The hug was unexpected.
I was standing on the passenger side of my truck when my neighbor, Jason, had said, "hey, one more thing..."
Backing into the driveway, I'd seen him standing there all bundled up with his bike. He looked like he was cold and dying to get inside. However chilly he may have been, he waited. I'd rolled my window down for what I figured would be a brief hello.
"I hear you're moving," he'd said.
Head tilted slightly to the side, he'd asked it like a question. Mostly, it'd sounded like an invite to share more if I wanted to. So I told him that, yep, I'm moving—that I'll still be in Vermont, and that I'm actually pivoting out of my marketing career to pursue a master's in counseling so I can become a licensed therapist. His eyes had widened at that. Then they'd softened a bit and his head had tipped forward while his affable grin became a toothy, full-faced beaming smile.
I'm smiling back, and I can feel it in my eyes.
I can also feel it in the absence of any chest-clampage.
In the past, my heart-rate would normally spike when talking about my job. Or, I guess, when talking about work in general. I'd worry about explaining what it is, exactly, that I did in the world of marketing strategy and software automation. I'd picture confused expressions, and feel a layer of sludge forming between my ribs, as I envisioned bushwhacking through that job description as quickly as fucking possible.
But none of that happened in the driveway.
Maybe it'll never be something I have to wrestle with ever again.
"That's so fantastic, Derek," Jason had said. He'd even added some stuff about how, when I first moved in, he remembered thinking my heart wasn't quite in the work I was doing. We'd chatted about that a bit, he'd wished me well, and I'd told him to go enjoy the hot tea waiting for him inside. I figured that was it. I mean, not *it* as in it was nothing... but like, that our interaction was done.
So while I was grabbing a bag from the passenger's side door of my truck, I was surprised to see Jason with his arm half raised. After hitting me with a "hey, one more thing..." he'd said that I have a really kind and grounded demeanor—that it's the kind of thing that creates trust—and that he thinks I’ll make a great therapist. I'd told him I think I want to work with teens and young adults. I'd said I hope to offer an alternative form of masculinity to some of the alpha-male bullshit that's seeping through the algorithms.
Now he's giving me a hug and I'm at a loss for words.
It's a real hug, too—with both arms and a squeeze.
* * *
What do you say when "thank you" doesn't feel like enough?
Because I have no idea.
onward.
For more on this daily column, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.