Justin Langer: Don’t downplay what your achievements in an age where we’re told to keep chasing the next goal

One of the biggest mistakes a sportsperson can make is looking over their shoulder. Constant worry about the person who might take their spot, focussing on what selectors might be thinking, analysing the words of a critic they have never met, or stressing about the failures of the past. When you are looking over your shoulder, your mind is muddled and the ball — whatever shape, size or colour, evaporates into the size of a pea. In this state, the finishing line dissolves into a never-ending hallucination like you would have in a bad dream. Focus on what is right in front of you is the key to high performance. But a sentence given to me over coffee last Saturday morning has had me reflecting all week. It was said by a mate of mine, a wise old bloke of 80 who I have known since I was in primary school, and who built one of this country’s great construction businesses from nothing. We were talking about life, the way you do when the coffee is good, the dogs are running around and there’s a game of amateur footy going on in the background, when he leaned in and said something that stopped me. “If I have one regret in my life,” he said. “It’s that I never spent any time looking back at what I achieved.” Here is a man who built a company that employed hundreds of people, who shaped skylines and families and a whole industry, and the thing he would change is that he never paused to really enjoy it. He was always looking forward to the next site, the next contract, the next problem to solve. The treadmill kept rolling and he kept running, and somewhere in all that forward motion he forgot to turn around and take it in. When I rang him on Wednesday, to pick his brain a little more, he said to me: “I don’t have any regrets as such, but sometimes I think I could have taken a bit more time to reflect on some of those great professional and personal achievements my family and I have achieved.” The more I have thought about it, I realise, I know exactly what he is talking about. I suspect most of us do. We live in an age that worships the next thing. Always look forward we are told, always strive for more, always aim for the upgrade. There is pressure in this, while it can also serve us well. And there is a strange wisdom we have absorbed about the past, most of it warning us to stay away from it. The likes of Marcus Aurelius and Seneca taught that the past is gone and beyond our control, so to grieve over it is to waste good energy on something we cannot change. There is a line from Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu that I have always loved: “If you are depressed you are living in the past, if you are anxious you are living in the future, if you are at peace you are living in the present.” I think it’s true. To a degree. When I have been at my lowest, it has almost always been because I haven’t been able to let go of something behind me, or fearing something that may lie ahead. The present moment, the ball in front of me, the next act, has been a way of saving me from both. But my old friend’s coffee remark, has me thinking there is another side to this coin, because the truth is, not all looking back is dwelling or regretting. There is a difference between living in the past and learning from it. There is a difference between being trapped by yesterday and being strengthened by it. So perhaps the trick is not whether you look back, but how. Do we see the past as a prison cell or a well from which can draw wisdom, knowledge, memories and lessons. I was challenged on this three times in the last week. All in the oddest of ways. The first from my mate’s simple remark. The second, when an old cricket mate who I hadn’t seen for years and ran into in town, greeted me with a grin and said: “There he is. You used to be Justin Langer didn’t you.” He meant it warmly (I think), but you can take a line like those two ways. You can hear it as a gentle dig, a reminder that the spotlight has moved on. Today’s achievements not as great as yesterdays. Or you can hear it as a compliment for a life that has been full enough to be remembered at all. Then my great friend Geoff Marsh sent me a YouTube clip. It was of the Welsh rugby team and every single supporter in the stadium belting out their national anthem; their voices raised the roof and the hair on the back of my neck. If you haven’t seen it, find it. It is very cool and very uplifting. Swampy’s message underneath was pure him: “You reckon you’d hit that first ball for four after this?” My cheeky reply was: “The Boxing Day Test match mate. How lucky that we have both experienced that in our lives.” He shot straight back: “So true.” That little exchange, just two old mates sharing some inspiring entertainment, is an example of looking back, even if it was only for a few minutes. We were not living in the past. We were not pining for it or trying to climb back into it. We were standing in the present and letting the past do what the past does best, which is remind us how fortunate we have been, how much we have shared, how much we have learned and how much strength we can draw from a life well lived. The roar of the MCG on Boxing Day is gone the moment it happens. But it’s not lost. It lives in us, and on the days the world feels heavy, it can lift you back onto your feet, as great memories can. Society forgets quickly. It always has. The crowd moves on to the next name, the next moment, the next business, the next clip, the next boss. That’s just how it works. But the thing my old friend was really trying to tell me over that coffee was that if the world is going to forget, then the very least we can do is not forget ourselves. To occasionally turn around, take stock, and let us feel some pride in the road behind us, is not arrogance and it is not living in the past. It is gratitude. It is good for the soul. It allows you to live in the present, and into the future, with a fuller tank, and re-charged batteries. This week, I have tried to live in the moment as much as possible, but every now and then, I did as my wise old friend suggested, and looked at what I have built, remembered the friends, the wins, the songs in the stadium. With every memory I felt a little taller and a lot prouder. Always remember, you did not just “used to be someone”. You still are. You always will be. The past is proof, if you choose to look at it the right way. PS: To the man who road passed me on Saturday morning and told me he read my column each week and loved the beard and hippie month concept, you made my day.