Hello Reader,
A recent conversation with a friend recently stirred something in me. It was a reminder of the quiet and powerful role the people in our lives play, in shaping who we are, and who we are not.
We spoke of leadership and friendship, yes, but also of the grace that lives inside our friendships, the kind that offers not only guidance and warmth as all friendships should, but reflection, challenge and provocation.
Truth.
It reminded me of the importance of grace within the support, guidance and mentorship that exists between us.
And I've been holding this conversation with my two dear friends, close ever since.
To be seen, not for what we produce, or prove, but for who we are, is among the rarest and most profound gifts we might receive. To sit across from someone who truly hears us, who speaks not at but with us, that is the sacred ground upon which friendship and mentorship are built, and blur.
Too often, we diminish mentorship by reducing it to hierarchy: the giver and the receiver, the wise and the willing. The master and the apprentice.
But true mentorship is a dialogue. The beautiful Greek word for two voices filled with meaning, flowing through one another.
True mentorship allows us to connect with someone on an emotional, intellectual and human level and acts as the pinnacle of both mentorship, and friendship.
Why can't our smallest circle of friends be our greatest mentors?
Yet often we illustrate mentorship in a way that diminishes its value. This was at the heart of the point my friend Julia was making in our conversation and it has resonated with me since.
The mistake we've made with the idea of mentorship is that one party teaches whilst the other party learns; one person absorbs whilst the other imparts wisdom; one person gives, whilst the other receives.
However, mentorship can be so much than that.
This error in relating to the idea of the Mentor has pushed the idea of mentorship back to the dark ages of 'master and apprentice' where one person holds power over another. A relationship that lacks harmony and equilibrium. A transactional and imbalanced foray rather than something cultivated, mutually beneficial and nourishing.
Something as my friend would describe as 'full of grace'.
It led me to reflect on the small circle I have chosen — those I call friends, yes, but who also serve as my mentors in the truest sense. People like Julia, like Damian and a very small group of others. We teach one another through lessons, but also through the living of our lives. The mistakes we make, the errors of judgment and our navigation of the grey and murky areas that our careers, our experiences, happen to take us through on any given day.
We mentor each other in laughter, in loss, in the sharing of a walk in the sunshine, the rain, and in silence. And in this way, we stretch one another's ability to see, and be, by simply tapping into the wisdom of our lived and living experiences.
There is inherent value in this wisdom, I truly believe this. Our lived experiences — the good, the bad, the ugly — they've all shaped each of us in ways that have value; and the impact of this value cannot be underestimated.
But this wisdom alone won't hold our tribe of mentors together; this is the job of our very own moral compass. A compass that draws lines in the sand that act as guardrails when we enter the murky and darker areas of our lives. Drawing us towards some, and calling us to walk away from others.
As I reflect on this conversation, I've come to realise that this moral compass is what will hold a tribe of mentors together.
It's not always rational, but it's always unmistakably true to who we are.
It simply points in the direction set by our values, and when we listen to its judgment we find ourselves surrounded by people who reflect who we are.
People who insist they will be there, to help us become the person we were always meant to be.
With grace.
See you next week.