A book about tennis that is not really about tennis
I recently listened to The Inner Game of Tennis by W. Timothy Gallwey. I’d highly recommend it.
On the surface, it’s a book about tennis. Technique, practice, performance. But it’s not really about tennis at all. It’s about the voice in your head when you’re trying to do something that matters.
It landed because Gallwey describes something I notice at work. The hardest part is often not the task. It’s the commentary running while I’m doing it. The one that questions whether I belong in the room. The one that whispers that I’ve somehow fooled everyone.
Impostor syndrome, basically.
Self 1 and Self 2
Gallwey talks about two selves.
Self 1 is the voice. The judge. The critic. The one that tells you how you should be doing things and points out every mistake.
Self 2 is the doer. The body and mind that actually perform. The part of you that already knows more than you think.
I mapped this onto my own experience at work pretty quickly.
Self 1 is loud when I’m about to present something important. It shows up before a big decision. It appears when I’m stepping into something new. Mine says things like:
You’re not ready.
You’re not as capable as they think.
Soon they will find you out.
Self 2 quietly gets on with it. It solves problems. It writes code. It leads meetings. It learns. It adapts.
That tension feels exactly like impostor syndrome.
Judgement gets in the way
One of the core ideas in the book is that judgement gets in the way of performance.
Not analysis. Not feedback. Judgement.
The constant internal scoring. Good shot. Bad shot. That was stupid. That was clever. Why did you say that? You should know better.
When I feel like an impostor, I’m not lacking skill. I’m drowning in judgement. Every small mistake becomes evidence. Every gap in knowledge becomes proof. I build a case against myself.
Gallwey suggests something simple. Notice what is happening without judgement. Observe the ball. Observe the swing. Observe the result.
At work, that becomes: notice the outcome. Notice the feedback. Notice the facts. Without the story.
That shift alone feels useful.
Trust the part that already knows
Another theme that stayed with me is trust.
Gallwey argues that Self 2 learns naturally when given space. Over-instruction and overthinking get in the way. When we relax our grip, performance often improves.
That goes against how I usually work. I like to prepare, refine, and optimise.
But it rings true.
Some of my best work has happened when I stopped trying to prove myself. When I focused on the problem instead of my reputation. When I trusted that my experience would surface at the right time.
I notice this most clearly in meetings. When Self 1 is in charge, I over-explain. I hedge. I spend half my attention monitoring how I sound. When I drop that and stay with the problem in front of us, the conversation usually goes better. The work gets clearer. So do I.
Impostor syndrome thrives on control. It wants certainty. It wants guarantees. It wants to eliminate the risk of being exposed.
The inner game suggests something else. Pay attention. Practise. Then trust.
What I’m taking from it
I’m not suddenly free from impostor syndrome.
I doubt I ever will be.
But I do have a clearer picture of what is happening when it shows up. It’s not a verdict on my ability. It’s just Self 1 getting noisy.
So the practice becomes simple:
- Notice the voice.
- Reduce the judgement.
- Focus on the task.
- Trust the part of me that already knows how to do the work.
For a book about tennis, that’s quite a return on investment.
I’m glad I listened to it. If the mental noise before important work sounds familiar, it’s worth a read or a listen.