Let it go, let it go, let it go

June 10, 2004

Dear Ken,

As a golfer, my self-image is that at age 53 I have not yet reached my potential. I read books and magazines hoping to grasp Ben Hogan's secret technique and Jack Nicklaus' advice. Then I go to the driving range and try them out.

The first time I ever saw my swing on videotape was shocking. I swing like that? I had thought my swing was OK.

I've got a good golf swing is just one of many stories we tell ourselves.

The person whose self-image is "victim" views everything through that peculiar looking glass. Every unlucky bounce of the golf ball is justification that the world has your number. The hero's view is very different but no less inhibiting. He has to try the shot nobody else will dare. He fails nobly.

Not so noble is the person who can't forgive himself for making a mistake, so he keeps on making more.

How life-like golf is.

In his book "The Cosmic Laws of Golf (And Everything Else)," Printer Bowler writes: "The profound wisdom and power behind these three magic words -- Let It Go -- have cured more illnesses, restored more relationships and inspired more birdies than all other means and methods on this planet."

DC sometimes relives irritations days and weeks after they occurred. "Let it go," I respond when she does.

She'll frown and recount another moment of the episode that was even worse -- so bad she wants to live it all over again.

Let it go, I plead.

I, the self-improvement junkie, have a different problem. The astonishingly altruistic owner of a golf shop recently convinced me to invest in a better swing instead of a new driver. He didn't know what he was getting me into.

Now whenever I swing I'm trying to remember to turn my left shoulder behind the ball, to supinate -- or is it pronate? -- my left wrist like Hogan at the top of my backswing, and to keep my hands in front of the clubhead at impact, just like Golf Digest says. I know this Post-It approach ultimately doesn't work.

Let it go is the secret of golf and everything else.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.