I was talking with a young man – about 30 – at the cafe yesterday. He’d been laid off – an attorney who used to work for a firm where, as he described it, “Everyone was skinny and high strung. I’m heavy. That’s why I can’t find a job.”
He was kinda chunky – but not obese. He had that kind of King Henry the Eighth look about him – even a neatly trimmed beard. And I hope he won’t mind my telling you his first name (because it’s relevant to the story): Pierre.
“Pierre means stone,” I said. “It’s French.”
“I know,” he smiled. “So am I.”
What a kind person, I thought. It was in his eyes – they were warm and full of fire. He wasn’t the least bit frightened about “the economy” or cowed by the fact that, as he told me, his wife was now making all the money. But that can’t-find-a-job-cuz-I’m-heavy thing rankled. And by rankled I mean, I couldn’t let it go.
And as soon as I noticed that, a flood of imagery dropped into my awareness.
This is guidance – it’s what happens now. And I know that when it does, I’m going to have to find a way to share what I’m seeing. (I used to swallow it; stuff it down; ignore it. Now I just blurt it out.)
“You know…” I said, clearing my throat a couple of times. (I’m still not completely comfortable with this “gift”) “Why not find a job at a place where everyone is like you. Friendly and warm. Big energy. Big heart.”
“Yeah, big everything,” he chuckled.
“Well, actually -yes,” I nodded. “You are big – everywhere. But it’s not bad or wrong. It suits your energy. (It was here I let on what I do for a living – my work as a chronicler of angel stories and more recently, an intuitive consultant. I asked his permission to continue, granting that some people aren’t into this kind of thing – that I wouldn’t be offended – but I have some guidance for him.)
“No, no,” he said. “I mean, yes, please tell me. I’d like to hear it.”
Here’s what I told him: “You are kingly, not fat. You are big and wide and solid as stone. Your name suits you – your size suits you. The guidance is telling me that instead of trying to fit yourself into a place – and this isn’t just at work, it’s everywhere – where you perceive yourself as ‘too big or too much’ why not find an environment that fits you? Look for a place where being ‘big’ is honored and valued, a place where everyone is big and round and cheerful and helpful and kind – like you.
“Don’t try to twist yourself into a pretzel to conform to the culture of a place where you feel out of place, out of touch, different, exposed, vlunerable. Leave. Right now. Find your pond.
“Find my pond,” he said. He had that deer in headlights look people get when they hear something important. I smiled at him and turned back to my work. He turned back to his.
Laptops up, I sipped my iced tea; he, his coffee.
Ten minutes later, he leaned over. “You inspired me deeply,” he said. “I just sent a query to the firm I really admire, where Id really like to work. A place where… well, before today I didn’t feel ‘big’ enough. Now I did… I do.”
We shook hands and he packed up to go. As he left, “You’ll find your pond,” I told him.
And because guidance is NEVER only for one person – I asked myself (and I’m asking YOU now) Have you found your pond?






{ 22 comments… read them below or add one }
I may have just dipped a toe into my pond….but would love you to help me along the way. Or assist me in finding another more appropriate pond. What a lovely metaphor and I love what you did for this kind man.
I did a post a loooong time ago about “shrinking to fit.” and trying to make myself smaller. I do it all the time. I need to stop.
I thoroughly enjoyed this post.
We all do this – have done this – in one way or another. I told this man the story of the day we decided to take my son out of first grade and put him in private school. His teacher had said, at our end of year conference, “Max had a good year but he needs to toughen up. He’s too…. light-hearted, too…. nice. They’ll eat him alive in second grade.”
We pulled him out immediately. The next fall, on his first day at his new school, Max came running out of the classroom calling, “They like me, Mommy! They like me!”
I’d be happy to help you find your pond. It’s easy if you know how and where to look.
PS I just noticed this comment about my son lined up with his photo in my sidebar! He’s the handsome angel to the right
Dearest Amy, Such a beautiful story and post. So beautiful. I can just see Pierre, walking out of the cafe, knowing he is so right, just as he is. What an immense gift you gave him, and him you. You know, I see things, too. I’ ve shaken them off for a long time, not knowing what to do with them. I write some of what I see, but I can tell there is more. Thank you for that, too. Blessings, Julie
I have those moments you describe – when a single thought can ‘drop’ a series of images that, when strung together, reveal a bigger picture that shines a new perspective on a situation. I will follow your lead and express my own intuitive voice more often too. Thank you.
Thanks, Sally – and Julie – for reading and commenting. This experience, of sensing and knowing something about another person we’ve just met, is probably much more common than we, in our polite, boundaried society let on.
Though it’s not always a good idea to tell other people what we think: We don’t want to be getting into other peoples’ business all the time; we can use our intuition to know when it might be okay – we can ask permission, and if the other person is interested, we can reach out.
Hey Amy,
the story is a beauty. The pain he is having, is really hard to take in. Your words are a difference. BTW i too have jumped out of the pond i was in. I can tell you, no water, not easy. If i could find i person like u, it would be angelic for me.
words- are beautiful.
Wow, this is a beautiful post, Amy!
