This Is Not the Place to Look for Satisfaction
I’m not a big golfer.
I play occasionally, and I can keep up well enough for business purposes. But I’m not spending every weekend on the course.
I just have other things I enjoy more.
Golf, like anything else, requires consistency. If you want to be good, you have to put in the time. I’ve never been willing to give the game that much of mine.
But my favorite athlete is a golfer.
Yes, the guy who is obsessed with football considers Scottie Scheffler his favorite athlete.
And it has very little to do with golf.
I really started paying attention to Scottie after watching a press conference before The Open in July 2025.
At the time, he was the number one golfer in the world. He had won the Masters twice, had just won the PGA Championship, and was dominating his sport.
Yet he sat in front of a room full of reporters and openly wrestled with a question most successful people don’t want to ask:
What’s the point?
He talked about working his entire life to win a tournament, finally doing it, celebrating with his family, and then almost immediately asking what they were going to eat for dinner.
Life goes on.
The feeling of winning lasts a few minutes.
Then everyone wants to know what you’re going to do next.
That stopped me.
Here was the best golfer in the world admitting that reaching the top didn’t satisfy the deepest parts of his heart.
He wasn’t ungrateful.
He wasn’t saying the work didn’t matter.
He loves golf. He loves competing. He appreciates the life the game has given him.
But he understands that golf cannot carry the weight of giving his life meaning.
“This is not the place to look for your satisfaction.”
That may be the most honest thing I’ve ever heard an athlete say.
It also made me think about my own life.
I’m competitive.
I want to win.
I want to make hires. I want to build markets. I want the people I work with to believe I’m great at what I do.
When a candidate says yes, it feels incredible.
But that feeling doesn’t last very long either.
The hire is announced.
Everyone celebrates.
Then the phone rings again.
There’s another market to build. Another candidate to find. Another call to make. Another number to hit.
The show goes on.
There’s nothing wrong with that.
I love recruiting. I love the chase. I love helping someone find a place where they can thrive. I love being part of building something with people I believe in.
But recruiting cannot be the place I look for satisfaction either.
If my identity depends on the next hire, I will always need another one.
If my worth depends on what I produce, no amount of production will ever be enough.
I know where that road leads.
Recovery and spirituality have taught me that fulfillment cannot be found by constantly reaching for the next external thing.
The next win.
The next title.
The next paycheck.
The next moment of recognition.
For a long time, I believed that if I could just get the right thing, achieve enough, or become important enough, I would finally feel okay.
But desire doesn’t work that way.
It moves the finish line.
Scottie said he doesn’t begin a season by deciding how many tournaments or majors he needs to win. He has dreams and aspirations, but he tries to stay present, practice hard, and get the most out of himself each day.
That is where the connection really landed for me.
The work matters.
The results matter.
But we only control the work.
In recruiting, I can’t control whether someone answers the phone.
I can’t control whether a candidate accepts an offer.
I can’t control every decision a leader makes or every change in the market.
I can control whether I show up.
I can make the call.
I can listen.
I can tell the truth.
I can care about the person on the other end of the phone.
I can try to get the most out of myself today.
Scottie also spoke about being number one in the world. He respected the accomplishment, but he said you don’t become number one by thinking about the ranking.
You focus on the tournament in front of you.
The shot in front of you.
That is golf.
That is recruiting.
That is life.
I get into trouble when I live too far ahead.
When I start building stories about what could happen.
When I need a future result to make me feel secure today.
My spiritual practice keeps bringing me back to the same place.
Right here.
This conversation.
This phone call.
This breath.
This day.
Scottie’s priorities became even clearer when he talked about his family.
He said his responsibility is to his family first. He spoke about thanking his wife for caring for their son while she thanks him for going out and putting in the work.
Then he said something even stronger.
If golf ever began damaging his relationship with his wife or his son, that would be the last day he played professionally.
Think about that.
The best golfer in the world is willing to walk away from being the best golfer in the world if it costs him what matters most.
I want to live with that kind of clarity.
I love what I do.
But I love Hannah more.
I love the people recovery has placed in my life more.
I love being available to someone who is struggling more.
I love the spiritual life I have been given more.
My career is important.
It is not the most important thing.
That doesn’t make me less driven.
I actually think it allows me to work harder without letting the work own me.
Scottie hates losing. He said that plainly.
So do I.
There is sometimes a strange belief that spiritual people shouldn’t be competitive or ambitious.
I don’t believe that.
You can want to win without making winning your identity.
You can work relentlessly without worshipping the result.
You can be grateful for success without expecting it to heal something inside you.
You can care deeply and still let go.
Maybe that is what I admire most about Scottie Scheffler.
He is not pretending that being number one doesn’t matter.
He is simply refusing to pretend that it matters most.
He puts in the work.
He competes.
He tries to win.
Then he goes home to his family.
I may never become much of a golfer.
But that is a way of living I want to keep practicing.
