Waking to a grey morning and a blue mood in San Francisco, I was relieved to note a scheduled call with my mentor this morning. ”What do you mean you don’t have a mentor?” I demanded of my husband, agape. Everybody needs a mentor. I am amazed to discover some of the smartest people I know tread water in their roughest seas without a trusted keeper of their best interests. A counselour with clarity of mind, and fullness of heart. Someone to get you to put down that camera, or pen, and to challenge you on your deepest fears and dreams.
Two hours later, I put down the phone and surveyed my doodles, tracing their way between the list of characters, websites, books and links of our discussion. Personal homework. The coffee dregs of a stimulating discussion. A meeting of minds. A cross-pollination of ideas. A firepit of burning confessions. It’s a dance of intellect, inspiration, out-of-the-box thinking, and intense baring of souls. One must become quite naked to find one’s bearings, I have learnt. I met my mentor while still a child, and little has changed between us. We live world’s apart, although I suspect at times we’d both like to swop geographical starting points for a moment in time. Every touchpoint is a deliberate, measured connection, as we no longer share friends or acquaintances. This takes effort, and is fully conscious. Our outstanding needs fit perfectly, as I covet his successes, I hope he wouldn’t turn down mine. I dedicate today’s triumphs to this.
