Golf and The Game of Life
An Interview with Anne Kinsman Fisher
By William Jarrett

William Jarrett:
Your bookThe Masters of The Spirit explains how golf is an excellent metaphor for life. What did you mean by that?

Anne Kinsman Fisher:
Adlai Stevenson once said, "Some of us worship in churches, some in synagogues, some on golf courses." I agree. In many places, I describe the golf course as a "cathedral of green." What I mean is that spirituality is found in many places, as often outside the church as within it. Prayer and worship is, after all, a quiet reflection and an inner listening. The qualities you develop on the golf course are inherently spiritual: a reflection, an inner jouney, a knowing of self -- and through that knowing of self -- a knowing of God. The great golfer Bobby Jones said, "90% of golf is between the ears." So it is with prayer. It's not where you're at. It's what's happening inside of you. Early Christian mystics such as Francis of Assisi and Teresa of Avila described their prayer as a direct, inner knowing of God. If you listen to people talking about their greatest golf rounds, they could, also, be talking about spiritual experience: a sense of sureness, a confidence, being led by a higher power, and a knowing that even if things go wrong that it's okay. It is the last feeling that I call chaos. Life is a cycle of birth and rebirth, of destruction and creation. One of my favorite Scripture passages is when Jesus says that man must be born again. In my opinion, this means to tear down all that is not of the spirit and to rebuild. The tearing down, though, is painful. In my own life, I went through a very painful time four years ago: the death of my younger brother and, at the same time, the loss of my business. It was incredibly painful. And yet, looking back on it, in the midst of that chaos, something new was being born. My writing. Those experiences were the catalyst that forced me to look inward, to reorder my priorities in life, and to align myself more with Spirit. My life was born again, in a sense. In this cycle of destruction and creation, the tearing down comes first. It's easy to get scared and worried and to try and stop the process -- whether in golf or in life. To explain this in my book, I use 1920s-era golfer Walter Hagen as the archetype. He was notorious for his wild shots, his saves, and his eventual victories. He always said that his wildness -- his chaos -- gave him a different view of the pin. Taking that metaphor to life, prayer -- a knowing of God and serenity with life -- these things do not develop in a straight line. Sometimes, God gives us twists and turns so that we can see things -- the pin -- from a different angle. It is easy to get mired in the chaos, because it IS painful. But, not everything that we label as 'bad' is always bad. This is what I mean by chaos.

WJ: If "90% of golf is between the ears," how come it is that the physical 10% is so challenging? Why are we so focused on that 10%?

AKF:To use Bobby Jones's formula that golf is 90% mental and 10% physical, Gary Player used his 90% of mental and spiritual focus to provide him with the 10% of physical ability that he needed. There was no question in my mind about the "secret" of great golfer Gary Player. He is the archetype of unity: the body-spirit connection. By all accounts, Player didn't have what it takes to be a great golfer. His putting was okay, but not great. His driving was okay, but a little short. His iron play was adequate, but nothing outstanding. Add to that the limits of his small physical size (he's only 5'7" tall) and no one thought he'd make it as a golfer. Jack Nicklaus once said of Player: "There was nothing really exceptional about Gary's game, except one thing: his desire to win. I've seen him win tournaments you thought there was just no way he could win, just do it on pure guts. Gary as much as anyone I ever saw had that thing inside of him that champions have." The physical is where the outcome is. To me, this goes to the heart of spiritual practice and why some prayers seemingly aren't answered. There's a lovely joke about a man who prayed to win the lottery. "Please, God, help me win the lottery." Over and over he prayed, and each week, someone else won. Finally, God got frustrated and answered back: "Buy a ticket!" We have to help God out. We are the receptacle for spirit. It's easy to say that our body is a temple, but in the most practical of terms, we are literally the conduit for God to work through us. If our body is not in alignment with our spirit -- if we're hungry, if we don't take care of ourselves, if we're overtired or in poor physical condition -- the connections get mucked up. I like what's happening in the field of medicine. Doctors are coming to realize that there is a spirit, as well as a body, to consider, and that any type of medical treatment needs to involve both. For those of us dedicated to spiritual practice, it's important to remember the reverse. We can use the body to heal the spirit. These things work in tandem. To me, that's what's wonderful about golf: it combines the physical and spiritual dimensions and lets you play from each one.

