As a career coach I witness many people grapple with the prospect of disappointment. The struggle to decide which path to step on to. The sacred grappling of life's decisions. Here is a story of one of those brave souls on the journey, Zinnia. “I’m going to disappoint you. But you knew that already,” I state firmly.
I recall the last time Zinnia sat before me begging for a clear, practical, and definitive answer. I finally had to be blunt with her, “We don’t sell that here. You have come to the wrong place.” Zinnia left despondent but the good news is that she is back. Her eyes long for some compassion, “Please just tell me what to do.” Zinnia is brilliant and excels in all she does. Without effort she masterfully turns out research papers, computes calculus problems and tackles chemistry labs. We rerun the script again. “Tell me about the classes you are in right now,” I say routinely. “Well, I have a costume design class – and I LOVE it!” She says as she tugs on her custom made skirt with bold colors and patters so mesmerizing that they demand the world to pay attention. “I am also in computer science,” Zinnia’s voice seems to disappear as she speaks these words. As if her actual soul is being squeezed out of her at the acknowledgement that she is actually taking this course. “And English,” she finds her voice again, although she still appears distant from the words that escape her lips. She has to think hard to remember the other classes she is in. Just moments ago, before she plopped down in my office she was sitting in one of those nameless classes. “Oh, I remember, Economics and History,” Zinnia’s shoulders drop and relax as she exhales a sigh of relief. It is as if she has just run a marathon trying to come up with that list. Zinnia is not the only nineteen-year-old floating around looking for meaning, direction and purpose. In fact, each year there are hundreds who sit in that very chair. Some days I even sit there. It is clear what makes her heart sing and brings her joy but my training keeps me from shoving it down her throat. I am supposed to shut up, get out of her way and let her come to it on her own. “Tell me about what keeps you from majoring in Theatre?” I ask slowly trying not to let on to my fatigue. She is silent. Then she breathes out the honest, uninspired answer, “I am afraid I can’t find a job when I graduate and my dad really wants me to go into Finance like him.” There she said it. “Give me the best reasons for why you should major in Theatre,” I dare her. Her eyes light up, she wiggles her body upright as if she was just given a boost of helium under her chair, “Well…,” She can’t decide if she wants to take the leap or not. For some reason it is easier for her to be more honest about the reasons she hates Finance than why she loves Theatre. It is almost as if she would betray her own flesh and blood by simply admitting to what she really feels. “What would your life be like if you decided on Theatre?” I try re-framing the question to give her another opportunity, another view. I can see in her eyes that she is saying the same words I said to her just minutes before. “I’m going to disappoint you. But you knew that already." The only thing is I can’t tell who she is saying these words to. It isn’t clear. Is she whispering them to me? Is she choking them down as she says them to herself? Is she saying them to her father? Is she screaming them to everyone who has EVER told her to be something she was not? I wait. I wait to see who she will say these words to. It is inevitable - she must ultimately say them to someone. With each breath and every ounce of my being I beg and plead. Say it to anyone, disappoint whoever you need to, but please just don’t say those words to the beautiful flower before me. Please don’t say them to Zinnia, she is on the verge of blooming and this flower promises to be bold, aromatic and inspirational.
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AuthorSome times I write. Even less than "some" times I share what I write. For those moments that I write and want to share I have done so here. Archives
December 2017
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