The other day a dear friend called me to ask for my advice on something. Well, not so much advice as they were looking for my take on a situation so that they could measure it against their own ideas and maybe find a solution to an issue they were dealing with.
A trusted confidant
A reliable source
A worthwhile opinion
It's always nice to be thought of in that way, you know?
Except that when it finally came down to listening to the situation and offering my thoughts, everything that came out of my mouth sounded totally stupid. In one fleeting, well-intentioned moment I went from being the person someone could trust with a private matter to the friggin' Chicago Cubs of friendly advice.
It went something like this:
Friend in Need:"I have a big stain on my carpet, what should I do?"
Motard:"Hmm... Have you considered setting your house on fire?"
I mean, all my friends know me well enough to know that I'm not the guy you leave in the room where they keep the global thermonuclear war buttons - but at the same time I'd like to think that I am at least somewhat competent when it comes to helping others to understand things...
But there I was, phone receiver against my ear, spouting gibberish.
It's like I've been so wrapped up in my own things lately that I've become sort of disconnected with friends and things that are important to me. Not that my feelings have changed, but that I'm out of the loop, not wired into all the background data like I have been in the past.
…It's frustrating.
I mean, I'm starting to think that I'm sorta getting the hang of dealing with students and administrators, but it's like I'm still at that 'all or nothing' point. In order for me to do this well, I can't seem to be anything else. Yet what I need more than anything is a release, a sanctuary, a balancing force.
What I need is someone I can confide in.
What I want is someone to want to confide in me.
But If I keep spitting out this Ms. Cleo garbage when people need advice, the odds of that happening are probably pretty slim, you know?
"Oh no no chile, ju don' need heem.
Ju need to leave heem,
Heeesah noo good!"
A trusted confidant
A reliable source
A worthwhile opinion
It's always nice to be thought of in that way, you know?
Except that when it finally came down to listening to the situation and offering my thoughts, everything that came out of my mouth sounded totally stupid. In one fleeting, well-intentioned moment I went from being the person someone could trust with a private matter to the friggin' Chicago Cubs of friendly advice.
It went something like this:
Friend in Need:"I have a big stain on my carpet, what should I do?"
Motard:"Hmm... Have you considered setting your house on fire?"
I mean, all my friends know me well enough to know that I'm not the guy you leave in the room where they keep the global thermonuclear war buttons - but at the same time I'd like to think that I am at least somewhat competent when it comes to helping others to understand things...
But there I was, phone receiver against my ear, spouting gibberish.
It's like I've been so wrapped up in my own things lately that I've become sort of disconnected with friends and things that are important to me. Not that my feelings have changed, but that I'm out of the loop, not wired into all the background data like I have been in the past.
…It's frustrating.
I mean, I'm starting to think that I'm sorta getting the hang of dealing with students and administrators, but it's like I'm still at that 'all or nothing' point. In order for me to do this well, I can't seem to be anything else. Yet what I need more than anything is a release, a sanctuary, a balancing force.
What I need is someone I can confide in.
What I want is someone to want to confide in me.
But If I keep spitting out this Ms. Cleo garbage when people need advice, the odds of that happening are probably pretty slim, you know?
"Oh no no chile, ju don' need heem.
Ju need to leave heem,
Heeesah noo good!"