Serendipity - for the Friends of Sunflower by conzettverlag

Serendipity

SERENDIPITY For the Friends of Sunflower

Serendipity Is to Find But Not to Seek.

He Who Thinks is Lost. He Who Feels is Lost. He Who Knows Wins.

PREFACE The mission of Sunflower is to disseminate ideas and information on successful

investing.

Readers

familiar

with

this

book

series will know that it does not address specific trading tactics or get-rich-quick schemes. Many excellent books already cover these topics. Rather, the aim is to give the reader an understanding of some of the larger issues related to money and investing. Nevertheless, some people might wonder if it isn’t straying too far afield to put out an investment book that, for all appearances, is devoted exclusively to golf. In fact, nothing could be a more apt metaphor for the central thesis of this book. This volume suggests that successful investing, like good golf, requires cultivation not only of the outer game—learning about markets and trading, or about correct posture for the golf swing—but also of the inner game, of the proper mindset which leads to success and at times, to the revered feeling of being “in the zone,” of serendipity, of being in perfect synch with one’s activity. How better to illustrate being in the perfect state and successfully playing the inner game than with these beautiful and evocative photographs of golf. Those who have experienced being “in the zone” as golfers, as investors, or in other activities, and those upon whom this made a lasting impression, became immediately aware that something special had happened, something that opened up a new and deeper way of seeing, indeed perhaps a path into more dimensions and greater mastery. Golfers describe it best when saying that on a certain day, while playing a round of golf, for no apparent reason their game felt like magic. They could do nothing wrong, every shot was excellent; their entire game was “in synch.” Golfers speak of these moments with reverence, wishing they would reoccur, even though they may last only a 9

few shots, or part of a game. The crux is that the player succeeded beyond his previous abilities, and experienced playing more like a pro than the beginner he might have been before. Often a player will describe this as a quantum leap in his game, one never to be forgotten. I have experienced a similar event with investing. For several weeks, my trading models which are usually quite consistent were producing mediocre results. I could not understand where the problem lay. Everything was operating as usual, but the results did not materialize. I struggled to find an answer, to repair a flaw in the system, but I could find no apparent cause. Suddenly, one day, in a single moment, I started to see things in a different light. I cannot explain how the insight came, but my view of the investing environment changed, and I was able to see the flaws in my system with surprising clarity. Ironically, my solution seemed quite obvious in retrospect, and I wondered why I had not seen it before. I made the necessary adjustments, and carried on with greater success. This moment has remained in my mind because it represented a quantum leap in my understanding. I cannot explain how I got from where I was before to where I ended up. All I know is that my understanding has been clearer since then, and my trading results have been better. Like many golfers, I believe these moments of insight show us a new approach to our activities and our life. We are humbled to see how much is beyond our conscious control. Suddenly, the golfer discovers that he can produce the perfect shot, even though he cannot control when it will happen. The investor, too, works rigorously on his 10

trading approach, but never knows when the moments of great insight will arrive. As much as we may seek to achieve mastery, control over it seems to elude us. So we become curious and start searching for answers. Why did this leap happen? How can I make it reoccur? How many other hidden abilities do I possess? How do we establish the correct mindset to generate success? These questions, to which everyone develops his own answers, are the starting point of this book. Readers are encouraged to engage them as they go about their work and leisure. A reputed Wall Street trader who runs a hedge fund is known for saying that he is “in the zone” for one or several months at a time. During that time, everything runs smoothly, he is on top of his game, and the returns are high. However, from time to time, the feeling leaves. Having learned that he cannot fight this because it simply makes things worse, he unwinds his positions during his down times and leaves his assets in cash. Until clarity returns, he knows he cannot achieve top results, so he waits. This is an admirable approach because it shows how to combine the outer game—the techniques of trading and the desire for gain—with the inner game, which accesses the intuitive know-how to achieve results without relying solely on rational thought. The inner game can be, and has been, described in many ways. It first of all involves finding joy and fascination in what one does. People seek out games and leisure activities that are difficult, challenging, and require enormous skill because the challenges are enjoyable. People cannot be successful investors if they see investing as a chore or a duty, rather than a passion. Developing an investment approach and sticking by it, even through difficult markets, requires so much 11

