#110: Unlikely Bridges

Pip, thank you for challenging all of us with your words here. What a powerful reminder to not assume we know what is happening in the lives of others, and the hope that can spring up as a result of an open heart (even towards a drunk dude in a pub on a Saturday night) and a little courage. 

- Lauren

Pip Coburn    pcoburn@coburnventures.com

Unlikely Bridges

One of the topics I journal about often is “bridges” that are between us humans… bridges that can eliminate "us/them" in its infinite human varieties…I aim to see what helps me create bridges between me and others, as well as ways in which I might get in the way.

Our family has been in, I suppose you might say, something of a crisis since October with regards to Bailey. I am Bailey's dad and friend. Bailey, as many of you know, experienced a case of meningitis at age five weeks that has altered her life path drastically. Above all, she has amazed me ever since. I love her so much. She loves. She is very loved.

She is 21.

There are a lot of challenges - including some revealed and diagnosed in the last several months since a major event in October.

Without going into specifics, it all has been and continues to be a lot for us… there is no easy end in sight…Bailey is clearly suffering significantly. But we are blessed with loads of great people...we are pursuing what are -- by far -- the largest shifts we have ever attempted.

To be at my best, I do a number of things including a two- to three-hour morning routine, spending time with wonderful coaches, exercise, thoughtful eating, restful dinners, writing…

Kelly is currently in Nepal to create some separation with Bailey that we see as necessary for their adult relationship to emerge. Kelly is also gaining nourishment in the presence of her teacher’s community there.

So last night, I was having a burger and a beer at the bar of a wonderful local brewpub while writing down thoughts after one of our more challenging days over the past month.

A somewhat drunk 22-year-old pealed off his group of friends that had recently entered the bar and leaned over to ask what I was writing. A book? I couldn't tell if he was joking and making fun of my odd behavior of writing while sitting by myself at a bar on a Saturday night…

I also don’t like being in the presence of people who are drunk. It's taxing on me.

But at THAT moment, I decided to let a drunk 22-year-old in… 

I discovered his name was Scott.

“I am writing as I think about a family crisis we are going through,” I said this slowly and vulnerably, as if he were sober and truly cared.

A silent gap.

He said that although he was young, he and his family had been through a lot of family crises.

Even though he slurred his words, his heart was crisp and clear and caring.

His older sister had been a drug and alcohol addict for five years, he shared. He spoke three or four times about the day she drove him to football practice drunk (I did not sense that Scott had a drinking problem himself, but was rather just a young guy out having too many beers).

He also said that - at the time - his family never believed that there was a way out.

But then he said that she had just given birth to her second child with a wonderful man in California.

He shared that her turning point after so many years was that she – for whatever reason – decided that she wanted to live.

He shared that he learned more from his sister than anything in his life.

I listened deeply to learn, as well as to spread compassion.

After twenty minutes, I asked if he – this drunk 22-year-old – might have any advice for me in all of this because I hoped to learn from him.

He paused.

He thought.

“One day at a time”.

I suspect I have used that exact phrase more than 10,000 times among friends...I so deeply believe in it. But sometimes I forget it myself.

And even though it had been a pretty discouraging day, I am grateful that I had the instinct to be open to listening and the possibility of a bridge emerging between me and another human, at first seemingly so unlike me.

We all share so much in common.

Thank you, Scott.

Pip's first-person bio: 

More than anything I suspect I am driven by “community”.   Across the past 15in years, I have grown to realize that most any success or fortune I have had in the work I do I have re-invested back into my activities such that I spend more and more of my life with people I adore and admire and just loving being around and working on a whole bunch of things that I am incredibly excited about.   I like to study monumental change at the levels of society, marketplaces, organizations and most significantly… people.  I like to study culture deeply. I like to attempt to create culture. I like processes and helping others advances their processes and being trusted deeply.   My wife Kelly is both supportive and probably confused by what I do for a living which makes two of us.  My greatest joy in my work is when I have the chance to draw from two decades of intense work in order to perhaps help someone have a break through.