The Decision's Right

"I love capers," he said.
"I know," I repliled. "Do you want some?"
"How do you know I love capers?"

I laughed. I have been having dinner with this Man for three years now. An affinity for dishes with capers, jalapenos, and single malts, but an adversion to chocolate made its presence known very early in our dining relationship.

When Man comes into town, he whisks me away to a dinner I can't afford and we catch up. Eventually, the conversation rolls around to his story, or bits and pieces of it, and I listen. And although I've now heard this story and its fragments and spinoffs countless times, I always listen to each telling as intently as I did the first time I heard it. I try to apply it to my life and my career. I try to explain that I want his job and his life without sounding like a groupie. But it never comes out eloquently. He laughs, and states his hopes to still be around when I hit my professional stride. For a few moments, awe, my self-confidence, and drive are in equilibrium.

His story can make anyone study a little harder. Work a little smarter. Play out that childhood dream. It has challenged me to figure out what I really want. It has embrazened me to leave my comfort zone. At times, it has even comforted me when I have failed and felt directionless. It has forced me to confront several of my professional and personal ruts, while empowering me to make the necessary changes. On some levels, I think the story, the conversations, and the entire relationship, have helped coax me through somewhat of a personal transformation. Because I don't recall always being bold enough to have the guts to pack my life into my car and drive it 3000 miles away from familiarity.

Last night was the first meal we've shared since I made the possibility of being bold a reality. Since I merged my life and my dreams onto a new path. This new path that is suddenly - and kind of unfairly - encountering unexpected curves and bumps and junctions with major freeways. This path with perfectly beautiful scenery but heading to a destination I no longer control and at a rate I can't predict.

And given the mentoring role he's played in the past, I expected guidance last night. What should I do? Will this work out? Should I be worried? Is this hopeless? Last night, there were no answers. If anything, light was shed on a few more bumps, curves, and junctions that I had not yet seen.

"It's difficult, huh? knowing you have so many options," he slyly commented.
"That's a start, sure," I replied as I gulped my wine.

Then he leaned in as if he were about to whisper something secretly, but said, "Nic, I don't know the right answer. And I know you don't know the right answer. So pick an answer, and make it the right one. You've done it before!"

My eyebrows furrowed as I attempted to review my mental catalog of my good decisions. "When?" I asked.

He raised his glass and retorted, "We're here, aren't we?"
"Ha Ha!" I laughed. "One for me. To San Francisco!"

So yes, to San Francisco... and to making another decision right. Soon. Very soon.