In my line of work, I get the beautifully sacred opportunity to walk with many different people, in a vast sea of situations and experiences. At the same time, it is my favorite, and the worst, part of being human. I find myself wanting to help, giving time, energy, giving so much of myself to something in which I ultimately have zero control.

I have this theory, on how each of us approaches our own development/growth. (You should know, I love discussions like this: There are 2 kinds of people in the world, Beatles people and Stones people. Which one are you and why, what does that mean? Of course, it’s limited and overly simplistic, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t truth in it. So, as I go into this particular theory of mine, understand that this isn’t scientific in any way, unless you’d call the way I interpret my experience scientific…which, I suppose, you might. Who knows? Another thing: I believe growth is the natural inclination of everything, and anything that goes against this is uncomfortable because it’s fundamentally opposed to our creation.) Anyway, there are 4 kinds of people.

First, there are those who want to be coached. They like suggestion and direction. They want you to show them how to field a ground ball or hold a football. You can ask them to read a book or write in a journal or take 300 swings at a batting cage, and they will! This is the smallest group, of the first 3, by the way. They want to find a coach, and they are imminently teachable.

The second group is the largest, by a wide margin. These sojourners want to find the answer themselves. It is our business to create a safe space for them to ask and answer. They can brainstorm, try, rage, doubt, risk, be as wildly out there as they can, and they are able to wander. If you give them direction, maybe they will, but probably they won’t. They want to field a ground ball themselves. What they want is a padded room and the occasional guided question to explore themselves, to find themselves. They are motivated and will examine themselves, you are just there to allow their journey.

Next are those who DO NOT WANT TO GROW. I am here and here is where I’ll stay. If you give direction, like “read chapter 1 and we’ll talk about it,” they aren’t reading chapter 1. Let’s go field some ground balls… Nope. They say “I don’t know,” to nearly everything about themselves or their actions, and it’s true. They don’t, because it’s just too demanding to think about it. This often looks like regression, but it might only appear that way, because the world is moving forward, and THEY ARE NOT. Sometimes, they are aggressive in their complacency. Other times, they don’t care enough for aggression.

I said the 1st group was the smallest, and that’s mostly true. The fourth group is smaller, but since they’re monsters, they don’t count. Thankfully, there aren’t many of them. These people don’t want to grow, and they don’t want you to grow, either. They will sabotage and lie, anything they have to do to mislead you. This group exists in everything. They are dangerous and should be avoided until they are no longer so nasty and bent on everyone’s ruin.

Maybe there aren’t 4 kinds of people. Instead, there’s probably just one, and we move from group to group, depending on the circumstance and season. (Except the last, hopefully.) Sometimes, we’ll want a coach. Others, a space. And yet other times, we just want life and any sort of invitation or responsibility to LEAVE US ALONE. The only reason my silly theory is important is to know how to love each other on our separate paths, and contribute to each other’s discovery process without driving ourselves mad with frustration in the process.

Yes, this is just me writing. It feels different from the usual format these posts take, but it’s helpful to “talk through things out loud” to organize these thoughts, and figure out if they are really what you think and/or believe. This is my “safe space” to run.

Incidentally, as you can easily guess, I am a Beatles man, and it’s not close. I’m willing to listen to those who say The Rolling Stones aren’t ridiculously, hilariously overrated, but they’re wrong.