SEEKING A MENTOR

I hope to find a mentor who can teach me what I need to know in order to make my knowledge relevant and interesting in the business world. I express it as a hope rather than a goal because I don’t really know if you can set the goal of finding a mentor. Mentors in my experience have always surprised and delighted me by their presence. Sometimes it has taken me years to realize that they were mentors. What’s more, it’s hard to look for people who can teach you what you need to know when you don’t know exactly what you need to know. So my search for a mentor is a hope, more like a pleasing vision than a plan.
Even though it’s not really a goal, I am hoping to find a mentor. It’s a little difficult because I don’t exactly know where to look. Hopes aren’t quite so pressing as goals. So, rather than do nothing at all, I am filling my time with other things while I try to figure out where to look for a mentor.
One of my projects is to develop a hope presentation that would be interesting and relevant to people in the business world. It’s a bit of a stretch, since my experience lies in the area of developing topics of interest to people in health care and social services. But you have to start somewhere, so I made a start. I started with my specialty, the language of hope. I drafted the following promotional paragraph with a broader audience in mind. I didn’t have a business mentor yet, so I emailed it to my husband. .
Those who speak the language of hope have the power to engage others and change the direction of any conversation. The language of hope has impact. Obama used it to gain political strength. Charities use it to inspire donors. Successful companies give it a prominent place in their advertising. The language of hope extends far beyond positive thinking and pointing out the good things. It makes room for honesty and realistic assessment. This presentation offers tools you can use to enhance your oral and written communication with the language of hope.
We were sitting at the supper table when he acknowledged receiving my emailed paragraph. His response was lukewarm. I had the feeling he wouldn’t be shelling out thousands of dollars for this presentation any time soon. He asked me why he would be interested in learning a language of hope. I could give him no response. I was tired. I was frustrated. I was too busy controlling the impulse to throw a glass of milk at him. If I had been able to answer that question, I wouldn’t have asked for his help.
I didn’t have an answer. The silence dragged. Disappointment clouded my eyes. Tears threatened to fall. Finally he came up with an answer. It was a good answer—good enough to make me want to drink the milk in the glass, the kind of quality answer a mentor would give you, though I admit that it took me a day-and-a-half to appreciate it.
He said he would want to speak the language of hope on a day when he had one promotion to offer and two worthy employees who would be disappointed because they didn’t get it.