research, discipline, and self-mastery that unless one truly enjoys it, success could only be attained by luck. Better to retain a money manager, and devote oneself to a true passion. Second, the inner game requires playing the game for its own sake, not for the external reward. A golfer motivated by pride or ego, or an investor motivated by greed or the lure of easy money, is not someone devoted to mastering a craft. The inner game is the craft—it involves studying of the slope of a hill, hours of practicing a swing, observing treetops to guess the force of the wind. In investing, the inner game might involve following the behaviour of a stock, studying the history of currency flows, desiring to know all there is to know about a certain industry or trading technique. In my experience, successful investors have been motivated not by amassing large sums of money, but rather by the desire to support something dear, like a family, or perhaps an expensive hobby or collection. Gains and success come as by-products of mastering the craft, not as a result of focusing on the gains to be had. Those who focus too much on the desired outcome lose contact with the game. One of the many paradoxes of human existence is that the very things that motivate and energize us the most also prevent us from reaching our goals. Man has an extraordinary desire to succeed, to be victorious, and to accrue benefits through his activities. Everyone wants to win and be the best, and indeed, this wish is among our best qualities. Without the drive to succeed, we would be lazy and unproductive and our civilisations would never have advanced. However, too much drive can blind us. It can lead to impatience, impulsiveness, poor judgement, and eventually error and loss. Everyone at one time or another has been led astray by greed, ego, denial, envy, delusions of 12

invincibility, or pride. But each of us has also lived to regret opportunities not taken. Learning how to properly navigate the waters between the determination to succeed and the danger of losing focus is one way to tackle the inner game. The inner game is something we practice. It involves self-knowledge and observation. “When I get nervous I miss my putting shot.” “When the markets get choppy, I become uncertain and sell too soon.” Accepting and getting to know one’s automatic behaviors is the first step in mastering them. The inner game also requires a complete submission of the self to the game. Here, world literature brims over with books recommending a path to the Middle Way, to the Zen of various activities, to transcendence, to unification with one’s goal. In more or less mystical terms, these works seek to guide us through discipline and practice to be able to forget the conscious self and focus only on the game. Professionals in every field offer their own recipe for success. A noted actor once said “I do not get up on stage looking for inspiration. I go there to do my work, which is acting, and occasionally, inspiration strikes.” Clearly, the focus is on the work, not on the applause, the fame, or the critical acclaim. Cultivating the inner path is a humble endeavor. Precise work, constant practice, learning, as well as adaptation to changing circumstances are required. When we first take up an activity, we are plagued by failure and doubt, and we may even consider giving up. Then, some mastery develops, at which point we risk becoming over-confident. Next, we are usually reminded somewhat abruptly that we are still fallible! Through all these stages, it is important to seek the balance and perspective that will create further progress. 13

We end with a quote from Jeffrey Wallach, a writer who has been moved by his transcendent experiences on golf courses to write several books, among them Beyond the Fairway—Zen Lessons, Insights and Inner Attitudes of Golf. Here, Wallach muses on an afternoon when he effortlessly hit several perfect shots: When golf first became a metaphor to me, I believed that if I could only control my game, I could necessarily exert the same kind of discipline and control in other areas of my life. But of course, the temporary perfection I had achieved … happened because I let go of control … When I surrendered to the process and just played, I began to truly experience and enjoy each shot, and I began scoring better. I hope the photographs in this book will encourage readers to focus with strength and conviction on their inner path, on their relationship with their chosen game, be it golf, investing, or something entirely different. To those of us who believe we are traveling on our inner path, it is a fantastic adventure with more surprises and insights than we could have imagined. Jürg Conzett

SERENDIPITY

A state you must not dare to enter With the hope of staying, quicksand in the marshes, and all the roads leading to a castle that doesn’t exist. But there it is as promised. With its bridge over the crocodiles, and the doors forever open. Stephen Dunn, American poet

A PERSONAL JOURNEY Arnold Palmer1

If I spend enough time with someone in a foursome on the golf course, I can tell you just about everything you want to know about him, from whether you can trust him to what kind of businessman he is to whether or not he’s someone you want to be with at all.

I was oblivious to the tremendous pressure I was under. I did not think for a moment of the consequences of a poor shot. There was no fussing over the technical details of my swing. I was almost completely unaware of the thousands of people in the gallery, of the television cameras watching my every move, of the competitors making a run to overtake me. Mentally and physically it was as though I was on automatic pilot. My thoughts were clear, ordered, and decisive. All I did was pull a club from the bag, swing, and the type of shot I envisioned would come off perfectly.

