START AGAIN MONDAY

Welcome to Start Again Mondays

Alrighty…

Start again

Something I’m pondering

Once upon a time

I was helping a golfer

He was about to fly overseas to represent Australia in a big tournament in Canada

After hearing him talk about about the competition, the politics of golf, and all the things out of his control

I asked him what he wanted

He spent the next hour telling me what he didn’t want

Quite normal

We are human beings

Designed to survive 

Always trying to protect ourselves from danger (both real and perceived)

He didn’t want to do badly 

He didn’t want to land in the bunkers

He didn’t want to look stupid 

But most of all, he didn’t want to hit a crowd member as he teed off

It sounded pretty exhausting

The infinite possibilities of things he didn’t want

So I asked him again

“What do you want?”

He got the gist, realising he was focussing on all his past frustrations and future anxieties 

We began talking about the best experiences he’d had 

The times when he felt proudest of his performance

The times he felt the most energised

The times when he felt in flow

He told me about what it was like to play golf when he was a kid

The play, the freedom, the being in nature, the connection, the clarity, the clean and easy swing, the focus, the joyful obsession

Then he went quiet

He was clicking into something

He looked up at me with an expression like a toddler

Carefree, present, calm, joyful, easy

And with a smile, he said

“Mike, I just wanna put the fuckin ball in the hole”

Quote I’m considering

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defence of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realise, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.

From the end of the film Ratatouille 

Or, if you would rather have Peter O’Toole read it to you then:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JPOoFkrh94&feature=emb_title

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