The Bionic Mentor
By Sharla Gorder
I walked back to my hotel feeling like I had had a blood transfusion. Rich new energy coursed through me. Melendy always has this effect on me. I feel validated and invigorated in her presence. She is everything a best friend should be. I wish we were next-door neighbors. But alas, she lives West; I live East. These visits are few and far between, but her influence never wanes. She is always with me.
Back in the ’90s when the teens were wearing those rubber wristbands inscribed with the letters WWJD (What would Jesus do?) I wanted one that read WWMD. From the time that Melendy and I became friends, in the 1980s, I found myself “consulting” her, either in person or in my imagination, any time I had an emotional quandary. Some 40 years later, I still do. Melendy always approaches situations from a position of love and compassion. Always. And while Jesus is a pretty darn good role model, I’ve always found that a flesh and blood human is more relatable, a little less intimidating.
That said, the concept of role models, or mentors, is tricky. I have a hard time with the idea of heroes in the traditional sense — revering someone completely and totally. I’ve lived too long to believe that anyone can withstand the harsh light on a high pedestal for long without their halos eventually catching their hair on fire. We are all flawed.
And we are all gifted.
Maybe I do have a hero, and she is Melendy. And Mary. And Laura. And Dawn. And Kitty. And Piper. And Janna. And Beverly. And Amy. And Betty. And Barbara. And Lynas. And Caren. And Denise. And Val. I could go on.
Each of these women epitomizes different qualities that I not only admire, but endeavor to emulate. I learn from each (in order of the list above) the nuances of compassion and gentleness and adventurousness and self-care and altruism and resilience and competence and dependability and kindness and vulnerability and joyfulness and empathy and friendship and affability and sapience. WWMMLDKPJBABBLCDVD? Ha!
If we put all of these amazing qualities together into one person, they’d put Mother Teresa to shame. But the thing is, if such a person existed, no one would want to be around them. I believe it is our vulnerabilities, as much as our strengths, that make us relatable. At least I hope this is the case. I have made it a practice to be pretty candid about my foibles and failures. I even wrote a book a few years ago — My Vices Collide, a Celebration of Being a Little Messed Up — in which I literally spell out the many ways I’ve gone astray or failed to live according to my values. I have learned so much more from my mistakes than my achievements. In fact, I believe it is my missteps that have engendered many of my proudest accomplishments.
Teresa de Avila, a 17th century Carmelite nun venerated by the Catholic church as a saint — the loftiest of pedestals — recognized the value of waywardness. She wrote: “To reach something good it is very useful to have gone astray, and thus acquire experience.”
I’m sure that all of my mentors have “gone astray,” just as I have. But those life experiences have polished them in ways that make them such good people. I’m so blessed to learn from them.
What initials would be inscribed on your wristband? Would you need a bigger wrist to accommodate them all? This is so much fun to contemplate. Think about it for moment.
Who is your bionic mentor?
