For much of my life, I thought others had to come before me.
To be available.
To meet expectations.
Not to disappoint.
To be useful.
These intentions are admirable.
But they sometimes conceal a trap.
By trying to be there for everyone, we eventually stop being truly present for ourselves.
Golf made me discover a very simple idea.
When someone says:
“I can’t, I have golf.”
One might think she is choosing golf over others.
I believe she is primarily choosing to preserve an essential space.
A space where she breathes.
Where she walks.
Where she finds silence again.
Where she returns to herself.
And I deeply believe that these moments do not distance us from others.
They allow us to reconnect with them more fully.
I believe we often confuse the two.
We pit time for ourselves against time for others.
As if we had to choose.
And yet, I have often observed the opposite.
People who know how to preserve a few spaces for themselves are often also the ones who know how to be fully present when they are reunited with others.
They listen more.
They are more available.
More patient.
More serene.
As if the time they had given themselves then became a gift offered to those around them.
There’s an image that often comes back to me.
Imagine a mountain spring.
If it stops being fed, it eventually runs dry.
We are like this spring.
We need those moments when we gently recharge what keeps us going.
For others, it will be golf.
For some, it’s a book.
A walk.
The garden.
Painting.
The mountains.
Silence.
Whatever form it takes.
What matters is having a place where we can catch our breath.
I believe our era often encourages us to fill every minute.
To be productive.
Available.
Connected.
As if slowing down were almost a sin.
And yet...
The most beautiful ideas rarely emerge amid agitation.
They appear when the noise fades away.
When we walk.
When we take in the view.
When we finally accept that we need do nothing other than be fully present.
Maybe that's why Je Peux Pas J'ai Golf resonates with me so deeply.
Because beyond the smile it brings, this phrase ultimately says something very simple:
Today, I am taking care of what allows me to feel fully alive.
And I don't believe that makes it selfish.
I believe it is a responsibility.
Because it is difficult to offer others a peaceful presence when you have forgotten yourself for too long.
I don't know whether golf makes people happier.
But I believe it sometimes offers them something precious.
A pause.
A space where time slows down.
A moment when we stop being defined solely by our responsibilities.
And I believe we all need these moments to breathe.
Not to escape life.
But so you can return to it more fully.
Continue the Journal: Pleasure before performance