Thought is creative. Once you choose to make a salad or a sandwich the process of creating flows from the clear vision of the chosen result. You do not have to analyze the process. Far too often we become confused or trapped in analysis, mechanics and reference books. Focus on the sensory feedback and satisfaction you experience with completion. Taste the result you have chosen.

I met a very bright high school golfer recently. When asked about her game she shared her ball striking was solid, but erratic putting held her back. “Have you tried putting by sense of smell?” I asked. She laughed and we discussed the matrix of choice, creativity and self-confidence. If you take a breath and have a clear vision of the chosen result – making a putt or winning a golf tournament – the mind acknowledges, the result is perceived as accomplished and the body relaxes into alignment. It’s a mature mindset that, with practice, produces results.

I encouraged her to be fearless and recommended she read my book, Will of Golf: Mastering the Mind-Body Connection. A month later the friend who introduced us advised the grateful golfer had read the book and was very excited to report shooting 67 and winning her regional high school tournament.

Golf has been my mind-game laboratory for most of my life as the choices made in a round of golf have immediate results. An essential aspect of the Will of Golf program is The Choice to Think Chapter adapted from Frank Natale’s foundational course Results: The Willingness to Create. I took the instructors training to present this material in 1987 and have since experienced waves of exponential creative energy that I have eagerly shared with friends, clients and though my writing.

“As a species we have evolved to a level of consciousness that challenges us to embrace our responsibility as creators,” Frank Natale writes in the Results course introduction. “With this higher level of awareness we may no longer claim ignorance. Reclaiming and celebrating our creative power is essential to our individual survival and to healing our families, communities and the planet.”

Making the choice to think is fundamental to exercising your creativity, whether you want to improve your sports performance, relationships or make a delicious spinach salad. Think about it and encourage others to do the same.

Congratulations to Bubba Watson, though. Frank Sinatra would be proud of him being true to his inner Bubba. There’s no apparent pretense in Watson’s approach to the game and ability to create mind-bending shots. The downside of the post-Masters press coverage was the resurgence of the “The Golf Boys” hip-hop video. Those guys busted moves for all the right reasons, but that ditty is unbearable to watch. I understand because I have committed my share of squirrel-certified acts – like at age 12 when I wore a fedora to a neighborhood teen party. I thought it was cool to impersonate Sinatra. I was wrong. I looked like an idiot. Bubba wears the bill of his visor pointed in the right direction so he has that going for him. And he does not use a belly putter.

If the occupy movement staged a “fair share” golf tournament fundraiser would they all use belly putters? Or mandate that all putts inside three feet be given? Perhaps, in tribute to Karl Marx, they wouldn’t keep score? Without competition would there be any viewers or sponsors? Unlikely when you hate capitalism. Some of my closest friends have used belly putters. I don’t fault them for avoiding the forward bend. When you get older stooping can become a painful affair. But Bubba did not use a belly putter to win the Masters. Or a swing coach. He’s old school authentic and to be applauded. During the last couple of rounds I have often thought, “How would Bubba Watson play this shot?” That brings me into the moment where creativity patiently waits and The Dukes of Hazzard theme song rolls merrily through my mind.

Much of life simply happens. If you take pause and step back you can witness the passing of each moment. And all we have in life are moments.

Then there are those things in life that are within our control. Those of us who play golf understand the difference. You either play it down, and make it happen, or you don’t. And no one in my life understood this more than Stormy Williams.

We first met in 1966. When Stormy walked into the Lake Hefner Golf Club where I worked you knew he was there. He was larger than life and exuded self-confidence, something I instinctively admired and carried with me through the decades that followed.

Jeff and I reconnected in the 90s. Whenever I came to town Jeff, Stormy and I would play a round at Lincoln or have our traditional Luanne Platter at Luby’s Cafeteria. Even when he could no longer play Stormy still offered advice and encouragement. If you asked for it, he would deliver and close with “Tell ‘em where you got it.”

We had moments together just the two of us. After watching the 2007 U.S. Open at his house Stormy shared the story of how he met Pat and how much he loved and missed her. He told me how proud he was of Jeff and Scott, Steve and Debbie. How he thought he’d lived a good life.

There was no doubt about that. I was honored to be his friend. And I told him so every time I saw him.

Like most players, I love new equipment and used to “change” my putter often. The shine on my new magic wand, however, wore off when flawed mechanics manifested the same frustrating outcome. Several years ago I committed to advance my approach, engaged a coach and have used only one putter with great success. Last week Paul Azinger, on his Twitter feed, reminded me of a simple putting tempo drill (one-two or one-two-three) that works wonders for your stroke. In golf we are both the garden and the gardener. We reap what we sow. Guidance from your local PGA grain merchant will make a difference.

