On the Trail to Tranquility
Conventional wisdom in poker is to detach yourself from your results and from your emotions – to focus only on your strategy.
But I think that’s wrong – It’s okay to be sad about losing.
I'm bringing this up today because, if you're like me, I want you to stop being so hard on yourself.
I’d like to differentiate between a realization I had many years ago, about handling emotion at the poker tables, and one I just had recently about life away from the tables.
At the Poker Table
Early in my career, I was taught by the Sklansky books and the forum posts to be purely logical.
So I always strived to have a strong mindset at the poker table. I’d pretend while I played that I had no attachment to the outcome – no fear. And I believed it!
It wasn’t until years later that I realized I’d been ignoring the emotions I felt and that they were driving my decisions at the table.
Acknowledging those emotions and bringing my awareness to them allowed me to identify when I was feeling excitement, frustration, fear, anxiety… and it allowed me to make adjustments.
Maybe I need a break.
Maybe I should call it a day.
Do I think a checkback here is the right play, or am I afraid to bluff?
Once I allowed myself to feel what I was feeling, my game and results improved.
Away from the Poker Table
I’ve strived to have a balanced life, not only in terms of the time I gave to things outside of poker, but also with the aim of not making poker my whole life emotionally.
I used to think, “If you’re losing at poker and it makes you feel like you’re losing at life, you need some perspective or you need more in your life.”
My goal was to remain as close to emotionally neutral as possible.
An early mentor of mine, Tommy Angelo, has an adage that I love:
Why would I get upset when my flight gets delayed? That’s one of the main things that flights do!
So why would I get upset when I go on a downswing? That’s one of the main types of swings there are!
I love this framing and approach, and for many years, I’ve aimed to live by it. I’ve aimed to be unaffected by the swings of poker, especially once I leave the tables and go back into “the real world.”
Losing is part of the game.
I know that. I accept that.
It’s a very common, expected result. So I shouldn’t let poker results impact me, my mood, or my behavior away from the table. If I ever do, I view it as a failure.
At least, this is how I felt until just a few months ago…
A Different Voice
At the end of last year, I ran a group coaching program for the very first time.
When you have several students, you begin to notice common themes. And sometimes, it can illuminate something you didn’t realize when looking at it from your own perspective.
During a coaching session, a student was talking about a rough downswing and how it was impacting him in between sessions.
He was asking me and the others how we got over it and kept poker “at the table.”
How did we go back to our lives, and to our families, and bring our best selves when things were going so poorly?
As he spoke, I first started digging into my mind for methods and techniques I’ve used to stay calm, or to get over losses.
But then I paused and thought more critically about what he was saying.
What I heard beneath his words was:
“What’s wrong with me that I can’t do this?”
I related to it. I’d felt the same way many times.
Why can’t I shake this? Why am I letting the game impact my mood outside of it? Come on, Phil – you’re stronger than this.
… aren’t you?
But hearing a voice outside of my own head say the same thing felt different.
And something clicked for me.
A New Outlook
For nearly 20 years, I beat myself up for not meeting my sky-high standards.
Yes, we know it’s not helpful to wallow in self-pity and blame things outside our control. Tommy is absolutely right.
But we also need to accept our humanity.
Tommy aims to approach unshakeability, and he’s a lot closer to it than most of us will ever be.
In my view, Tommy’s words are there to give you perspective, and to move you closer to being unshakeable.
But we aren’t fully enlightened. We still feel things that we wish we didn’t.
In the same way I realized I should let my feelings in at the table many years ago, leaning in and feeling everything away from the table is healthier and more fruitful than ignoring those feelings and wishing them away.
Continue to work towards unshakeability and fully experience whatever emotion remains.
As I told my student that day, “It’s okay to be sad about losing. Losing for a long time sucks. You’re not supposed to be happy about it. You’re not supposed to be indifferent.”
And there is nothing wrong with you.
