I was standing, humility in hand, about to enter the door. Knowing that the interview about to commence was likely to be emotionally taxing, I rued the attack of self-pity with the accompanying tears I'd just undergone.
I opened the door.
The stature of the woman on the other side of the door belied the power she could wield over my life with the mere twist of her lips. Who was this woman? She was me.
Inside all of us lives that little piece of nagging flesh known as Intuition. She gripes, she complains, she butts in when you'd really rather she wouldn't. She tries to steal all your fun. She says you shouldn't when you really think you should. She says stop when all forces say go. She pulls in the reigns just as you were about to let your wild horses fly.
And, if you would just listen to her, you just may be able to save yourself a little grief over the relationship you should've walked away from. You may have saved yourself a little money over that car you wanted but couldn't afford. You could have saved yourself the humiliation of being wrong when you thought you were so right. Because she bats 100.
So, looking at the woman on the other side of the door, I had just one question: will you still love me even when you don't understand me?
Because all of life boils down to the profit and loss statement on the incorporation of our lives. All transactions with friends, family and loved ones a cost/benefit analysis. Our talents, assets. Our faults...catastrophic write-offs on next year's tax return. Every disagreement becomes a negotiation to determine who will divest what asset in order to turn a profit this quarter. In the big world of commerce, a fine line exists between a merger and a hostile takeover. Beware the latter.
So, when that friend or loved one comes to me and says they don't understand me, I go see the woman. Because if all else fails, I know she will love me.
The question is, will you?
Humility notwithstanding, dear readers, that question can only have one answer.