We are now a couple of weeks removed from the 2016 edition of the US Open golf tournament. Hopefully John Zimmers and his crew got some much needed rest, and the USGA has slinked back to their lair to plot their next revenge against Dustin Johnson (I'm not saying the word conspiracy, but you know)

After the dust of a Major settles and we have moved on to our next set of tweets showing  a dozen fairway mowers cutting all at once and balls being dropped into 10" rough, what are we to do with ourselves? Well, we could start by reading Mr. Wilber's brilliant soliloquy concerning the reality of Major golf events:  The Reality of the US Open Golf Championship Has Nothing To Do With The Reality of Golf, (please read it really even if you don't come back to finish this post, just read it). And if Dave's sobering words are not enough we could move to deeper reflection.

As I sat and studied Oakmont during the course of the week, one word kept pecking at my brain: vision. Not the kind the USGA uses, but rather the vision that moved Henry C. and William C. Fownes to build the most difficult golf course in North America. It was an idea which was so simple, yet profound enough to produce arguably the most iconic golf course in the United States. Even though the vision was lost for a time, its aura was strong enough to power a bold restoration that would make even Randy Wilson weak in the knees (insert audio of chain saw here).

Whether you agree with the notion of building and maintaining the most difficult test of golf in the world is irrelevant. The fact is the people who tend and play on the property each day actually revel in the fact that it is ridiculously hard. Of course the rough is deep, the fairways narrow, and the greens maintained to obscene standards; its Oakmont after all. It is the Fownes' original vision which fuels this ideal, and it has proven to be an immensely powerful one.

The strength of this vision got me thinking about the inherent value of a sustaining personal vision. We have all seen what can happen when a story goes awry. If we take a wider view and look at cultural phenomena like nationhood or religion, we can see countless examples of visions which have taken wrong turns. Unfortunately, the power of a story does not always take into account whether it should have been told in the first place.

Our own personal stories can also take unfortunate turns. Destructive habits, addictions, and the general turmoil with which life presents us can serve to derail any of us. What if we had a personal vision which was as strong as the original intent for Oakmont? What if we had the positive intention to live our lives in the best way possible and the intention to back it up? Even if we got lost in a forest of misguided tree plantings, we could still find our way back to this intention. It might take a good deal of time and hard work (insert cutting trees in the dark of nightpowerful metaphor), but the strength of this vision could bring us back to a place of peace.

Our personal vision need not be as extreme as the church pew bunkers. It doesn't need to be as unique as the perennial Poa that Mr. Zimmers and Co. tend. It simply needs to be our own. A story which is open and flexible, yet steadfast in its core message, can serve as an anchor for all your most important life decisions and also be a beacon to others in their time of need. Hopefully through the thunderstorms, the triple cut & rolls, and the foolishness of those who make up the rules, we can look at our story and say that it was enough.