It moved me to tears, because I have not found my pond. And that’s okay. But, it kind of sucks (or maybe it’s a blessing in disguise ?) to always feel like you don’t fit in anywhere.
You have a kind heart and soul, and I admire you for speaking up.
Amy, I wish you lived next door. Then, whenever having a bad day, I would just run over and talk to you. This was very inspiring, and I am so hoping that ‘Pierre’ found a great job. You are such a wonderful twitter friend! molly
Loved this post– I can almost visualize the man, and your exchange with him. Isn’t it wonderful to be able to use your gift?
I nearly wept as I read this post, Amy. First, at what I could only imagine in terms of the gift you gave him. Second, at the sheer beauty of your words. And third, at the stunning power of your voice – trusted, strong, spoken.
It leaves me wondering again: what if we actually trusted our wisdom, our inner knowing, our intuition – and then spoke it?!? The world would be a different place…or at least a number of ponds.
Thanks for being you.
What a lovely post. I love how those chance encounters can change lives so deeply and profoundly. And then sharing your encounter helps the rest of us, too. You are a gifted writer. Thanks for sharing this story.
Thank you all for your thoughtful comments today. I hesitated about telling this story – which is that impulse again to swallow down what I see and know. As with Pierre, this response (which has truly touched my heart) affirms the same lesson: Say what you see; reach out if you can. And I love the way you’re talking and thinking about your own pond-finding-journeys.
What a beautiful post, Amy! Inspiring on so many levels. Not only is it a great reminder that we each need to find our pond (love that metaphor!), but it’s also a great reminder that sharing inner wisdom with love and generosity can make a huge difference in someone’s life.
We can never fully know the impact we have on others. How often do you have a positive, complimentary feeling about someone? And how often do you actually share it? I’ve made a commitment to share every honest compliment that pops into my head, because none of us never gets enough validation. A nice comment — even “I like your haircut” or “pretty handbag!” — can turn someone’s day around.
Even better to be able to share something really useful, like a new perspective, as in the story above!
Thanks for sharing.
Your metaphor strikes close to home. I have a pond. We try different plants and fish – some live and some don’t – I guess survivors found their pond. Other residents have arrived from the surrounding woods. The snakes, frogs, chipmunks and lots of birds. Even a Great Blue Heron found his pond.
Your advice is like a nudge (or actually a slap across the face) waking me up to what I am seeing.
I take your advice to heart and will move more aggressively towards the pond I want to be in. Thank you for you encouragement.
I wonder if we find ourselves having landed in an ocean—-far too vast and un-manageable for our skill–that we might learn adaptation toward a tumultuous sea—or forever long for that envisioned pond.
Thank you, Amy, for not stuffing your gift. There are so many Pierres out there who need your voice, whether through your writing, or as that lucky fellow experienced, in person.
Find Your Pond is such a lovely metaphor.
I haven’t found mine…yet. But I knew it was no longer in the corporation I’d given 15 years of my life. Meeting you and other writers like you online, I know I’ll be home soon.
In my own pond.
P.S. Kudos for trusting yourself to yank that Angel of yours out of school. “Eat him alive” indeed. Oy!
I was very touched and inspired by your post. I now want to find my pond, even if I am rather late to the game. I’m rather singed at the moment, but I need to try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I am going to figure it out.
Lisa MB – Big huggy smile.
Pop and Ice – A good question to ask, after being singed: Was there some part of myself that I was ‘selling’ for the ‘privilege’ of being in this job/relationship/(whatever singed you)? When did I realize I didn’t belong there? (Often it’s long before we get pushed out – and just as often, we wish we could get out but don’t do anything about it.) Finally, when I was wishing I was somewhere else, where did I wish I was? What part of myself was getting stuffed/squashed there? What freedom was being compromised?
Lisa – If I run into Pierre again, I will ask him!
Grasshoppa – Oceans are just bigger ponds. If it’s the right place for you, a canoe will float by (complete with paddle, compass and even, a jug of margaritas!) If it’s not, swim for shore and keep looking. You will know your pond when you find it.
Wow! This is a breath of fresh air. Seriously.
I have discovered that pond needs change over time and it’s up to us to stay tuned to that; I am now in the process of finding it once again. Gasp!
I would love to know the ‘rest of the story’ with Pierre.
Thank you for this story.
Lisa (@ecstewart)
Thank you for this post. I am in the process of trying to ‘find my pond’. I feel like I am drifting through and not able to focus on the one thing that is mine and unique. I have also recently taken steps to get help finding that. I am looking forward to the process. I have needed it for so long!
Good luck with your search – Here’s a clue I’ve found helpful: Begin by looking back on what you’ve loved. What activities, places, people have made your heart sing? What music, movies, TV shows,movement activities have touched your body and soul? Look all the way back – even into pre-school. What made you feel most at home? Most yourself? Make a list. When it feels complete, check in: What themes emerge? What is the mood/feeling experience here? These are the things that will lead you to your pond.
What a lovely story. I have just moved my whole family 10 hours away from where we lived in the hopes that we have landed in, or at least really near to, our pond. So far it feels just right and like a gift to all of us. But it’s so important not to lose sight of that, isn’t it?