“I found something out there today,” is a common refrain from Tour players after a breakthrough round. Consider this whenever you struggle on the course. The perfect golf swing is a myth, but when you manage your mind and emotions you will manage to score. The golf swing is an expression of your willingness to be present. When you commit to a fluid tempo and a balanced finish there is music playing only you can hear. Maybe the Blue Danube Waltz, Om Shanti or Born to Be Wild, but it is yours. Listen.

Golf is a metaphor for life, and certainly for these challenging times. The best we can do is to play the ball down, exercise our freedom and make the most of every situation. Hope has nothing to do with the outcome. When you are on your game the choices are clear and your results are on purpose. Do not hesitate or take yourself too seriously (although, if over forty, you may take ibuprofen). Results have little value unless they are enjoyed. There are moments when nothing is more satisfying than having a close friend, who has witnessed your struggles, shake their head and say, “Nice shot. I shouldn’t have pressed the bet.” Hold that thought. WOG

Sunday morning my sister forwarded an email acknowledging the 56 men who pledged their lives, fortunes and sacred honor when they signed the
 Declaration of Independence. They were men of means who understood 
the penalty would be death if they were captured. Five were captured, branded as traitors and tortured 
before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost sons in the Revolutionary Army, another had two sons captured. Nine fought and died from wounds or hardships of 
the war.

Twenty-four of the signers were lawyers and jurists, eleven were merchants, and nine were farmers and large plantation owners. Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships 
destroyed. He sold his home and properties 
to pay his debts and died in rags. Thomas McKeam served in the Congress without pay and kept his family in hiding. His possessions were taken and poverty was his reward. Looters claimed the property of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Rutledge and Middleton.

Thomas Nelson, Jr., at the battle of Yorktown, noted that British 
General Cornwallis had taken the Nelson home as his headquarters, but he urged General Washington to open fire. The home was 
destroyed and Nelson died bankrupt. Francis Lewis had his home and property destroyed. His wife was jailed and died within a few months. Each of the signers made a pledge for independence and self-reliance underscored by Thomas Jefferson’s quote: “A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough 
to take away everything you have.”

Last night, among a crowd of thousands, I watched fireworks gloriously illuminate the Santa Monica Bay. I considered the patriotic reverence of the onlookers as I recalled my father’s funeral decades ago and the resounding silence that follows a 21-gun salute. I acknowledge and celebrate service to country, the cost of freedom and the grand lessons of self-reliance and self-governance we share in the game of golf. Play it down. WOG

About a year ago I started leaving my sneakers untied. I don’t wear shoes in my place (it’s a yoga thing) so this is convenient for my lifestyle as I live at the beach now. Unless on a long walk the laces hang loose like looping black waves above my arches. Some evenings I roam the strand by the ocean with my shoes untied and consider using the beach as a practice bunker, but haven’t made that happen. You never know when you may need to play a shot from wet packed sand.

During our marriage the wife never complained about my passion for golf, but after our divorce her experience unrolled like a Persian rug. Her voice was calm yet firm and, in that moment, surprisingly attractive. I was completely attentive when she said, “For seven long years all you did was play golf, practice golf, talk about golf and watch golf on television.” A revelation because I never thought that behavior was abnormal. You learn a lot when someone suddenly stops laughing at your jokes.

Several years later, filled with reflection and existential bachelorhood, I wrote this poem: “Fools fall in love and, clutching their remorse, fools fall apart. The wise move into love like a comfortable old home with lots of room to be alone together.” It’s instructive to be clear about what you want and the choices we make. That way you avoid considerable pain, suffering or arguing about how much time you spend watching The Golf Channel.

A woman I met recently listened to a few of my stories and laughed before she said, “My god, I don’t even know you and I already feel like a golf widow.” Not everyone understands the value of self-reliance and the lessons of golf, the challenge the game represents and the opportunity to discover more of who we are. And there are some who do. We move on, raking bunkers whether we stepped in them or not. I wonder how your passion for golf has influenced the quality of your relationships? WOG

On the ninth green in a recent skins game two Rancho regulars watched and gave odds whether we’d make our birdie putts. The Kid, a twenty-something gamer, recommended we ignore them as the odds were against us. The Kid missed his putt and I made mine. No side money changed hands.

While we waited on the next tee, the Kid recounted when the wizard challenged him to a $20-a-hole putting game. After six holes the Kid was four down and lost the seventh. “Five down, pay up,” the wizard demanded. The Kid forked over $100 and asked, “How do you do that?” The wizard chuckled, “If you want to learn, it will cost you.” They went another round. The Kid made some putts and they came to the ninth hole all square. He left the 45-footer short. The wizard calmly surveyed the putt then drained it. “So, what’s the secret?” the Kid asked. And the wizard replied, “You tried to make that putt. I knew I would make it.”

