Every now and again things don’t really work out as planned. Despite all our scheduling and agronomic programs, our focus on “plant defenses”, or our finely tuned, season long predictions…things still may fall apart. It could be as a result of a weather related event, a major shift in club politics, a supply chain meltdown or even a global pandemic. No matter the cause, we are left to scramble and scrape our way back into some semblance of control.

It’s said that our ability to respond with grace and wisdom in such moments is the variable that separates the good supers from the truly great ones. It’s the thing that allows our teams to trust that they are part of something bigger than themselves. Over the course of a career honing the ability to respond instead of reacting irrationally allows us to create a career that matters. 

Outside the ropes of the golf courses we manage, we have our lives as plain, old human beings. We can plan, we can exercise, and we can eat well and meditate and we can try to reduce our stress and get enough sleep... and still difficulties arise. In the immortal words of wrestler Hulk Hogan, we can even say our prayers and eat our vitamins… but life still offers no guarantees.

We can plan, we can exercise, and we can eat well and meditate and we can try to reduce our stress and get enough sleep... and still difficulties arise.

What happens when we run into the inevitable, major disruptions that accompany this life? How do we choose to respond to loss, grief, or illness? Do we react irrationally or are we able to step back and take a larger view of the situation? How we respond to major disruptions has a large impact on how much we suffer overall. The question is do we react and add to the suffering? Or do we employ mindfulness and respond with a broader perspective? 

Over the last few months, my life has taken one such turn. Back in mid-December of 2024, I took a seizure. It wasn’t a new phenomenon for me (I have had them in various forms a few times over the past 30 years), but unfortunately I was never  properly diagnosed with epilepsy until recently and therefore my illness wasn’t managed very well by some of my doctors. To say that the return of new and former types of seizure activity has been a major disruption in my life and that of my family would be an understatement.

I would like to share some of the things that I have noticed and thought about over the past number of months:

• Having epilepsy sucks. I won’t sugar coat it. Making your way through the day wondering if you are going to have a seizure is not much fun. But over time I have learned to better listen to my body and its cues for rest.
   
• While it’s been crappy a lot of the time, it has also been vitally important to be mindful of the times that I feel good. This awareness has allowed me to tune into the symptoms in a deeper way and it also shows me that nothing is permanent. This moment to moment awareness is incredibly important with chronic illness because our minds can make the suffering static and relentless if we aren’t careful... when in truth there are times of less suffering and times of more. This also helps us navigate the negativity bias built into our brains. If we are mindful and can see breaks in our suffering then we can train ourselves to give some extra weight to the good, rather than just being velcro for the hardships.
   
• My life has slowed to a crawl. For someone who is used to having a great deal of energy to devote to my work life, this has been difficult. My creative spark and drive to do things has all but evaporated. It’s been a big adjustment. But I also know that it’s all temporary. It is a moment that too shall pass and I will adjust to my new seizure medications and emerge with a new perspective on life… and that’s just fine.
   
• I have fully embraced that power of rest. Admittedly, I haven’t had a great relationship with rest during my life, but in this case I really didn’t have much choice. It has been literally foisted upon me. Learning to continue breathing during the times when I am less able to show up for my life has been a major adjustment. It’s been a wonderful lesson in learning to “let go” and it’s given my body and mind the necessary space for healing.

  It’s been a wonderful lesson in learning to “let go” and it’s given my body and mind the necessary space for healing.

• I have paused long enough to take a look at my life outside of the workplace and realize that I am indeed loved. This may not sound like much, but it’s something that many of us humans who have been devoted to our “hustle and grind” culture rarely do. The love and support I have received from my family and friends have been overwhelming. The outpouring of support has left me fully appreciating how blessed I am, and it has also allowed me to more deeply recognize and extend empathy and compassion to all those going through illness without such support systems.
   
• Reflection. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve had lots of time for rest and reflection over the past few months. This in and of itself has been a blessing. I have endeavoured to channel my quiet time into meditation and inner work and it has proven to be very fruitful. I have reached levels of inner honesty that I wouldn’t have been able to access without this pause. (But full disclosure, I have also watched a great deal of Netflix).
   
• Major disruptions in life have a way of stripping us down to the bare metal. Illness is particularly adept at tearing away the armouring and all the masks we wear on a daily basis. The inner vulnerability can be overwhelming by times. If you are someone who is used to keeping stuff inside and not sharing emotions well (read between the lines here) this vulnerability can feel very uncomfortable. But while it’s definitely been trying by times, I have instead chosen to work with this vulnerability in a more honest and welcoming way than I ever have before in my years of mindfulness practice. And — spoiler alert — it truly makes everything easier.

  Illness is particularly adept at tearing away the armouring and all the masks we wear on a daily basis.

• Early on in this journey I made a decision. I made a conscious internal decision to the best of my current ability to accept and allow what was happening instead of fighting it. I know that in many cases people who face illness chose to adopt the stance of a warrior, and subsequently choose to “battle” their disease. I offer no judgement in that regard and I’m sure that in many cases the warrior mentality has given people the courage and strength to persevere.  But I am choosing an alternate path. I am choosing to accept and learn as much as I can from the condition. When our bodies are in a state of “dis-ease” there is knowledge to be gained… wisdom that will inform how I live my life on many levels as I move forward. It’s not to say that I am simply rolling over and taking what comes, instead I am simply choosing the path of non resistance. And it’s by choosing to take this path that I am attempting to better allow myself to be with what happens instead of denying it or pushing it away.  Curiosity helps tremendously with this as well.
   
• And finally I am choosing to not take this all too personally. So much suffering can arise from the simple question…”why me?” It’s really none of my business. While it’s something that I can influence via lifestyle choices, ultimately I don’t have much control over the why and how I ended up with epilepsy and I’m ok with that. It’s something that will hopefully be managed with medication and how I choose to live my life, but it will always be with me.  I cannot control the storms that may arise, but I can hopefully steer the ship with an increased measure of skill and grace as I move forward.

So thanks for taking the time to read this post. It was an important one for me.  Thank you to Peter and TurfNet for continuing to give me a platform to share personal stories like this one. I hope it serves as a narrative that can help you or someone you love navigate a difficult life situation. 

Take care & be well.