Most supers I know have at least one special spot on their properties that is their quiet place. It usually has a nice view, is set apart from the line of play, and generally brings with it a sense of peace. I happen to have more than a few spots like that (I like to pause often) and I recently found myself in one of the more unique spots reflecting on this post. The spot I speak of is actually on an adjacent property to the golf course, but is used to be part of our operation.

This property used to be a golf academy run by a local college and then run by Fox Meadow. It housed a double ended range, multiple practice greens and bunkers. The maintenance of this facility was managed by our turf department and for years the quality of this academy matched that of the golf course. 

As I sat quietly watching the fescue waving in the breeze, the wildflowers buzzing with pollinators, and new trees popping up everywhere I couldn’t help but cast my mind back to a time when the conditioning of this property mattered so much. The manicured mowing lines, the moisture management, the fertility scheduling, and divot repair… it all seemed so vitally important at the time. And now as the property lays fallow and nature has begun the process of reclamation, the very nature of impermanence came into sharp focus. 

...now as the property lays fallow and nature has begun the process of reclamation, the very nature of impermanence came into sharp focus. 

We curate our golf courses but for a moment in time. Basically, every cultural practice, input, and project we undertake is but for a moment. But often times they are changing (think mowing) as soon as we complete the task.  It may seem difficult to contemplate when we are so caught up in managing so very many things, that these properties won’t be golf courses forever. Our stewardship is but a blip in time and eventually these places will transition to something else entirely. 

This realization is not meant to have us throw in the towel and and leave the greens unmowed tomorrow.  On the contrary, this realization can serve to widen our perspective and develop a deeper appreciation of the journey we are all on together. Our daily processes have a wider importance than we may see on the surface. 

We are curators of moments. Each mowing line, rake furrow, crisp hole and smooth surface presents an opportunity for our golfers to experience one of these moments. It may be a one of joy, sorrow, comradery, or even one of deep connection with their natural surroundings. This collection of moments brings folks a deep sense of appreciation for the game they love. 

The moments we experience maintaining our properties are no less important. As we train our teams and strive to build a culture that promotes well being and a sense of community, we are also creating moments. These opportunities to share life experiences, teach valuable lessons and learn from one another serve to strengthen the fabric of what it means to live well in this world. 
But like all things in this world, these moments do not last. This truth in no way diminishes their importance, but rather serves to bring us fully into presence and appreciation of how special they are. When we focus on the moments that matter and are not constantly caught up in the planning, strategizing, and worrying we come closer to finding a sense of place in it all. 

These opportunities to share life experiences, teach valuable lessons and learn from one another serve to strengthen the fabric of what it means to live well in this world. 

So next time you pause and sit awhile in your quiet place, open yourself to the nature of this truth. Reflect on the notion that the grandeur of what lays before you is in a constant state of transition and eventually will become something else entirely. Pause and allow this realization to settle in. Open yourself to a sense of gratitude for your time of stewardship and the infinite number of chances you’ve had to create moments that matter. 

Thanks for reading.