Why do we stop doing the things we love? One Jewish St. Louis author has an unexpected answer.

Jordan Palmer, Chief Digital Content Officer

Published July 6, 2026

Playing golf alone book Gary Belsky

There was a time when I played a lot of golf.

Not well, mind you. But often.

Then life happened. Marriage, babies, friends moved away. My clubs stayed in the basement more than they made it to the course.

When a TopGolf opened near my south St. Louis neighborhood, I joked more than once that maybe I’d start playing again. The only catch? I’d probably have to go alone.

For some reason, that felt a little sad.

Then learned about Gary Belsky.

Long before he became a founding editor of ESPN The Magazine and the author of nine books, Belsky got his start as a freelance reporter for the St. Louis Jewish Light before joining the St. Louis Business Journal as a staff reporter.

His St. Louis roots run even deeper. He’s an alumnus of H.F. Epstein Hebrew Academy, Ladue Horton Watkins High School and the University of Missouri–St. Louis. He graduated from Ladue in 1983, my freshman year.

He’s also written nine books. His latest, “Solo Golf: The Zen of Playing Alone and How It Can Transform Your Game,” is about playing golf by yourself, but after a few minutes of conversation, it became clear it isn’t really about golf.

The value of going solo

“I think there’s a general need for people to be more mindful in their lives, in terms of work, relationships and, yes, hobbies or passions such as golf,” Belsky said. “We’re all so overstimulated and distracted. Solo golf, like gardening or knitting, is a chance for people to recalibrate by creating what psychologists call a ‘flow state.'”

The former Jewish St. Louisan didn’t set out to write a philosophy book. He wrote about an experience that began almost three decades ago.

“I started playing solo golf 30 years ago, by accident, and then I started doing it every so often because I found it comforting,” he said. “I have no shortage of people to play with. I’m blessed with many friends and nephews and siblings who like to play golf, but sometimes I need the time to myself.”

That distinction matters.

Belsky isn’t arguing that people should replace friendships with solitude. He’s suggesting there’s value in occasionally doing something simply because you enjoy it, without worrying about schedules, expectations or whether someone else is available.

Permission to stop waiting

Why, then, do so many of us hesitate?

“I suspect it’s about norms,” he said. “We’re expected to do certain things with people and many of us are hesitant to break those norms. I also think people assume that if they’re seen dining or bowling or golfing or going to the movies alone then others will think they have no friends.”

His response to my own golf dilemma was immediate.

“If you need someone to play golf with [someone] I will play with you, Jordan,” he said with a laugh. “You seem like a nice fellow and you’re writing about me and my book, so how bad could it be?”

The offer was generous, but it also underscored his point. The goal isn’t to avoid people. It’s to stop waiting for them before doing something you love.

Belsky says readers have understood that message better than he ever expected.

“I have heard more from readers about solo golf than about any other book I’ve written,” he said. “People have been emailing me to tell me they feel seen or understood in a way that they’ve never experienced.”

Many of those readers, it seems, aren’t really talking about golf.

They’re talking about permission.

Permission to stop worrying about what strangers might think. Permission to revisit an old hobby. Permission to spend a few hours alone without feeling lonely.

More than golf

“We become less concerned about externalities and more motivated by intrinsic impulses,” Belsky said. “That is, we start caring about what we actually care about and less about what others think. Sometimes it’s nice to only have to please ourselves.”

His advice for anyone who’s been waiting for the right playing partner, travel companion or concert buddy is refreshingly simple.

“Don’t wait,” he said. “I’m a hyper extrovert. I love being with people and I draw energy from them, but sometimes we can do our best thinking, we can be the best version of ourselves, when we have a solo practice of some kind or another. Golf, coding, writing, bird watching—it doesn’t matter. The idea is to be comfortable with ourselves, with no judge or jury except our own heart and mind.”

As for me?

I still haven’t made it to TopGolf.

But now, if I go by myself, I don’t think I’ll see it as playing alone.

I’ll just be getting started.