Coffee Crone: Taming Coffee Blog

March 1 2007

The Value of the Occasional Alligator

I've been busy with my job hunt, and for some odd reason, not wanting to write about that has somehow translated into not writing about anything at all. I do seem to have a pretty good chance at a job I would enjoy. I should know by tomorrow afternoon if I'm going to get an offer.

One of the things that has me charged up about this particular job is the energy and passion that the folks running the place bring to their work. I love doing techie things, but I have missed working in an environment where the work itself matters, really matters. I've also missed the charge that comes from having co-workers who share my values and enthusiasm.

It would feel terrific to be hooked into the life of the community in the way that is sure to happen if I get this job. Yup, I really want this job.

Oddly enough, the work itself is not particularly challenging. It's good work, work I enjoy and do well, but it's not the challenge that this same job would have been when I was younger. That's not a bad thing. I think the older me brings something into the mix that simply wasn't there when I was a kidlet.

When I was younger, one of the things that amazed other folks was that I could begin at point A, and skip directly to point K, without going through the steps in between. I found solutions before what could be seen as the entire complexity of the problem had been fully explored. It made me a good "fixer".

Over time though, I have come to see that the process, the journey, has it's own value. I have also come to understand that fixing shtuff, including fixing people, is often not the answer. Instead, there is something long-lasting and healthy in the process as it unwinds, and in the development of mastery that comes as people move inch by inch through the maze that eventually gets them to their goal.

I see my role as the guide that keeps them out of the pit filled with alligators, but who lets them experience victory and a sense of accomplishment as they discover their own paths. I provide support, encouragement, information, and occasionally a jolt of disturbing reality along the way, but I do it without a sense of ownership of the problem itself.

It occurs to me, as I write this out, that as good as I was (and I was very good) at clearly seeing a solution for other people, I didn't move that quickly through the more vexing areas of my own life. No, I went from A to B and then C, occasionally having to start over, and sometimes finding myself, at least for a short while, up to my ass in alligators, before moving on to what seemed like the real solution to whatever I was facing.

It also occurs to me that as painful as that sometimes was, the slow journey was important for its own sake—even the painful parts. That's a good thing to know.