I called my old buddy Mark last week. I expected to vent and hear him say, there, there. Pat me on the back over the phone but he didn’t.
Frankly, I wasn’t helping him much. Whatever I was saying, it was not eliciting the response I wanted. This is not our normal conversation style. That is, I can always count on Mark. I hope he feels the same way. Mark and I have been having “deep” conversations since the 6th grade, in Mr. Feldt’s homeroom.
That’s a lot of conversations. That’s a lot of expectations. And we’ve been through some shit over that time. And our conversations were more frequent and in many forms. Does anyone remember Prodigy? It was like an early Skype. Later it was AOL. Also, like Skype. For anyone young enough, it’s all like texting.
Anyhow… I was beginning to think this conversation was not going to help me. I was getting a little frustrated because Mark kept asking questions. It threw me. And I don’t remember which question exactly, but it was about lesson plans or business plans, maybe Excel. In my head, it was a minor reprobation but a question that betrayed disapproval. I think in his head, he was just asking questions appropriate for the situation.
I heard, “aren’t you the guy who once made a spreadsheet to calculate your ‘disposable time’ in a given week just so you could be depressed about it?”
“Yeah. I did that. But that was the old me. The anal-retentive guy.”
“And you don’t have a spreadsheet for your start-up business? God, you are such a disappointment.”
But really he was just going through a mental check-list of things that he thought I might have done. And it was actually the perfect question. Eventually, I started to see the wisdom of the questions. He was helping me to find my keys and asking if I checked in the car, on the counter, in my pocket, on the dresser? What were you wearing? Did you have coat?
Instead of getting annoyed, I started to listen and he was right. The big hairy beast that was causing me anxiety and tweaking my depression was amorphous. You can’t grab what you can’t see. You can’t pick up a pile of parts. What goes with what?
He was persistent and he pushed through. He might have sensed my frustration, but he knew that the only way to help was to keep trying. Anyone could get annoyed looking for their keys. This was no different.
Thanks, buddy.
This week I did start writing a business plan for eehoo. And it makes sense. I showed some preliminary stuff to a couple people and got good feedback. I was able to begin making it into projects. Funding, writing, etc.
Mostly, though I was able to feel better. And that’s a priceless reward. And it was also proof that a gentle reminder of what you already know is still sometimes worthwhile. Mark said that too. We were talking about politics and he said that he realized something, lately. That people make decisions based more on feelings than logic because that is what they are trying to improve. That makes a ton of sense. It also sound a bit treacherous but that’s for another time.
The planning that I’ve done now, as a result of the convo, doesn’t guarantee success of the venture. Success is never guaranteed. You can’t know the student will learn but you should still make an excellent lesson plan or you won’t even get through the hour. Recalling all this stuff from our past is also something that is precious. I really value it.
