“What should I do?” she asked.
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know,” she said.
So we just sat together in silence.
After a few moments, she nudged me.
“But if you could tell me what to do…” she joked.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I couldn’t give advice because I only knew what had worked for me. Perhaps that didn’t apply to her.
When it comes to the things that matter, nobody can give anyone else advice. We can only tell our own stories and let others take from them what they will.
When we seek advice, often what we’re seeking is validation. Deep down, we already know exactly what we need to do. We’re just too scared to admit it on a conscious level.
It’s our own bullshit that blinds us. Worries about what others will think. Doubt that we’ll be able to handle the fallout of swerving into a different course. Fear of the unknown. All these layers of crap cloud our vision into our internal wisdom.
So now, when I get asked for advice, I turn the question back around. What do you want me to say? How would it make you feel if I said that?
“Ahhh shut UP! I’m coming to you because I want your insight,” she said.
“Sure,” I said. “But we know what you’re looking for me to say and we know you’re not going to follow it.”
“Do you judge me?” she asked.
“Do you judge you?” I asked.
“You’re so annoying,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” I smiled.