The sweet spot
In the game of golf, there is a place known as the sweet spot. When that spot on the club face meets that spot on the ball, all that energy drives the ball forward into a golf shot that is sweet, indeed. And the golfer knows it instantly because the swing was effortless, the contact with the ball was barely noticeable, and the ball – well, it's still going. For a couple of months, I had been getting up very early - 2:30-ish. It's still dark and the world, my part of it, was quiet and at rest. There is something about this time that is magical. In the stillness of the early morning, I notice the beauty in the silhouette of the trees against the night sky. A slight breeze, like breath, nourishes the earth and lulls the night creatures to sleep. And I sense, no, I remember, that in this moment all is well. The crick in my neck doesn't matter, in fact, it's subsiding. My self-imposed deadlines don't matter. The worries that might arrive later don't matter. Not now. Not in this space. I've found the sweet spot. There's a scene in The Legend of Bagger Vance where Will Smith, as Bagger the caddy, counsels Junuh, the golfer played by Matt Damon, on being in the field: "You can't see that flag as some dragon you have to slay. You have to look with soft eyes. See the place where the tide, and the seasons, and the turning of the earth all come together; where everything that is becomes one." You may find your sweet spot in running, walking, or swimming; cooking, painting, or sewing; singing, dancing, or writing. Whatever it is, it's that space where you feel most authentic, doing something you love that feels effortless, and full-on appreciating it. Sweet, indeed!