Some conversations stay with you long after they end.
A couple of days back, at Irish Hills Golf Course, I found myself in one of those moments. We were being hosted by Jagdeep Bhaji and Lakhwinder Bhaji for a celebration – an evening filled with laughter, stories, and that easy kind of camaraderie and brotherhood that makes time slow down. Somewhere between the smiles and the diminishing sunshine, Lakhwinder Bhaji said something that has been echoing in my mind ever since.
He was speaking about golf, but the more he spoke, the more it began to sound like he was really speaking about life.
Looking at a couple of us who don’t play, he said with a smile, “You all should play. Come and try. Spend a couple of Saturdays on the green and see how you feel.” Then, almost as if he were sharing a quiet truth, he added, “Golf is a leveller. Anyone can play anyone, no matter how advanced the other player is. The handicaps allow you to compete on equal footing, and all that remains is your willingness to try your best.”
That struck a chord. In a world obsessed with titles, seniority, and experience, here someone was explaining a game designed to neutralize advantage. From what I could understand, it didn’t matter who you were outside the course. What mattered was how you showed up, how you focused, and how you recovered after a bad shot.
There was something quietly powerful about that explanation.
He spoke about playing with some excellent golfers over the years and how, with time, his handicap improved – not because he chased perfection, but because he simply kept showing up and learning. There was pride in his voice, but also a certain lightness. The kind of joy that, you feel, comes not from winning, but from knowing that progress itself is a privilege. Where, that steady, incremental improvement is its own quiet victory.
And then came the line that truly stayed with me. “In golf, you can only go forward,” he said. “You can have the worst shot ever, but you still get to move on to the next hole and play again. Golf doesn’t leave you much time to reflect on the past. You don’t stay stuck in what you did. You just get to enjoy the challenge of what’s next and the joy of doing better in the next stroke.”
Listening to him, I couldn’t help but think about how deeply that applies to leadership and life. The courage to move forward without dragging the past behind you. Too often we replay decisions that didn’t go as planned, conversations we wish we’d handled differently, or moments we’d like to redo. But life and leadership, much like the way he described golf, offers no replays. You have to play the shot, learn from it, and walk toward the next one.
Even as someone who hasn’t played, in that moment, I could see why so many leaders and thinkers, that I look-up, to find meaning and excitement in the game. Now I have a better appreciation of how it invites reflection without pressure, and competition without ego. The more I heard Lakhwinder Bhaji, the more it felt to that each stroke is like a small decision – what club to use, how to angle your swing, how to read the wind. You can’t control every variable, but you can control your mindset. You can prepare, focus, commit, and then let go.
That philosophy feels universal.
What also stood out was how grounding the experience seemed. Bhaji described being out in nature, surrounded by green, spending a few hours away from the constant noise, talking about life and work, ambition and family, all while moving forward together. There’s something deeply human about that articulation. It presented golf not just as a sport; but as a space for connection, for slowing down, for remembering that we belong to something larger than our calendars and to-do lists.
As I thought about it later, it became clear that the essence of what he said wasn’t really about golf. It was about rhythm. About learning to recover, to begin again, to stay in motion. Every hole is a new beginning. Every stroke, a fresh attempt. Every mistake, a reminder that resilience often matters more than skill.
That’s the thought I carried home from Irish Hills that night. Life, leadership, and maybe even golf, all share a quiet truth: you can only go forward. You can’t redo the last shot, but you can learn from it. You can’t control the wind, but you can adjust your stance. And perhaps most importantly, you can’t dwell too long on what went wrong, because the next hole is waiting.
As we ended the day with stories and laughter, Bhaji said something I’ll remember as a deep memory from that night: “Golf is this moment. It gives you the chance to be out in nature, to breathe, to connect, to live.”
Maybe that’s the real reason for me to play. Not just to learn the game, but to rediscover what it means to live lightly – to walk forward, to forgive your last shot, and to meet each new challenge with calm curiosity. After all, life, like golf, isn’t about mastering the course. It’s about learning to play it well, one stroke at a time.
And truth be told, golfing has been in the back of my mind for some years now, and maybe, just maybe, Lakhwinder Bhaji has inspired me to seek out a green sometime soon. Maybe it’s time to start looking for a good set of clubs.