What’s a small moment from your past that you still think about years later?
When I submitted my research proposal, I expected to undertake a master’s thesis. The college had other ideas. They thought there was a doctoral thesis in my proposal and asked whether I would consider taking that on instead. I was surprised, flattered and more than a little terrified.
I agreed, but soon began wondering whether they’d made a mistake. I struggled with imposter syndrome, constantly questioning whether I had the ability to complete a doctorate.
What kept me going was my supervisor. He lived interstate but regularly visited Sydney, and we’d meet in a coffee shop to discuss my progress. I’d arrive feeling embarrassed by what I’d written, painfully aware of its shortcomings. He would respond with enthusiasm, seeing possibilities where I could only see problems.
He was a joyful, encouraging person. I always left those meetings feeling uplifted, thinking that perhaps I could do this after all.
Of course, the confidence would gradually evaporate over the following weeks. By our next meeting, I’d be full of doubts again. And once again, he’d help me see what I couldn’t see for myself. I’m not sure I would have finished without him.
The curious thing is that I’d already spent years helping people grow, encouraging them to recognise possibilities in themselves that they hadn’t imagined. It was central to my understanding of ministry and education. Yet when someone did precisely that for me, I was surprised.
Perhaps we’re sometimes better at recognising potential in others than in ourselves. And perhaps even those of us who spend our lives encouraging others occasionally need to draw on someone else’s confidence.
Years later, I don’t remember much of what we discussed in those coffee shops. But I remember how I felt when I left.
What’s a small moment from your past that you still think about years later?
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