David Graham, after winning the 1981 US Open2

When a putter is waiting his turn to holeout a putt of one or two feet in length, on which the match hangs at the last hole, it is of vital importance that he think of nothing. At this supreme moment he ought studiously to fill his mind with vacancy. He must not even allow himself the consolations of religion. He must not prepare himself to accept the gloomy face of his partner and the derisive delight of his adversaries with Christian resignation should he miss. He must not think that it is a putt he would not dream of missing at the beginning of the match, or, worse still, that he missed one like it in the middle. He ought to wait calm and stupid till it is his turn to play, wave back the inevitable boy who is sure to be standing behind his arm, and putt as I have told him how—neither with undue haste nor with exaggerated care. When the ball is down and the putter handed to the caddy, it is not well to say “I couldn’t have missed it.” Silence is best. The pallid cheek and trembling lip belie such braggadocio.

Walter Simpson, The Art of Golf, 1887 22

EXTRAORDINARY GOLF Fred Shoemaker3 I have given more than 30.000 individual golf lessons and conducted hundreds of seminars for amateurs and professionals in several countries. In this time I have learned some things about the meaning of freedom in golf. It means that when you step up to a shot, if you think of formulas, checklists, or swing keys, you’re not free. If you think that looking good and not being embarrassed are most important, you’re not free. If your actions are shaped by fear, or even hope, you’re not free. … Freedom is thinking, “What shot would I hit if it were just up to me?” Which it is. A person who can play this way is, in my opinion, the only person who is playing real golf. Everything else is golf with an asterisk, a footnote, a disclaimer. What about score? Although most people believe that getting the “right” swing and hitting the “right” shots will lead to the best scores, that has not been my experience. The freedom that I am describing is the basis for truly excellent, exceptional—extraordinary—golf. … The freedom makes it all happen, and there is no freedom in formula. My gut feeling is that in golf you’re either creating or you’re dying. I think that what makes great players stand out is that they approach all their shots with this same sense of creativity. I have found that extraordinary people are able to keep the possibilities open all the time. They play a game that is full of promise and excitement. Have you ever taken the time to notice what you bring with you to the first tee? I don’t mean equipment, I mean the things you can’t see—the things inside you. First, most golfers come to the first tee committed only to looking good (hitting a good shot) and not being embarrassed. This desire for others’ approval is so basic that most 24

golfers are not even aware of it. Second, golfers are full of judgements about everyone and everything. This person has a better swing; the weather will make things tough. Third, no matter where they are on the golf course, most golfers are always just two shots away from being crazy. No matter how well they’re playing, a couple of bad shots in a row can change their entire experience. They are always on the verge of being upset. Now, with a package list like this, it is very difficult to achieve and sustain extraordinary play. It’s important to become aware of the package and then redesign it. Awareness leads to improvement.

A LESSON IN AFRICA Fred Shoemaker3 I joined the Peace Corps and was assigned to teach high school in Africa. The new challenges and the new friends did me a world of good, as did the opportunity to help others and not worry so much about my own problems. After the usual training and travel adventures, I found myself teaching in a small village in central Ghana. Needless to say, golf is not big in equatorial Africa, and that was just fine with me. But after a few months of teaching, I got homesick for the game. I knew there was at least one golf course in the country, because on the way to the village I had seen it, just outside the capital city, Accra. It wasn’t quite what I was used to—the fairways were indistinguishable and the greens were really “browns”—but I was in no position to be picky. I wanted to tee it up. So I wrote a letter to the course saying that I was an American golf professional—I thought that would help—and asking if I could play a round sometime during my upcoming Christmas break. I received a quick and enthusiastic reply. I was on! They would be expecting me on the morning of December 28. The next thing to do was to get some clubs. When I got to Accra I called the US embassy—and I was in luck. It turned out that the previous US ambassador had left behind a set of clubs that I was welcome to. And that previous US ambassador to Ghana just happened to have been Shirley Temple Black. So there I was, about to play golf in Africa with Shirley Temple’s golf clubs. About this time I began to realize that no matter what else came out of this, it was going to be a good golf story. When I arrived at the course on the morning of the twenty-eighth, a fairly large crowd had gathered on the first tee. I was met by the peo27

ple in charge and introduced to the crowd as the American golf champion. I was then introduced to a handsome, alert, cheerful man about my age and height who was going to be my playing partner. He had what seemed to be the standard attire for the course—T-shirt, shorts, and bare feet⎯and carried a set of clubs that would have been at home in the Smithsonian Institution. His name was Kojo, and he was the Ghanaian golf champ. We were going to play a match. My first reaction, after surprise, was right in line with my Peace Corps training—Be a good ambassador. Don’t beat him too badly, make it a close, exciting game, and everyone will be happy. Another thought also popped into my head, along the lines of “I’ve always wanted to be the best golfer in the country, maybe I’ve finally found the right country!” I was looking forward to an enjoyable round. Considering the conditions and the layoff that I’d had, I started out playing pretty well. So did Kojo, however, and even though I was playing full out, I was only one up after nine holes. Kojo was certainly talented, but not exceptionally so, and he obviously had limited instruction and experience. But he seems to get the most of his ability and was really enjoying the game. As we began the back nine my attitude started to change. I just wanted to win. I didn’t even want to think about the embarrassment of losing the match. My game, of course, changed as well, and not for the better. Kojo seemed to play the same as before. He pulled even at 11 and at 16 he went one up. On 17 he sank a ten-footer for the match. The last I saw of him he was being carried toward the clubhouse on the shoulders of the crowd.

