Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Does It Really Look Like I Know What I'm Doing? (I Don't)

There's been a few instances where a few of my friends have asked me for advice.  It's happened at least twice now, and if you wanna count Wella's bright-eyed badger class,  three times (though since there were at least twelve of them in that class, maybe more).

And oh gosh, do I worry.  I mean, I worry anyway, because the world is the way it is now, and I think us as a society is going downhill, and I thought this way long before EW did a cover story on Joss Whedon where he says the same thing.

Yes, I am a Christian, and yes, I do my small part to try and make life less horrible for people where I can.  But I still think people are getting dumber, and Congress has forgotten how to be civil and work together, and nobody is teaching anyone how to write in cursive anymore and if we don't have good penmanship, people, then WHAT DO WE HAVE!?


Anyhow, so people are asking me for advice on jobs, on careers, on relationships, and my first response was clearly, Whoa, what makes you think I know anything.

Then the next realization is, actually, I think I do know something.

Then shit, how do they know I know something?

And uh oh, my mistakes have been really public, huh?

Finally nope, I think I'm just old.

I'm old.  OLD.  I'm old and the people around me know I'm old, and therefore I must have learned something simply because I'm OLD.

I mean, a nicer way to phrase it could be WISE.  I'm WISE because I've lived through and survived a bunch of different situations.

But I don't think that makes me WISE so much as TENACIOUS.  Like a cockroach.  I simply refuse to let go of the rock I've been clinging to for how many years now.

I still hold to that as my personal mantra:  nobody ever got anywhere by giving up.

Unless you're talking about grudges and assorted chips on shoulders.

ha ha ha.

Anyhow, so people think I know things, and they trust me enough to ask me for advice and know that I'm not gonna go blab it all over the internet so let me just tell you what they emailed me about... KIDDING.

I dunno, I mean, I guess I’m flattered that they think I’m old/wise/tenacious enough to have salient advice for them.  But I also feel like gripping their arm and saying don’t do what I did!  What I did wasn’t right!  Obviously!  Look at me!  Why are you asking advice from someone who isn’t crazy successful!? 

Oh, right, they probably can’t get to them.  Heh.

Anyhow, it’s interesting how I’ll usually send up a quick prayer before talking to any of these people and saying things like God, if You want these people to hear anything, well, I’m talking to them now.  And it’s not like I’m the authority on anything, so, You know, feel free to step in and say stuff.

But then I realize what I’m really looking for is some kind of out-of-body otherworldly experience, where God’s an alien force possessing me and shooting lights out of my eyes and all of the sudden, I’m saying all the right things, all the things that make SO MUCH SENSE, and OH MY GOSH, AMY, HOW DID YOU GET TO BE SO SMART!?

All because I don’t wanna take responsibility if I happen to give out some bum advice or something.

Needless to say, there have been no alien possessions.  There has been no presence of God taking over my mouth or brain and dispensing perfect pearls of wisdom.

It’s just been me.  Talking about my experiences, which is really all I know.  Oh, I guess I know things like how you’re supposed to act, how you’re supposed to think.  But I rarely do that.  So this is how I bumble through life, tiptoeing along the line of YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO THIS and I DID THIS INSTEAD AND HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED.

Hopefully, that’s worth something.

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