

Remember What Matters Most

A few days later I met with my mentor. I brought my excitement, my fears, and my plans for the tournament. Somewhere during that conversation, everything became surprisingly simple.

She asked me to remember what I actually care about.

Not golf.

Not score.

Not handicap.

Presence.

My mentor gently reminded me my deepest passion is Inner Power and Presence.

Golf is simply the platform through which I get to practice and embody it.

That realization changed something inside of me.

Score Still Matters

For a while, I found myself saying, “Score doesn’t matter.”

But the more I sat with that statement, the less true it felt.

Of course score matters.

I love golf.

I love practicing.

I love refining my swing.

I enjoy the challenge of seeing how well I can play.

Pretending otherwise would simply be another form of denial.

What has changed isn’t that score no longer matters.

It’s that score no longer gets to define me.

Today, my intention is different.

I want to shoot the lowest score I possibly can, while remaining rooted in Presence.

If chasing a score pulls me away from Presence, then I’ve forgotten why I’m there.

But if I can stay connected to the quiet joy of my soul while giving my very best effort, then something much deeper is happening than a good round of golf.

The Freedom of Letting Go

A few days ago I played eighteen holes by myself.

The golfers I was supposed to be paired with never showed up.

After waiting a few minutes, I teed off alone.

I started the round keeping score for my handicap until I realized I couldn’t post a score anyway because I was playing by myself.

So I stopped keeping score.

I played two balls from many of the tees.

One draw.

One fade.

I experimented.

I observed.

I stayed with my pre-shot routine.

Something unexpected happened.

Once I let go of protecting a number, I became freer.

My attention softened.

My curiosity grew.

I actually struck the ball better.

That round reminded me of something I had forgotten.

When I am fully present, I genuinely love the practice.

Falling in Love with the Practice

A few days later I spent nearly three hours on the driving range.

I had planned to stay for ninety minutes.

Time disappeared.

There were moments of frustration.

There were mechanical discoveries.

There were swings that made no sense.

There were swings that felt effortless.

Yet through it all, I realized something that surprised me.

I loved every minute of it.

Not because I was hitting perfect shots.

Because I was learning.

Because I was present.

Because I wasn’t trying to become someone else.

That may be the greatest gift golf has given me.

Not a lower handicap.

Not a better swing.

A different relationship with myself.

Living the Lesson

In my book, Presence Golf: A Sacred Path to Self-Mastery, I wrote these words long before I truly understood them:

“The Spiritual Athlete is motivated by the quiet joy of living and playing from the soul. He lives in balance, surrenders outcomes, and seeks the highest victory — not over others, but over himself. This is the sacred path of Self-mastery. This is Presence Golf.”

Those words feel different now.

They are no longer something I hope to teach.

They are something I am trying to live.

So as I prepare for my next tournament, my focus isn’t on protecting my handicap or proving myself.

My focus is much simpler.

To play the best golf I can while staying rooted in Presence.

That is the score I want to carry with me, long after the final putt drops.

What score are you allowing to define you that was never meant to?