I've never handled it well. But I'm almost as bothered when others want to know what I advise for THEIR lives.
Advice is different from instruction. Teaching somebody is showing them how to do something. Advice is a judgment call. Dictionary.com calls it "a guide to action, conduct, etc." Guide. Not black-or-white. Yet, so often, people give or ask for advice as though it's a black-or-white thing. "This is what one SHOULD do in this situation."
I've had past clients who are new business owners ask me, "How should I organize my file system?" They ask it as though there's One Right Answer. I tend to give vague answers, which I know probably frustrate them. First, the fact that they're asking indicates that they don't already have a file system, and if they don't have one by the time they decide they need a bookkeeper, then they aren't the type of person to keep a file system. So, whatever I suggest is a moot point, anyway. Second, there's all kinds of ways to file paper documents. I can't decide for someone else which way works best for them.
Choice is a wonderful thing, and yet people often baulk at choices. They want the Correct Answer. Once, when I was in a college accounting class at night, which meant most of the students were working adults, a woman asked the instructor a question. He began with, "Well, there's a number of ways you can go about it." The student slammed her textbook closed and declared, "I'm not paying $250 to teach myself." She stormed out.
I always remember the above when clients ask me how to do a certain task in Quickbooks, and my answer is, "Well, there's six different ways you can go about accomplishing the same thing." I know that probably frustrates them, so I quickly add, "Let me show you my favorite way."
I've been playing my online horse racing game for ten real life years (which amounts to about 30 game years). I've written lots of articles directed at new players and have mentored a lot of new players. My idea of a good mentorship is when I've helped them help themselves; i.e, given them the confidence to make their own decisions. So, it throws me when a player who has been around a while drops me a note to ask my advice on what they should do in a certain situation. Should they retire their Grade 1 stakes winner to stud at then of this season, or keep racing him next season? Should they get rid of all their yearlings that gallop below a certain level? Should they enter their recent stakes winner in this race or that race? Should their fast working youngster debut in a maiden race or a stakes race? Sometimes they ask in capital letters, "What would YOU do?" As though I'm supposed to be flattered that they want to know my thoughts.
In actuality, those types of questions often annoy me. Why are they asking ME about THEIR horse? Whatever the question, my answer usually contains a lot of similar statements. "There isn't a One Right Answer." "The best answer is going to be determined by what you're trying to accomplish and that might be different from what I'm trying to accomplish with my own horses." "I can't tell you what price to sell your horse for because I do very little buying and selling. But you can always start high and keep dropping it if no one is interested."
It's unfortunate that so many people look outside themselves for The Right Thing To Do, rather than check in with themselves as to what feels most right to them. I came across a quote that gave one reason for not ever giving advice is when the other "is determined to pursue his own opinion". Indeed. Isn't that part of the great joy of living? Acting upon how one views a particular subject or situation, rather than concerning themselves with what someone else thinks about that subject or situation?
No one else can make as accurate judgments for us as we can make for ourselves. Unless one knows very little about themselves. I recall one fan friend, Cheryl, I had in Sentinel fandom. She did some proofreading for me and we exchanged emails about our lives, and at one point decided to talk on the phone. She had a husband I'll call Walter. Throughout the telephone conversation she kept saying, "Walter thinks this" and "Walter said that." I got so flustered with every sentence bringing up Walter that I finally asked her, "Where is Cheryl is all of this? You keep telling me what Walter thinks, but what does Cheryl think?" She paused for a few moments, then in a flustered voice replied, "I don't know what you mean. I don't know how to answer that." It's like it had never occurred to her to have her own thoughts. Cheryl didn't even know that Cheryl existed, and that made me sad.
I recently had a man with a clipboard knock on my door. I went outside to talk to him, since the pooches were going berserk. He started to tell me about insect control for my house. I told him I wasn't interested. He started to tell me how I should be interested because, you know, insects could destroy my house. I dismissed him with, "I'm over the age of twelve. I can decide whether or not my house needs insect control."
As I get older, I'm less and less tolerant of others telling me what I need.
Commentaires