Polaris
There are many men in my life who have been valuable resources of information, help, guidance and strength. My first two antagonists (I mean beloved fountains of wisdom) are my two brothers Jason and Elvin. My nearest sibling is five years older and the eldest of our little tribe is four years older than him. We have a lovely pictures snapped by my mom that captures our triangular forever relationship perfectly.
Me, maybe 11 or 12 months old, in a floral dress and bloomers, arms outstretched, with a delighted drooling smile on my face taking my first steps! Elvin having launched me toward Jason in mid-cheer, excited and encouraging and Jason, arms coaxing with outstretched waiting to receive me. All three of us. Frozen in time. 1985. Ecstatic and jubilant. As I grew, my first playmates and idols took the lead when my parents gave them charge over me. I could tag along - but I had to be “cool” with Elvin’s friends and “quiet” with Jason’s friends. I went along though because I was NOT to be left out and I didn’t really have a choice. The valuable learning was that I got to observe how the “big kids” act.
As we grew older, Jason turned more into another parent, he could drive first, so he would ferry me to sewing lessons, or piano lessons or whatever after school activities my mom and dad had me running to. Elvin, always the avid reader and music aficionado, introduced me to Judy Blume and the great joy of words, even though now I know he cast me as The Pain and himself as The Great One - in the self same titled book which was hilarious!
Roles evolved again much later as Elvin told me to get rid of/over a guy I had a crush on during a ping pong game on the back patio on some spring break and Jason would call me, as I was crouched in a silent stairway before my increasingly treacherous law school exams when my dad was too busy with work to give me words of encouragement and pray my nerves away.
Yesterday, I met with new friends, Marco Sommer and his family in Fribourg, Switzerland. Starting with a walking tour around the hilly, diverse and quietly bustling university town it was a day of promptings through hard questions which led to a lot of reflection. With so much food for thought, on the sweaty train ride home, I wrote some notes and thought a lot about all the great men who have taken time, energy and effort to help me on my journey. While Marco is a career strategist by trade, his warm and easy approach made me feel like I was talking to an old friend. A truly rare and wonderful quality. Some the questions he asked which still have me reflecting are:
Which level in my career do I think I need to feel validated?
Why is that title/level so important to me?
What is the feeling that I’m looking for on a day-to-day basis?
These and other questions and the conversation around the questions led me to think about the polishing I could and need to do in order to maximize my strengths and minimize my weaknesses.
I cannot think about guidance and coaching without giving my dad, my most consistent and devoted coach, his due! As someone who grew up playing sports and in a sporting household one MUST revisit the most basic techniques, and that requires coaching. Marco reminded me of this yesterday. You must know in which direction to point your feet, its not necessarily the known point but your guiding star - your Polaris. Sometimes getting back to the basics and honing those fine skills are just what is needed to locate Polaris - yet again. It made me think of the last time my dad physically coached me. A visit to the local batting cages saw me swing for air 30, yes, 3 times 10, 3-0 pitches in a row! My dad quietly watched. He didn’t say a word. My frustration was mounting. What happened? I used to be “someone” on the softball field. And now… well, nothing. Giving me the money for the next 30 pitches, my dad snapped into coach mode.
“Okay, your timing is off. Put your foot down sooner.”
Two or three swings went down fruitless.
“Florie! Put your foot DOWN!”
Now this may not mean much to you. But I knew just what he meant. I got a hit. Then another. I relaxed and soon my dad was instructing me to direct my hits. Pull it to right field etc. and just like that I was in the flow - again. Coach dad to the rescue. I’m lucky, I realize that I’ve had a dad through my 38 years who has guided me so consistently even if its simply to bear witness to the journey and wait for my frustration to mount before coaching me through.
To the many men in my life who have done their part to guide me (most recently a super dad - Marco Sommer). I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Do you have a great coach in your life? When is the last time you got some needed guidance? Are your feet pointing in the direction of your North Star? Do you even know what it is? Please share a line of advice or a reflection prompt you’ve received from your coach. Perhaps you have some other thoughts. Don’t be shy! Lets discuss in the comment section below!