Blink and You’ll Miss It

And on we go.

Just off your second 9 hour flight in 3 days.
One of those immigration queues that feels like it gets longer the more time you spend in it.
The mixture of long-haul flight sweat and irritable why-aren’t-we-at-Disney yet child and parent stress washing over everyone as the metallic tannoy voice announces the BA flight luggage belt is awaiting technical support… as if anyone’s got that far yet anyway.
There’s a coffee stain on the sleeve of your jumper that’s starting to smell like it’s been there since you left India.

But that’s not the only thing lingering. It must be something to do with airports. It’s like the anchor of transition, if there can be such a thing; you’re either leaving one place or arriving at another, and yet you’re in neither one place or the other. Not sure whether to look backwards or look forwards. Trying to bottle a feeling that might have already passed, or anticipate a feeling that hasn’t yet arrived. Still processing what you’ve left behind, but the pace of that processing might affect what’s ahead.

You stood in this same immigration queue at this same airport exactly two years ago.
In the exact same place.
And yet, in an entirely different place.

Then, the confidence was mixed with the unknown. A quiet assuredness that your plan had worked, because the only goal was to not have to go to first stage of Q School ever again. The only definitive that came out of an amateur/professional transition that created a thousand identity questions you didn’t know how to form, never mind answer. And yet, a definitive that created a plan, that led to quiet rungs of progress that looked like they were planned all along. A confidence created from the reaffirmation that figuring out things your own way, on your own terms, was enough to take you anywhere. But the unknown of ‘anywhere’… that was the next question waiting to be formed.

A question that led you down dead ends and into brick walls, that you occasionally smashed through, when careful steps turned into steady jogs turned into blind sprints that sent you flying but also sent you spiralling. On the never-ending merry-go-round of professional golf and elite sport and life itself, never quite sure if you want to step off and take a break to catch your breath and look around, but wondering if doing so will make it too hard to get back on again.

Two years later, the same immigration queue and the same reaffirmation. Of knowing that figuring things out will make things figure themselves out. This time brought about differently, in fits and starts and discomfort and periods of pure calm that remind you where ‘home’ is. Standing in that same immigration queue with a brain still threading the needle of a tournament that started a week ago but only ended two (give or take) full sleeps ago in a country 8000 miles away. The reaffirmation; the pride, the fulfilment of knowing you’re right where you’re meant to be… tinged with slight disappointment, all floating in a cloud of something else that could be a slight bitterness and could be acceptance: that the world keeps turning no matter where the pieces of your jigsaw are.

About megmaclaren

24, English professional golfer and FIU graduate. "Treat people as though they are who they ought to be and you'll help them become what they are capable of being"
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5 Responses to Blink and You’ll Miss It

  1. Jean-Luc Maisonhaute says:

    Hello Meghan. This time I unsderstand very well what you mean. I have 2 daughters livind in Montreal, QC, and queuing at immigration is not a good experience, I can imagine that, you, golfer frequent travelers are enduring when you jump from a to tournament to the next, you are tired of the tournament, the lack of sleep, the long travel and then you wonder why it’s so difficult to go from one country to another. But your motivation is still there to make the job you have choice. Planning is very difficult for the end of the season: Spain, India, Spain then Kenya. I wishes you the best, and “Bravo” for your 2019 season.

  2. Virgil Mincy says:

    Best wishes while you are “here.” May your results bring you joy when you go back “there” but give you a ticket back to “here.” Queues are more bearable when you are leaving a success than arriving, facing the unknown. Play well.

  3. Sheelagh OConnor says:

    You have 24 new golf fans & followers in Los Angeles now, fascinated by your game and progress.
    Inspired by the amazing talent of your mom too!

  4. The Lama says:

    Wow. Very interesting read. I find myself in a few airports going from event to event it’s quite bizarre at times as you stoke up the thoughts and feelings you felt the last time you were in the same place. Professional Golf is weird when you think you travel all over the world 🌍 at huge cost practice like mad then peg it up. Oh and come Sunday you will be paid according to your performance over 4 days. And then on again. So you can work 7 days get paid for 4 and only if you do ok. But…………. Enjoy 😉 every minute as life is so short and it passes very quickly

  5. Eric E says:

    Thank you for publicly sharing your thoughts. I tried to play professional golf. Now I am trying to run a business. So many parallels exist between the two. Uncertainty, “not sure weather to look backwards or forwards”. Seemingly meaningless decisions you make now could have major implications in the future. That can be overwhelming.
    Stay the course, if you love it. Play as long as you can, or as long as you want. LIfe on the other side is not that much different.
    Thank you for sharing, I will keep reading.

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