In golf, the grass always looks greener on the other side, at least when it comes to my swing and my game.

Some of my friends have beautifully rhythmic golf swings that create effortless speed and distance. Others exhibit a raw power I could only hope to emulate in the youth of my next life. I know a wizard with a wedge, and guys and girls that can move the ball both ways with ease. It can sometimes be a daunting mental challenge to dare dream that I could compete with these golfers, yet, persist I must.

Thus, the rare occasions when I receive a compliment on about my golf game are met with genuine shock and profuse gratitude. During our most recent Guys’ Golf Trip at Arcadia Bluffs, I received perhaps my favorite golf compliment ever.

“Of all of the Dave Hill golf quirks, I wish I could hit a great shot after an awful shot like that, like it never happened,” my friend declared to our playing partner.

It might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my golf game, and it certainly was the most satisfying to hear, because it affirms how I’ve decided to approach my golf game: by staying in the moment. Changing the mental habits of my game have been every bit as much work, if not more, as changing the physical characteristics of my swing.

Several years ago, I stopped tabulating my score during my round; I don’t even add up the front nine scores at the turn.  When people ask me what if I’m around a certain number or what I shot, I honestly tell them I have no idea. A round of golf, for me, is a series of 18 little one-hole wars.

Admittedly, this exact mental formulation works better for match play than stroke play or Stableford, but it’s the only thing that works right now. As an extension of that philosophy, even within a hole, I never give up and try to put the last shot out of my mind as I prepare for the next one.

I feel like I’ve hit an awful shot (think skulling a wood going for the green or terrible out from a fairway bunker), then fired right down upon the flag with my next shot for a kick-in putt at least once per round. In the back of my mind, I know I’m not good enough to get volcanically angry over a bad shot, and that it’s not going to fix anything if I do.

This isn’t groundbreaking stuff, there are probably thousands of sports psychology, self-help, and motivational books and videos, and TED talks that boil down to telling us that leaving the past in the past is the only way forward. However, since I’ll never be the one with the coveted swing or magical short game, it was just nice that someone informed me that having a short memory had become one of my signature playing characteristics.