TRANQUILITY

by John
Vorhaus

Are you tranquil when you play poker? Are you calm and placid in your seat, with the keen concentration of a clear and focused mind? Or are you in turmoil, all sweats and fidgets and clenchy teeth? If you don't have tranquility in a poker game, obviously, you lose much to opponents who do, because their perceptions and decisions will remain crisp and unfiltered, while you will be perpetually perceptually clouded by your own anxiety and fear.

Fear. Fear is a tough concept. While it would be nice to say, "Never play poker when you feel fear," there's a problem with that, for a little fear is actually a healthy thing. It keeps you focused on playing your best game. This is why you see some high-limit players do so poorly when they slum around in low-limit games. They have no fear. They can't possibly lose (or win) enough in this teeny game to make a difference. So they play without fear but also without caution. Sure they're fearless, but it's the wrong kind of fearless. It's "careless fearless" because the outcome doesn't matter.

So you have to care about the outcome in order to play your best game. But doesn't it follow that if you care about the outcome, then you must fear bad outcomes? Not necessarily. Not, certainly, if you are able to draw this distinction: Care about the outcome without becoming hooked on the outcome. Want to win, desire to win, certainly strive to win - but don't need to win in order to feel good about yourself. 

What's your "home limit"? Where do you feel utterly comfortable and at ease when you play? Do you, for example, feel naturally tranquil playing $4-8 limit? If so, you can buy in for a couple hundred bucks, knowing that it won't be the end of the world (or even the end of the week) if you lose your whole buy-in during the session you play today. Safe within the confines of your home limit, you're prepared to play with tranquility, and even prepared to lose with tranquility (though of course you have no intention of losing). This leaves you free to concentrate on the only thing that matters: playing your best game. Win or lose, if you can walk away from the table confident that you did your best, then you are detached from outcome. Consequences no longer matter to you. Only process matters to you. And you have achieved tranquility.

"In the presence of fear, nothing is possible; in the absence of fear, everything is possible." So therefore you must come to the table fear-free - though not, as we've already discussed, care-free. Have the commitment to play perfect poker, plus the tranquility to accept bad outcomes.

You will not be surprised to discover, I'm sure, that this commitment plus this tranquility actually trends you toward good outcomes and away from bad ones. Your commitment to perfect poker keeps you from making bad plays, the kind of bonehead nonsense that costs you plenty when you're just screwing around. And your tranquility in the face of possible adverse outcomes will help you make the most (through fearless aggressive betting) of situations where you have the best of it. Further, your utter detachment from outcome will keep you from going on tilt when foolish little luck turns against you. 

Do I imagine that you have become a charming little Buddha, sitting lotus-like in your seat, keeping your head while all those around you are losing theirs? You bet your Buddhist little butt I do. If I found you in that perfectly calm, perfectly zen state of mind, I would be perfectly terrified of playing against you, and perfectly justified in feeling that way. So come on, impress me with your peace of mind.

Or, on the other hand, doubt me, foolish doubter. Tell me that you think it's the hotheads who prosper in poker because their hot heads give them the table presence required to dominate the game. Maybe, I reply. Maybe, maybe, and once more for good measure, maybe. But look around the table you're playing at now and consider the state of mind of the big winners. Are the players with the tall stacks all stressed out and apprehensive? Of course they not stressed out, you reply, they've got the tall stacks! I say you have it exactly backward: They've got the big stacks because they're not stressed out. They're free from worry, and thus free to concentrate on playing perfect poker.

It's zen, of course it's zen, and in the manner of all good zen, the logic of it starts to chase its own tail. In order to be a winner, you have to be calm. But in order to be calm, you have to be free from fear. And in order to be free from fear, you have to disconnect from the need to be a winner. You succeed, in sum, by not trying to succeed. How confusing is that?

But confusion is the soul of understanding, so pay close attention now: Success is measured in process, not product. Have perfect process and you have success, regardless of the size of your stack. It just so happens that perfect process leads to large stacks, but that's just a residual benefit of playing clear-headed poker in a tranquil, peaceful state. 

Stop measuring your stack! Stop worrying about whether you're ahead or behind for this session or this week or this month or this year. That's the only way you'll ever get free from the anxiety that's tying you down and infecting your game with the virus of fear. I can't put it any clearer than that. 

Or yes I can: You're born broke, you die broke and everything else is just fluctuation. So the next time you play, try this: Don't stack your chips at all. Just leave them in a big, garbagy, uncountable pile in front of you. The less you care about the size of that pile, the higher the pile will grow.