After a moment of reflection I advised the Kid, “The wizard putts by sense of smell. He’s like Yoda. That’s the only explanation.” As Stormy Williams told me, “If you can’t line it up you got no chance.” Alignment is fundamental to the art of putting, but self-confidence is essential. Bobby Hinds, my putting and short game coach, has worked to open my stance, set my eyes over the ball and watch the hole on my practice stroke. Priceless tips he received from Ken Venturi.

I’ve always been a feel putter and adopting these techniques made a huge difference in my scoring game. Recently I had a round with 9 one-putt greens, unfortunately, not all of them were for birdies. When you clank your irons confident putting will save your day. If you want to putt like a wizard, engage your mental clutch, shift your mind into neutral and trust your stroke. Visualize the ball rolling into the cup then let it be. WOG

Even though I live in Southern California, I usually don’t play much in the winter months. As a result, each spring I set about sharpening my game by checking fundamentals – grip, stance, alignment, sequence – and focus on what needs the most attention. This year it’s what I call “staying in the saddle” or establishing a solid swing foundation by quieting the lower body. My swing coach Brady Riggs (see WOG links page) has a great video demonstrating the importance of reducing your leg action, which enables you to optimize posture, protect the lower back and create space at the top of your swing to facilitate the desired inside approach to the ball.

I’ve been clanking my irons, which indicates my position at the top of the backswing is off plane and my leading wrist does not match my wrist position at address. Checking it down, I focus on the impact position. If you are squared up at the moment of truth hitting it where you aim is greatly improved. Your mind prefers simple instructions so address these positions individually until you feel confident and then let it go.

At the practice range, in sequence, I set my foundation, feel the shaft light and down the line at the top and square at impact. Then I focus on making a controlled swing through the ball to a balanced finish with my chest square to the target. If you focus on this balanced finish position you’ve probably hit a successful shot. If not, ask your PGA professional to show you the way. WOG

In a recent game with my misfit crew, Silent Slim, a 24-year-old slayer who won our club championship with a 12 under par 36-hole total, was my partner in a match against Lucas the Impaler and Starch. We’re all scratch players, but after six holes the Impaler demanded we rotate partners (it was that bad). The eighth hole is a reachable par 5 and the others out drove me forty yards. I managed to hit a solid three-metal to 8 feet. The second shots of Silent Slim and Starch were long and short. The Impaler shoved his five-iron on the green fifty feet right of the pin. A loud and ruthless competitor, the Impaler will, if you have the time, recount his conquests dating back to junior golf. He loves to talk smack, but he’s a clutch player who can deliver the goods. I’ve seen him do it many times.

The Impaler surveyed the length of his fifty-foot putt, took one last look and made his play. It was perfect speed. When the ball dropped into the cup a one-man celebration ensued that rivaled the scene when Justin Leonard dropped the 45-footer on Jose Maria Olazabal in the 1999 Ryder Cup. “That’s how you make an eagle,” the Impaler roared. “Let’s see you make that eight footer now.” Players on a nearby tee box turned and stared at the aberrant exhibition. Silent Slim grinned. Starch danced his signature Irish jig and laughed out loud. “Laugh on,” I said to him. “But you’re my partner now.”

I must admit that I laughed, too. It was a hilarious moment common in our games, which can be as outrageous and entertaining as any Big Break episode. After the mayhem I missed my putt, but didn’t waste any energy making excuses. The Impaler enjoyed his moment of glory and there was plenty of golf to be played. I didn’t allow one miss to destroy my momentum. It was done. You have to accept that fact and move on. There will be other moments. As 1999 Ryder Cup captain Ben Crenshaw said, “I have a good feeling…” And that’s what the Will of Golf is all about. WOG

On the first tee recently Starch rubbed in his Buddha belly and proudly proclaimed, “Look, I’ve lost ten pounds.” There was a moment of silence, but only a moment. “Who are you kidding?” the Impaler countered. “We haven’t seen your belt buckle since the Clinton administration.” Starch did not back down. “My stomach is solid muscle,” he said. “Watch this launch angle.” He gripped and ripped his Pro V1 deep down the fairway. “Don’t you mean ‘lunch’ angle?” The Impaler laughed. “When you speed dial Domino’s tonight lounging in your rusting Ab Rocker, order extra anchovies and tell them to hold the pizza.”

As a teenager I was inspired by the discipline of South African Gary Player who was the first professional golfer committed to proper diet and physical fitness. Gary and I are similar size and I’ve followed his example over the years, especially now that the younger flat bellies crush it 320. But my friend Starch doesn’t want any advice on moderation or the consciousness of caloric restriction. Starch is a good sport and a generous soul who is always eager to treat for the pizzas at a card game. The opportunity, when you’re doing Domino’s, is to refrain from eating an entire 2,500-calorie pizza by yourself. Some things, like a good laugh in a casual round, are most satisfying when they are shared. WOG