It feels strange to be approaching 50 (I have a few years yet) and to want a mentor or a teacher or several. It feels like I should be approaching the age of being a mentor, and yet I know so little about so many things. I’m being vague here – though not intentionally so… I’d like a poetry/writing coach. I’d like a fundraising coach. I’d like a CEO coach. I also wouldn’t mind being around some people who could show me a thing or two about decency and grace (just because I like seeing decency and grace in action). I could probably also use a fitness coach.
Almost two years ago, I reached out to a former professor and a writing friend of mine (two different people). I asked if I could send them some poems for feedback. They both said yes and then I dropped the ball. I haven’t spoken to the former professor since – the friend I went and saw give a reading a month or so ago. At about the same time as the initial inquiry, I was thinking of writing to a poet I admire and asking for similar advice / guidance. I never did, and he has since passed away. These are all lessons in humility, fear, and avoidance. I’m disappointed in myself for having been bold enough to reach out and ask for help – and then not following through. I’m disappointed that I never wrote to the poet who passed. When I think about these things, and the roots of my inaction, I can see two causes at work: fear of rejection (they might read my stuff and tell me to spend my time doing something else) and fear of accountability (I don’t write everyday, I have a limited number of poems I could send, and I feel like I’ve been retreading the same material for months if not years).
For the past five or six years of my career, I have been in a sort of start-up mode. The organizations have been small and the positions new. There were never really people above me who could tell me how to do it (whatever it was I was doing) much less, show me the way. When I became a nonprofit director (impact director was the title), we were in the middle of changing how our organization functioned – all new positions, new directions, new reporting structures. I read case studies and theories of change, but because this was new for us, there wasn’t anyone who could coach us through. When I shifted into fundraising, we were, again, in the process of changing how we did things. We were moving from one type of fundraising to another, switching databases and data tracking systems, stripping down our messaging and marketing. I would study what was out there, what other organizations were doing, and mimic what I had seen, but was never really coached on how to ask for money, never really saw it in action. Now, as a small ceo of a small organization, I find myself in a similar position. I’m rebuilding processes without a lot of guidance and few people to turn to.
But I suspect what I’m really longing for or thinking about is those long-term guiding relationships that I sometimes read about. I don’t know how to start those or how to transition something that I already have into that. Not too long ago I read a poem that I thought was ok, but a bio that struck me. The poet is the son of a former university basketball coach. As a student, he had reached out to an established poet to ask for guidance. The established poet said sure, but I want access to the basket ball team. Deal. The younger poet started handing poems over to his mentor and the mentor said when you turn in a poem, I’ll let you know. Over a year passed and the mentor never said anything. The young poet asked if he should give up and the mentor said coach’s kids don’t quit. More time passed and then one day the mentor told him he had finally given him a poem. I like the story because I think it speaks of a camaraderie that a lot of artists aspire towards. I like this story because it points to something I wish I had: a longstanding and trusted relationship with a confidante and mentor – one where we could share ideas and criticism and I could get… guidance, affirmation, praise, criticism… I’m not sure what. It just seems better than writing in this void. It seems like it might, if I’m lucky, inspire growth.
For the past few years, I have had to be my own source of motivation, education, and inspiration for most things in life. Some would admire that, some would be jealous of that type of freedom. For the past few years, I have had to do all of the driving, make all of the decisions, and what sometimes hits me is that the flipside of this freedom is responsibility and an overwhelming sense of choice. There are days when I’m tired of driving, or at the very least, I’d like to look at a map to see where I am or where I’m going. I was going to write “headed in the right direction” but I had to check myself and admit that I’m not sure I believe in “right direction.”
Even just now, in the middle of writing this post (a post that I started almost a month ago), I paused to research writer’s retreats – maybe I need to spend some time and money on surrounding myself with opportunity and other writers… and just as quickly I pulled back and said “that’s why I seek affirmation – to help me determine if this is worth pursuing in any real and serious way.” I think if I had a few published poems under my belt, I’d be more willing to commit to something like that, I think if I had that mentor to say, yep keep going, I’d be more inclined to keep going. Regardless, I guess I just have to take a step, any step, any direction.
… As a post script… as much as I would like some affirmation, I’ve been at this (various forms of practice and writing) for a little over two years. I do it just because. I’ll likely continue to write regardless of outcomes or guidance, success, or failure. I take some solace in that.