Keeping your priorities straight

Great article about Annika Sorenstam, the world's record-breaking female golfer who, at 37, is in the midst of retiring from the game. I think it's clear she has a philosophy of life . . . and it has served her well.

Some key insights I found:

• "[W]hat people don't see is the huge amount of effort it requires to stay at the top [of one's game]. So, when you stand there practising and you realise that your mind is on other things, then you know that it is time to move on."

• "When you get a little older, you start having other priorities. You begin thinking about families and so forth. It's unrealistic to assume you can commit 100 per cent forever and if you can't do that, it's tough to stay at the top. It's hard to leave something you enjoy, but the youngsters ... the only thing in their lives is golf. I've moved on."

• "A few years ago, I was leading in one of the biggest tournaments and I was really trying to calm myself down and make myself feel comfortable,' she recalls. 'So, under my visor, I wrote the words, "Face the fear", and what that meant was just to go out there, embrace the challenge and enjoy it."

• Sorenstam has become a model for other women. And so "Sorenstam's heiress apparent, Lorena Ochoa, 26, has spoken of her wish to pack away her clubs in her early 30s, maintaining: 'Life's too short to do just one thing. This is my sixth year as a professional. When I get to 11 or 12, I will move on, do something else.'"

• "Her brand statement is 'Share my passion', which she brings to designing golf courses from South Carolina to South Africa, helping children reach their potential, her foundation scholarships, branching out into show-business with regular appearances on Jay Leno and David Letterman's chat shows, and throwing the first pitch of the Washington Nationals-New York Mets baseball game at the Shea Stadium."

A Great Teacher

I just read a wonderful book, Tuesdays With Morrie. It's the moving story of a 37-year-old man who reconnects with his most significant professor from college . . . at the very moment that the professor is dying from ALS--Lou Gehrig's Disease. They spend 14 Tuesdays together discussing the most important issues of life.

Something about the book makes me think, with joy, of my relationship with my children. And it makes me think, too, with sadness, about my relationship with my father.

I love the book's final lines. They affirm to me why no parent should ever not want to homeschool.

. . . Okay. Forgive me. Let me put that positively.

The final lines affirm to me why all parents should want to homeschool their children . . . and why I feel the pleasure of continuing in relationship with my children now that they are all "out of the house" and forging ahead with their own lives . . . yet my wife and I are still involved with them. What a privilege!

Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such teachers, you will always find your way back. Sometimes it is only in your head. Sometimes it is right alongside their beds.

The last class of my old professor’s life took place once a week, in his home, by a window in his study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink flowers. The class met on Tuesdays. No books were required. The subject was the meaning of life. It was taught from experience.

The teaching goes on.