The horse, Goldi, was eating her feed. I, a confirmed city-dweller, was in Goldi’s pen surrounded by lovely countryside, absent-mindedly petting her. But her attention was held by her bucket of oats and vitamins--not me. Occasionally, she looked up at the horizon, distracted by a bird call or the movement of trees.
Goldi’s owner, my friend Kerul, had invited me to visit. Since we’d met 18 months earlier, she and I had spent just about every month on a one-hour video call sharing what we were each working on. I was excited to meet her horses and learn more about her leadership development business.
I had just left my organization development job in a midsize company, and was months away from launching a business. I had just published an article describing the necessity for my professional peers to see their own blind spots about their attitudes and behavior--blind spots that hindered their effectiveness in leading organizational transformation.
“The article is about transforming yourself in order to transform your organization,” I explained to Kerul matter-of-factly as I petted her horse.
“You know,” said Kerul. “I know very little about you. I know something about you professionally, but I don’t really know you.”
Suddenly my world caved in. What?! I thought. How could Kerul not know me? Has she talked with me for nearly two years, only to be mystified by who I was? What kind of person have I been all this time? Has she invited not a friend, but a stranger to her home? What am I doing here?
I was shocked and in grief. I felt lost. I began to weep.
Then Goldi lifted her head from her breakfast and looked straight at me for the first time. “Oh, there you are,” she seemed to say.