Swing… Hit : Leading in the Space Between
You’re standing on the tee.
Club in hand. Still. Centred. Or at least trying to be.
There’s quiet all around, but inside? Noise.
Not shouting.
Not panic. Just… a cluttered hum.
Memories of past swings.
The weight of this hole.
The meeting that didn’t go how you wanted.
The stakes you’ve layered onto this moment.
The fairway’s open. The shot’s straightforward.
And yet…
You can feel the smallness of the margin.
How little it takes to send the whole thing off line.
You’ve played this game long enough to know: The swing isn’t everything. And neither is the hit.
It’s what happens just before. The space you enter between intention and contact. A kind of stillness. A kind of tension.
Sometimes you fill it with breath. Other times with judgement.
Sometimes it’s where trust lives. Other times, where it disappears.
Sometimes you start to try, to force the shot and the ball to where you want it to go
That space? That’s where leadership happens.
It’s not the public moment. It’s not what people applaud or assess.
It’s the quiet, internal recalibration where instinct, history, pressure, and presence collide in a fraction of a second.
You can’t stay there for long. But you can pass through it clean.
If you’re ready.
If you’re honest.
If you’re not just swinging out of habit.
And maybe you’ve noticed this, too:
That the longer you’ve played, the more experience you gain, the more the game becomes internal.
Fewer fireworks. More precision. More responsibility. Less margin for error. And still… the desire to feel that sweet connection again.
Not just between club and ball. But between identity and action. Presence and movement. Head, heart, and hands.
This is the paradox of the game of golf.
To act with commitment in the face of uncertainty. To lead under pressure without forcing it. To let go of control without losing direction.
And in the game of business, just like in golf, that space is where the real work happens.
Not in the metrics. Not in the meeting. Not in the result.
But in the moments just before the movement.
That’s why The Alchemists exist. Not to teach the swing. Not to judge the hit. But to hold the space in between.
The space where clarity returns. Where rhythm is restored. Where the leader inside the person gets to breathe.
We hold the space between the swing and the hit. In golf. In business. In leadership. In life.
So when you are standing there, staring down the fairway, trying to find your rhythm through the noise >
Remember:
It’s not about the perfect swing. It’s not about the result.
It’s about how you meet the space between.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the shot that changes everything.