I often think these days how our memories work. Some things that I am working on and that have been going on in my life have caused me to scour my mind’s database, but that is a story for another time. I have thought about how much of what we say we remember actually happened the way we think it did? That is not to suggest that we are making things up, or embellishing on purpose, as much as how our brain works and what our “mind’s eye” conjures. Also, our individual perception of the past occurrence will almost always conflict with that of another person who was in the situation with you.

Why did I begin this blog like this? How does this relate to golf? Well, assuming you have read my blogs before, you know I tend to use golf as a method to get introspective. Usually it stems from what happened to me that day out on the course. This case will deal with the past, hence why I brought up the topic of how memories materialize.

Now in the event you didn’t know, or read my About page, I played golf for my high school for three seasons, sophomore through senior years. Thinking back on this, I feel very proud that I was able to accomplish this. Recently, I was sitting in the waiting area of a neurologist’s office waiting to have a discussion regarding my disability, Cerebral Palsy. I won’t bore you with the details of why here, you can go to JaysGolfVlog on YouTube to find that out if you wish. I will say though that fears of not being able to play golf anymore, or play on the level I have become accustom to, began to flood my mind while I waited. This lead me to think back to my high school days. A very vivid and pleasing memory came to mind. It actually served to calm my mind at the time, so I thought I’d share it with you.

It was day in spring and I was a junior in high school, though a literal lifetime ago, I can recall this day as if it were last week. I was walking in the hallway on my way to my next class and I heard a soft, lovely voice call my name. I walk slowly, well, more slowly than most, so I was caught up to rather quickly. The voice happened to be that of a very attractive girl who was a senior, who, I admit, I had a bit of a crush. I guess I always liked the older women, but I digress…

The fog of “why is she calling for me” wore off by the time she caught up to me and I was coherent enough to answer. She asked, “Wow! Why is you neck so tan?!” To which I responded, “I’m on the golf team, we play five days a week, looking down at a golf ball for two hours a day will do that I guess.” (Yes, I realize I talk to much!) I received a “Oh! Cool” in return. That is the extent of my memory of that incident.

As I sit in that waiting area that short discorse kept replaying in my head. I began to realize even though I did not know it then, and maybe not even until now, that may have actually been the first time I “believed” I was a golfer. A good golfer. No matter what this medical professional has to say to me, or what the future holds, I will always consider myself a good golfer.