#10 What matters most is next

Up next in the golfing calendar is the 125th US Open this weekend. The Oakmont course near Pittsburgh, hosting this major for the tenth time, always plays really tough. And the rough is just so deeeep and loooong.

Up next here is golf lesson #10 which got me thinking about “next” – a tiny word in big trousers. Speaking of baggy trousers, Ben Hogan once said, "The most important shot in golf is the next one."

Easy to say for a golf GOAT who’s never had much experience of the walk of shame.

The stroll that happens after you're a million-percent certain your ball landed somewhere findable. You saw it bounce and settle in what looked like a reasonable spot. So, you didn’t bother hitting a provisional. But after three minutes of searching, it’s back to the tee while your playing partners tut and check their watches.

On the lonely walk, my mind wanders to my life as a freelancer. My slow pace mirrors the sluggish, sloppy marketplace where businesses seem to be sitting on budgets and emails languish in inboxes. No need to reply, no worries.

Meanwhile tech disruption has everyone wondering what they actually need, questioning what they actually do and spinning out about who they are.

It's like this... sometimes the ball just vanishes, no matter how well you thought you hit it or got away with it. Now, it’s not a matter of what you lost but what next.

The next opportunity is out there (somewhere)

Here's what that short, shit-for-brains, solitary walk says to you: dwelling on a lost ball kills your confidence. Replay that shot a hundred times in your head if you like (you won’t like), but the ball’s still gone and you now need to get the next one in play.

The freelance equivalent hits where it hurts because the stakes are higher. When prospects are thin and belts tighten, we're all there... catastrophising. Thinking that lost client is not coming back and the market has you in checkmate.

But opportunities keep coming if you’re in the right spot, just like golf holes. The mind game is believing it when you're about to take a shot – not dwelling on what you just did or didn’t do.

Anger weighs you down

The worst part about losing a ball isn't the two-stroke penalty – it's the (mild) rage. Suddenly you're berating the course, the weather, the greens and your bad luck. Maybe even your playing partners for not having x-ray-golf-ball vision.

In freelancing, it's a familiar spiral. You didn’t get the gig so you blame the economy, politicians’ ineptitude, AI shatbottery, clients who wouldn’t know good copy from McCopy™. We can all rage against the machine. Meanwhile the algorithm keeps churning, grinding, learning and flipping word burgers.

But anger is a heavy load around a golf course or a marketplace. It makes you tense, spikey, and you overthink and fall out of rhythm. And it induces amnesia about your personal brand that got you and your business this far.

Resilient players shrug off losses and misses, reload and back themselves even when recent evidence suggests the opposite. That’s what I’m telling myself in any case.

Play what’s front of you

After a walk of shame, it’s tempting to get a bit reckless and try the impossible.

Don’t.

Making up for what you’ve lost with one heroic shot is a fool’s paradise. It’s better to settle and stick to playing your game your way and let things unfold from there. Instead of glory, see what’s next with next-level acuity.

I know it’s a tough market. We should all be thinking what next. But you can't control clients, their budgets, the march of AI, or taxes. You are, however, in charge of your next pitch, your next job, your next conversation... your next comment on LinkedIn (hint).

So, please don't hoodwink yourself into feeling like you need to swing harder, reduce your rates or do a professional U-turn. Usually, that just leads to more lost balls and a kick in the proverbials.

All is not lost

Here's the absolute bottom line with the game of golf and freelancing for a living – if they were easy, every bugger would be a millionaire. Only we’re not.

Lost balls, lost clients and lost headlines are part of the deal, though it might feel like the game is rigged against you at times (like right now.)

Surviving is finding a slither of satisfaction in the process, not just the score or your bank balance (though they matter too, don’t get me wrong.) Like appreciating the shot that found trouble or the crafting of a headline even if someone bastardised it. Either way, it’s job well done, now move on.

What matters most is next. The next shot, the next pitch, the next chance to show what you can do. So, keep your eyes, ears and mind open to who or what might pop up. Let alone what you might find along the way.

And if you find my ball, keep it. I’ve got a few more in the bag, because you never know what’s next.