A Lesson Learned: I put on a game face, of course. I laughed and made “good ambassador” jokes, but on the inside I felt humiliated. Even knowing that if 28

we played ten matches I would win most of them didn’t take the sting out of this one loss. But this was a time in my life when, thankfully, I was able to learn from adversity. Over the next few days I began to understand what had happened out there on the course. Even though Kojo and I were both playing golf, we were playing vastly different games. My game, especially on the back nine, was concerned with performance and avoiding embarrassment⎯looking good. His game—well, I’m not really sure what he was experiencing, but he seemed to be playing with a joy and a sense of freedom that I had rarely seen. My game filled me with anxiety and self-doubt and made me play worse than I was able to play. His game allowed him to play far closer to his potential. It began to dawn on me that in order to play the type of golf that I’d always aspired to, I had to play a different game than the one I’d been playing all these years. I also began to understand that in order to play this different game, I had, in essence, to become a different person. The “me” who played the game had to change. At the time, I didn’t have a clue how to do that, but I was sure I wanted to try.

QUOTES from Michael Murphy4

The most excruciating moments in golf come while standing over short putts, the ones that are impossible to miss unless you do something grossly wrong. Something inside says, “You will miss; you’ll do the impossible.” And blink! You hit the ball sideways. It’s the simplest movement fouled up, the most insidious opening to your demons. Those are the real character testers. Almost any tip will work for a while, but none works reliably. Essentially they’re like placebos, building confidence rather than being instrumentally effective. Yet most golfers and teachers make absolutes out of tips.

THE INNER GAME OF GOLF Timothy Gallwey5 For the first thirty years of my life I dedicated myself to making something of myself—to being something more than my current self-image. The day I really became a player of the Inner Game I turned 180 degrees from this pursuit to that of discovering more and more of what I already am. By and large this has been a process of “un-becoming” my images of myself. It’s like peeling off layers to get closer and closer to a simple core. And what’s at that core? Sincerity⎯something I can’t describe. No matter what pictures I paint of this core, they are inaccurate. It can’t really be pictured because it’s so profoundly basic, but the closer I get to it, the more I can sense that it is natural, strong and universal. When that sincerity is the part of me that’s predominant, I don’t need to know if I’m going to play good or bad golf. I don’t have to limit myself with expectations. I don’t require any special results. Paradoxically, at times when I don’t feel I need good results I can’t seem to avoid them. The minute I grow greedy for them and try to hold on to them or make them happen, I tighten a little, try to force them, and find that they tend to slip away. After a golfer has shattered his illusion that results have real importance in golf, to the extent that he neither becomes overly excited when he achieves them nor upset when he doesn’t, he must take another step to gain maximum benefit from the game. Knowing that results have no importance, he must now pretend they do. Pretending that winning has importance is essential to making one’s best effort and to receiving the most pleasure from the game. You may ask, “Why destroy an illusion just to rebuild it?” The answer is that only a thin line separates pretending to believe in an illusion and actually believ32

ing in it. On one side of the line the illusion works for you; on the other it works against you. To create the golf illusion consciously can be a lot of fun and involves avoiding real pressure, as well as finding a much higher degree of motivation. I knew that there was more satisfaction to be gained from golf than the pleasure of good results. Thereafter I began playing the game more for the experience it could give me and for what I could learn while playing. I enjoyed playing without doubt or fear of failure, and whenever I achieved this state of mind I knew that it was the only game for me. This shift from the outer to the inner game in golf reflects a general rebalancing occurring in the culture at large. There is a growing realization that physical control over our external environment is limited. As our culture undergoes a necessary rebalancing of its outer and inner games, sports in general can find a new raison d’être.

