The Practice Swing: Rethinking Ritual, Reclaiming Presence

Part 1: The Sports We Know

In reactive sports like baseball and cricket, the rehearsal swing is essential.

Why? Because once the ball is in motion, there’s no time to think. A batter has milliseconds to respond. The practice swing becomes a fast, instinctive rehearsal of rhythm, motion, and timing. It’s the only window to sync mind and body before reacting.

In kicking a soccer ball or rolling a bowling ball, players may take a small feel-based movement — maybe a short step or glance — but it’s not ritualized. They usually just feel the motion, align to the target, and act. The body knows what to do.

Now take tennis — especially during live play:

There’s no rehearsal swing before each shot.

Preparation happens on the move: footwork, positioning, balance.

The swing itself is reactive and felt, not pre-rehearsed.

That contrast is key.

In golf, the ball doesn’t move. The target is fixed. There’s no opponent or time pressure. Yet most players still take practice swings — often out of habit, not intention.

So the question becomes: If time isn’t the pressure, why are we rehearsing? What exactly are we trying to confirm — or control?

Part 2: Golf as Kyudo — The Art of the Release

This is where Kyudo, the Japanese art of archery, offers a powerful metaphor.

In Kyudo, the act of shooting the arrow is not about aiming or hitting a target. It’s about how you show up for the process — the stance, the breath, the alignment, the draw. The actual release is a byproduct of correct presence and preparation. Hitting the target is incidental.

Golf shares this potential.

If the setup is complete — alignment, posture, clarity of intent — then the swing is simply what happens. There's no effort to make it happen; it arises from the state you’ve built.

My Process: Setup, Not Swing

This is how I approach a shot when I intend to hit a draw:

I begin in the think box — where decisions are made. I visualize the shape, pick a start line, and build my setup: feet aligned, clubface adjusted, path planned. Then I take one rehearsal swing — not to go through the motions, but to feel: Does this match what I pictured? If it does, I cross into the play box.

But here’s the key:

Once I step into the play box, I’m no longer committed to the draw. I’m not thinking about the ball flight or outcome. My full commitment is to my 3-step setup process — the thing I’ve trained, internalized, and trust. That’s where all my attention goes: each move, each adjustment, fully felt. The result is just the echo of that process.

This mindset mirrors Kyudo. The archer doesn’t focus on hitting the target — they focus on the form, the breath, the release. The shot takes care of itself.

Internal Awareness in the Setup

What makes this process powerful is not just what it looks like — but what it feels like from within.

I center my awareness in the dantian — the lower abdomen — grounding intention in the body’s true center. I keep my solar plexus open — relaxed, not guarded — allowing breath and emotional space. I feel the scapulae — not tense or lifted, but gently anchored to support a natural, fluid arm motion.

These aren’t mystical ideas — they’re physical gateways to presence. When I’m aware of these, the swing doesn’t need to be managed. It becomes the natural consequence of a well-prepared state.

Closing Thought

In reactive sports, the rehearsal swing is the only preparation. In golf, like in Kyudo, the swing is a release — not an act of control. If your process is complete, if your internal state is ready, you don’t need to do the swing.

You just let it happen.

Postscript: Why I Don’t Take a Practice Swing Anymore

Most pros do take practice swings — and usually with intention. They’re rehearsing a shot shape, a sensation, a trained feel. There’s history behind their movement.

But most amateurs? They copy the motion without the meaning. I know — because I used to do it. Back then, I’d swing to look the part. To pretend I knew what I was doing. To fake a little confidence when I didn’t have any.

Now, I don’t bother.

My trust and confidence come from being involved with my 3-step setup process.

I don’t need to create a feeling or project one. I just stay with the breath, with each move, each small part of the setup. Whatever happens with the shot — it’s okay. Because I know I stayed with the process.

Even If I Look Like a Mental Case

Despite how I may look from the outside — no practice swing, calm and still — I stay with the process.

Especially when others are watching, I sometimes hear that little voice: “Do I look weird? Too slow? Too serious?”

And maybe I do. Maybe to some, I look like a mental case. But I’ve made peace with that.

I’d rather look odd and feel clear than look cool and feel lost.

I’m not here to perform confidence. I’m here to be present.

That’s enough for me.