Sometimes I stop and shake my head at how addictive golf can be—swinging the club just right, hoping to strike the ball cleanly, and feeling both the ball and your heart soar.
I like golf.
But when I used to play, it came with a cost.
A full day was required: driving to the course, arriving at the right tee time, playing for hours, then heading home replaying that one great shot in your head. It was fun. There were good conversations, a few laughs, and moments worth remembering. Still, golf demanded more time than I was willing to give.
At the time, my priorities were clear—family, work (often two jobs), and study toward my Masters and PhD. Golf didn’t really support those priorities.
So I gave it up.
Not because I didn’t enjoy it—but because it didn’t fit.
Now, things are a bit different.
I’m working part-time. Formal study is done. I have more space in my days. And instead of jumping into the car, I grab a club, step outside, and knock a few balls around our five acres.
No tee times.
No pressure.
Just a few swings, some fresh air, and the simple pleasure of occasionally hitting a surprisingly decent shot.
It’s quick. It’s fun and I confess, it feels a little surreal.
I’m not taking it seriously. I’m only competing with myself, purely for the enjoyment of it. Ten minutes or half an hour is plenty. Enough to smile, reset, and move on with the day.
Golf still isn’t a high priority—but I do have more time now. There’s a golf course less than three minutes away. Maybe I’ll head down there one day when priorities shift again.
In the meantime, I’m quite happy just taking a few swings around the yard.
Being Arthur 