LOST INNOCENCE Timothy Gallwey5 Harry approached me after an Inner Game learning demonstration, during which a fourty-year-old man who had never held a tennis racket before learned to serve and keep the ball in play, using proper footwork and changing grips, in about twenty minutes. “Seeing how easily you helped him learn tennis,” Harry said eagerly, “I was thinking that you might be able to help me with my golf.” “What seems to be the problem?” He proceeded to tell a story that I might not have believed if I hadn’t been convinced of his sincerity. “About five years ago,” Harry said, “I took up golf for fun and relaxation. I used to get off work at three and be able to play a round before dark. I worked on the weekends when my friends played, so I always played alone. About a year went by before I had the chance to play with some other people. I was surprised that they all shot in the high eighties or low nineties, and they were astounded that I’d shot seventy-four.” “How do you do that, after playing for only a year?” they asked in astonishment. “If you’re that good already, you could probably easily learn to break par and earn your living on the tour. You should start taking lessons and go for it.” “I didn’t know how I’d done it; I didn’t think it was any big deal to shoot par. I’d done it lots of time. In fact, that’s what I thought ‘par’ meant—the score you were expected to make.” I looked at Harry incredulously.

“I thought ‘par’ meant a kind of average score, and felt quite happy about being average after only one year. Of course, I was playing every day, mainly because I thought the game was so much fun and it really was a nice break from work.” “Well,” I said, “that sounds wonderful. What’s the problem?” “Well, I got to thinking about what my friends had said and decided maybe they were right. It would be a nice way to make a living, doing what I enjoyed the most, so I began taking lessons and working on the mechanics of my swing. To make a long story short, my problem over the last four years is that I haven’t broken eightyfive once and don’t enjoy the game anymore. I’ve tried everything, and nothing has worked. I’m very frustrated.” “There’s no way we can ever recover lost innocence, is there?” I said.

MY STORY Jack Nicklaus6 “Jack,” I eventually told myself, “the more you think about money, the less you’re going to think about performance, so forget it. Just get out there and play your hardest. If you play well, the money will follow automatically. … The only way you can influence the money factor one way or the other is by your scores. The less you pressure yourself by thinking about it, the better those scores are likely to be. … Today, I am proud of the fact that I was able to stick with that philosophy through my most productive years, and I am sure it will prevail as long as I keep playing. And I am certain it is why I love what I do so much.” “Counting your chickens at golf ahead of the final stroke is always foolish and frequently dangerous in that, almost without fail, it produces defensive play.” “Once a golfer has developed and ingrained a fundamentally sound method, by far the biggest mountain he has left to climb is learning how to win.” “Perhaps my greatest inherent gift in regard to golf is the ability to compartmentalize my mind, to switch it at will totally from one activity or concern to another, then, for the required duration of the new focus, blank everything else out 100 percent. … I can wrap myself in a cocoon that is virtually impregnable until the round ends and it becomes time to click the switch to another activity. Sometimes the cocoon becomes so all-enveloping that it takes quite a period of winding down for me to break free of it, which is one reason I so often go to the practice tee after a round.”

REFERENCES 1 Arnold Palmer, A Personal Journey, San Francisco 1994 2 Patrick J. Cohn, The Mental Game of Golf, 1994 3 Fred Shoemaker, Extraordinary Golf, 1996 4 Author of Golf in the Kingdom and founder of the Esalen Institute in California 5 Timothy Gallwey, The Inner Game of Golf, 1981 6 Jack Nicklaus, My Story, 1997

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The word “serendipity” was first coined by British author Horace Walpole in the 18th century. It is derived from Serendip, the former name of the country of Ceylon, now Sri Lanka. While the contemporary definition of serendipity is given as “the facility to discover by accident,” Walpole’s original use in his work The Three Princes from Serendip referred to knowledge or insight gained “through a combination of accident and sagacity.” When applying “serendipity” to the golfer’s experience, we seek to draw from both the original and the newer meanings of the word, and to allude to the combination of sagacity and accident that are necessary for successful play. The Editor wishes to thank the people who made this book possible. First and foremost is renowned golf photographer Brian Morgan. Mr. Morgan, who contributed the book’s color pictures of the Golf & Country Club of Zurich at Zumikon, is the co-author of several prior works, among them A World Portrait of Golf, and Classic Holes of Golf: A Grand Tour of the World’s Most Challenging, Historic, and Beautiful Golf Holes. Mr Morgan’s photographs appear frequently in leading golf magazines, and he is acclaimed for his ability to brilliantly render impressions of being on the world’s leading golf courses. Lastly, thanks go to Libby Halstead for editorial assistance. Her knowledge of German and English helped to convey in words the subtle and many-layered experiences of golfing and investing.

To an almost unimaginable extent, the world today depends on money. But what does that actually mean? Engaging with that question is Sunflower Foundation’s mission.