Advice

Tomorrow’s the first day of school – a new year, a new team, and new courses are all in store for me. In preparation, I’ve been thinking about one of the questions we used during our team building exercises: What advice do you wish you’d been given as teenager? Here’s my attempt at an answer:

 

I wish someone had told me that I’d always feel I have something to prove. That having a chip on your shoulder makes it even more important to seek balance. That sometimes the world throws you off-kilter, and that chip is the only effective counterweight.

 

I wish someone had told me that I’d never be comfortable being on top. That restlessness is both a blessing and a curse.

 

I wish I’d been told that life isn’t linear. That the danger of singular pursuit of goals is that your goals become singular. The higher you climb, the steeper the ground beneath you becomes – until you find yourself at a precipice, with only a binary choice: Jump or Back Down.

 

I wish someone had told me that it’s OK to retreat and lick your wounds. That sometimes that’s the only way to get clean.

 

I wish I’d been told that you don’t have to like yourself to love yourself. That it’s possible to acknowledge your own weaknesses, to recognize the ways in which you’ve engendered hurt – and still approach yourself with forgiveness and compassion.

I wish someone had told me that blood really is thicker than water. That you can make your own families, but you can’t ever discount the loyalty of ancestry.

 

I wish someone had told me that religion is a potion that both clarifies and obscures. That it seeps into your bones, and no amount of retroactive rationality ever drains that well of faith.

 

I wish I’d been told that the people who turn out to be most important to you are never the ones you expect. That an open heart is just as important as an open mind.

 

I wish I’d been told that I’d see the world shift in ways I’d never foresee. That wisdom lies in keeping the lessons of the past alive and fighting the numbness of the everyday.

 

I wish I’d been told that the discomfort of growing up female never truly resolves itself. That negotiating your role within the patriarchy is a constant battle between acquiescence and rebellion. That learning to tell your story is the only way you will ever communicate that truth to those who have never lived it. That the most dangerous of assumptions are those we don’t know exist.

 

I wish I’d been told that making others happy can only ever be complementary to finding your own peace. That it’s easy to get lost in the fog of the border between selflessness and self-erasure.

 

I wish I’d been told the education is the progressive discovery of our own ignorance. Actually, Will Durant said that. And someone did tell me that attribution is important.

 

I wish someone had told me that cultivating a sense of humor is much more worth your time than ministering to your appearance. That personality versus beauty is a false dichotomy.

 

I wish someone had told me that laughter is the foundation of our humanity. Good for the soul and the ab muscles.

 

I wish I’d been told how important it is to spend time in nature. That there is a stillness in wildness.

 

I wish someone had told me that the advantage of being pushed against a wall is that it gives you leverage. That the unanticipated fight is the one that reveals your true strength.

 

I wish I’d been told that taking care of your body and taking care of your mind are two sides of the same coin. That rest is sometimes the best training.

 

I wish someone had told me that strength lies not in invulnerability but in the ability to heal the broken places. That sometimes time is the only healer.

 

I wish I’d been told that it’s OK to ask for help. Even if you’re only giving yourself permission to meet your own needs.

 

I wish I’d been told that our brains are hardwired to remember both fear and humiliation. And that it’s possible to rewire them.

 

I wish I’d been told that being honest to strangers is sometimes much easier than speaking the uncomfortable truth to those you care about. That ripping open a scab is sometimes the only way to stop forming new wounds.

 

I wish someone had told me that being satisfied with your own effort is infinitely more valuable than meeting someone else’s expectations. On the other hand, learning how to gracefully take a compliment is a legitimate skill.

 

I wish I’d been told that the value of a job lies not in how the world rewards it but in how it rewards you. That the feeling of a job done decently and well will outshine every paycheck.

 

I wish someone had told me that you’re never really ready to be a role model. That someday, you’ll be called upon to give advice and have nothing to speak from but doubt. That honesty outranks articulateness every time.

 

I wish someone had told me there’s a reason the declaration says the pursuit of happiness. Assuming you have the right to be happy all the time is entitlement of a particularly empty form.

 

I wish someone had told me that capturing a moment sometimes interferes with your ability to live that moment. Sometimes you have to hand the camera to someone else. Or turn it off.

 

I wish someone had told me that it’s nearly impossible to anticipate someone else’s truth. That you never really know unless you ask. And listen.

 

I wish someone had told me that listening is a radical act. That it is too often perceived as weakness by those who believe leaders inevitably have the loudest voice in the room. That the willingness to set aside self and be humble is the foundation of all empathy.

 

I wish someone had told me that no one else’s words will ever tell your truth. That the absorption of others’ words is only ever the first step in telling an honest story.

 

I wish I’d been told that “there are two sides to every story” is a vast understatement that fails to account for the chasms that exist between even the most shared realities. That our fears and hopes, prejudices and ideals, insecurities and principles shape our perspectives in ways so deep that the real truth of the multiverse lies not in separate universes but in the parallel worlds we lay side by side at the center of our intimacies.

 

I wish someone had told me that having something to say doesn’t mean you have to be earth-shattering. Just brave.