WJ:How can one develop integrity from golf?

AKF:Golf is, I believe, the best example of integrity in action. In life, there are so many little ways that you can cheat. You can cut corners at your job, often times in ways that no one but you will ever know. You can complete a task, not really caring if it's completed correctly, but just going through the motions to get it done. There are many shades of cheating -- from big whopper lies to tiny omissions of truth. The entire spectrum makes up our personal integrity. Integrity is not just whether we will abstain from doing the one, big clearly wrong thing -- like stealing money -- but how we react to all the little problems life presents us. Integrity is built in the details. In terms of golf, Bobby Jones explained it best when he said, "When you cheat in golf, the only person you're cheating is yourself." In golf, integrity is calling a penalty on yourself when it's warranted. It's playing the ball where it lies, rather than taking a mulligan. (For nongolfers, a mulligan being a "free" shot that some golfers take). If they hit their first shot poorly, for example, they will replay it -- counting only the second, better shot This translates precisly to life. In life, we don't get a chance to take a mulligan. We can't erase certain 'strokes' just because we don't like the outcome. We have to play the ball as it lies. Golf gives us a chance to practice living by our principles. And, when you build integrity, it carries over into every aspect of your life. What you learn in the smaller world of the golf course, you take off the course into the greater realm of your life. Everything you learn in golf carries forward directly to the outside world. Calling a penalty on yourself, in the real world, is knowing when your actions are wrong and taking steps to correct them. Counting your score accurately means judging yourself honestly -- and moving forward from that point. Integrity is learning about a deeper gratification -- a soul-level fulfillment, if you will. Integrity is doing what is in the highest good, not just what you might personally want. It's calling a penalty on yourself when it's warranted. It's playing the ball as it lies, even when it would be easier (and might even go unnoticed) for you to kick it out onto the fairway again. It's counting all your strokes and take pride in your final score, no matter what it is.

WJ: As an observer and participant in the world of golf, I know that almost all golfers play golf purely out of love. How is it that this game can bring out so much emotion?

AKF: There is so much in life that can move us: poetry, beauty, compassion, nature. Within each of these 'ideas' is a piece of God. With our limited human vocabulary, no single word can describe Him; but each idea contains a piece of Him. This is why, I believe, we react instinctively and deeply to beauty or to truth when we see it. It reaches into a deep part of our soul and tells us, "Yes, this is God." We recognize Him - in one of His many forms - and it moves us in a deep and still way. Golf moves us for precisely the same reason. It combines the best of man and nature -- and thus, the best of our creator. When we play golf, we are in the midst of trees and grass, rough and green. We are also in the midst of ourselves. We can play from the very best parts of ourselves, or from the worst. In this way, the very human game of golf has the potential to give us a glimpse of the divine. There is something extraordinarily poetic about the flight of a beautiful drive, and something of heartbreaking beauty in a long putt which curves directly toward its target and gently drops into the cup with a "plunk." This type of beauty is piece of the divine as surely as the heavenly lilt of a church choir or the magnificence of a cathedral are earthly symbols of God. We cannot truly know God, for He is beyond description - so much more than we can comprehend. We can only know God in pieces, in the tiny drops of water that give us a clue what the ocean is like. To me, golf contains so many pieces of God. There is beauty, truth, goodness, and - most importantly - love. Love is like God. It is difficult to define, so much larger and more magnificent than our language can adequately describe. Love of golf, of self, of fellow man - these are all pieces of the equation. Each one helps you to understand the whole. Love is everywhere. It is the soar of emotion that pulses through a golfer's heart. It is the energy that flows through a mother and child. It is romantic spark between lovers. It is the energy that propels you to success when you love your work. Love is meant to be everywhere and in every corner of your life. In Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, he writes, "To love is to know the face of God." To apply this metaphor to golf is perhaps simplistic, but it is true nonetheless. When you love - whether it be the game of golf, your romantic partner, your family, or your work - it is to know the face of God.

Anne Kinsman Fisher has had a passion for golf ever since she was a little girl on the golf course with her father. She is the author ofThe Legend of Tommy Morris in which the metaphysical powers of love are revealed through the game of golf by a historical nineteenth-century Scottish golfing champion.