Confrontational Coffee Chats

Avoidance caught up with me today, but not quite how I'd expected.

A friend and I got together for coffee. Sitting across from me in his kitchen, he looked at me over his mug and I looked down into mine. He'd just asked me a great question, for which I told him I didn't have an answer. But I did.

Shifting in my seat, I withdrew my right hand from where it'd been cradling my coffee mug and quickly replaced it with my left. I'd replied out of reflex. After digesting what he'd asked, and confronting the real answer I'd brushed past, I let out a sigh and looked up.

"That's not true" I'd told him.

While mining my own thoughts for what I'd been leaving out, I actually found comfort in how quickly I'd called myself on my own bullshit. Just as quickly, I noted that I'd been able to find words to describe it to him. Not bad. I searched his eyes, finding only curiosity and encouragement. I feared there'd be judgement or jeering somewhere in there. Which, was a total projection—he'd never given me reason to think he'd be anything other than accepting. It's just that his question had struck a nerve. It was me who was judging and jeering at myself.

Taking a sip of coffee, I faced my insecurity and coaxed it into taking a break. I'd asked for my friend's advice and he'd let me talk through what I'd been wrestling with. I told him how I was considering a pretty big pivot; or, at least that I was open to one. Career, life, all of it. I felt too close to be able to see things truly objectively, but still I had a hunch my skills could transfer beyond marketing and writing. His question caught my attention. Today, he surfaced an idea that I can't put back in the bottle.

"I think you'd make a damn good therapist" he'd said. "Would you ever consider switching careers to do that?"

Wow.

Yes I would consider it... I'm considering it right now. What's three years of difficulty for a better 30 after that?