A conversation with the right sensei?

Today’s post was inspired by a quote that arrived in my inbox this week, and has been murmuring to me ever since. 

Here it is:

A conversation with the right sensei is worth more than ten years training with the wrong one.

Wow. 

Say it aloud to yourself, word by word, and let it sink in.

If that sentiment snaps you to attention, as it did me—it’s likely because it captures the moment in a life-changing conversation where you feel a window has opened in a wall where there was none before.  

You recognize, in that instant or in retrospect, that you’ve been granted a new view (or sightline) onto your world.

On the hopeful side—you fill with gratitude as you realize something you thought was out-of-reach is now available to you. And you say this recognizing that you still have to show up and do the work.

On the sobering side—you’re reminded (with the lump in your throat kind of way) how much time you (or a loved one) may have wasted on the wrong path. Perhaps days or a month—but perhaps years. Ouch.

That’s the contrast at the crux here that wakes our brains up: a moment’s conversation (that collapses time) vs. unending labor.

Your clients count on you for this fresh perspective onto their challenges, hopes, frustrations, and dreams. That is why they seek out your counsel, and keep coming back for more. 

You are their wise sensei (or guide) into unknown, or familiar, terrain. You help them reduce risk, accelerate outcomes, and equip them along the way with the lasting skills + insights that change their world. 

And I bet these are some of the most rewarding ones in your work.

On the flip side: as business owners + experts (and participants in this experiment called humanity), we do well to stay open to the same kinds of conversations for ourselves. The ones where things lighten as you glimpse new possibilities, and you feel yourself take flight.

Your turn:
Who in your professional + personal life has been your sensei?
What ten years of training did they save you?
How could you open yourself to that kind of guide now? To whom could you reach out?
And what would that insight be worth to you?

 
Stacy Garfinkel