There’s a great golf course in south Georgia that carries an amazing yet simple tag line: “Nobody Cares.” It’s the kind of place where nobody keeps track of their score. My kind of place. The admonition suggests that you should be enjoying the course, your friends, and the weather. And not worrying about the score. Why? Because nobody cares…but you.
Much of golf, and life, is spent as if someone is watching, evaluating, keeping track of your score. They aren’t. The simple truth is that nobody is paying attention to you because, you guessed it, they’re too busy worrying about themselves. If that’s true, then why does it seem to take a lifetime to understand? In your 20s you care what everyone thinks…in your 30s you start to question it…in your 40s you notice most people are focused on their own wins and losses. By the time you reach your 50s, you should start to realize nobody was ever thinking about you to begin with. Like coming to the realization late in life that professional wrestling is fake.
For a long time, you assume there’s a scoreboard somewhere. That your wins, losses, bad decisions, status, relationships, etc. are being tracked. That every so often “people” look at the score. You and I have been thinking this way since we were eating paste in Pre-K. We choose careers for how they look to others. Then we stay in them long after they serve us. You choose friends based on what it says about you. Then you keep them long after the lipstick is off the pig. You choose romantic partners based on how they look and not how they make you feel. Then stay in the relationship too long to avoid being single. The simple truth is that most of your stress comes from people and paths you should’ve let go of much earlier. Good riddance.
Imagine coming to the realization that nobody cares when you’re laid up in hospice. That you’ve lived your entire life for the applause of the fans. Only to find that even the cheap seats are empty. The “nobody cares” mantra is even tougher for younger folks to accept, particularly when so much of their lives are lived on display, constantly seeking affirmation and seeking moments to share on social media. The worst is the LinkedIn post from someone with 18 months of experience: “I’m excited to announce that I have been asked to join the esteemed firm of Do-wee, Cheatem & How as a Junior Associate. In this role I will be leveraging my Merger & Acquisition experience with multi-national.…” Someone should call him and nicely suggest that nobody cares. Not to be mean, but to save him thirty or forty years of thinking somebody does.
It’s just how it works. People are occupied with their own lives, their own concerns, their own version of the same invisible scoreboard. The attention you imagined was never really there in the way you thought. If no one is keeping score, it doesn’t mean nothing matters. It just means the metrics change. Would you have chosen the same schools, careers, friends, and jobs? Would you have moved here? Would you have dated the same people or married the same person(s)? Probably not. Isn’t it interesting how clear the answers are when you realize that nobody cares?
Of course, you can’t go back and re-trade those decisions. They are already baked into the cake. So, what’s the point? The point is you aren’t finished yet. And when you finally accept that nobody cares, something shifts. It means you start caring about the right things, the things that Arthur Brooks calls the keys to a happy life: faith, family, friends, and work that serves others.
It’s about deciding what and who you want. About friendships that don’t feel one-sided. About doing work that serves others. About a life that, if no one ever saw it, would still be pleasing to you.
The only person who ever really kept score…was you. So, you might as well keep a different score. Or better yet—put the tiny golf pencil down entirely. Because nobody cares.
Even though nobody really cares, I still want to hear from you. You can reach me at [email protected]. I promise you’ll hear back from me.
