“Will You Be My Mentor?”

A few days back a client told me, voice tense with frustration, that someone in their professional circle – a loose connection, not a close one – asked them, as a meeting wrapped, “Will you be my mentor?”

My client – let’s call them “Z” – hadn’t seen this coming, and, flummoxed, replied, “Uh… um… well… sure.” 

And felt waves of regret. And overwhelmed by what they’d just agreed to. 

Let’s break this down through the lens of neuroscience, and explore alternatives that could have been more appropriate and satisfying for both people involved. 

First, “Z.” Here’s how they described their experience.

“What the actual heck (the word wasn't actually “heck”)? Don’t they realize how much I have going on? Do they think I’m going to take time out of my day, or even my week, to tell them stuff they should be figuring out for themselves or taking some sort of online class for? 

“I mean, can’t they go to LinkedIn Learning (not a plug; repeating what my client said) or ask somebody else to help them out?”

Clearly, my client didn’t want to say yes to the request. 

But because they lost presence of mind in that moment, they stepped into what felt like a trap.

What they COULD have done in this moment, and what I feel sure they’ll do should ever something like this arise in the future, is the classic “A - B - C.” 

A: AWARENESS. “Z” felt a jolt through their body that signaled something worth paying attention to. Some might call this a hijack; I would. They felt, literally felt, a physical signal that the brain quickly converted into an emotional reaction. And once reactive emotions are involved, anything can happen.

Being AWARE, feeling it, is Step One in preventing a hijack. And a signal to go to B….

B: BREATH. Hijacks create reactivity. Reacting fires emotional and cognitive circuitry that shows up as what’s generally known as “Fight or Flight,” although that model in my O deserves an update. In a way it’s gotten one: the list of reactive “F” words has grown to include Freeze, Faint, Fawn, Flock, Feed, and others. 

The ever-growing list of “F” words hints at how threat reactions can be shifted by conditioning or forms of trauma – a post for another day. 

The point is what to do when Awareness kicks in so that an “F” word doesn’t shape what happens next. 

That "what to do?" Simply... BREATHE. One aware, intentional breath. 

A hijacked brain is chemically altered (thanks, amygdala). The neurochemistry of a hijack triggers a lot of things, including constriction of the blood vessels that deliver oxygen (along with glucose) to the prefrontal cortex (PFC) – the home of intentional and high-level ways of processing information. 

Want objectivity? Want presence of mind? Then you need your PFC, and even one intentional breath favors the possibility of it coming, even a little, online. 

There’s another reason to think “breath.” The brain’s left hemisphere is the side associated with fast answers, pursuit of outcomes, and binaries like “yes” / “no” and “good” / “bad.” 

The right hemisphere is more about shades of grey, nuance, context, and all sorts of big-picture things – yet it’s a tidge slower (and a whole lot more conditioned to take the back seat) than its partner on the left.

Yet right hemispheric thinking is generally more effective and even appropriate for complex scenarios than is the left. 

One breath favors at least the possibility of the bigger-picture  right side coming online. Yes, even in the moment it takes to complete one breath cycle, science shows that you gain access to different regions, and thus functions, in the brain. Yet for more time and more options, move to … C. 

C: CURIOSITY. With practice, that “B” (breath) can ease the brain to a powerful next step: getting more information. You don’t need Daniel Kahneman to tell you: better information guides the brain (and you) to better outcomes. A go-to query can be as simple as saying “Say more about that.” I’ve heard myself ask that with a wavering voice as it replaced words my triggered self wanted to say but would have regretted.

It’s interesting what comes up as people answer that “Say more about that.” Sometimes folks share useful information that helps me see a bigger picture, even one I hadn’t expected before I’d asked for more information. 

Sometimes they reveal their own emotional landscape, their own confusion or “story” or some sort of hijack. If they Fawn (I call this “Filling Air With Noise”) or start to prove, explain, or justify (more here), I can respond with empathy or perhaps support, protecting my own boundaries or even separating from the conversation in an appropriate way. 

I might acknowledge their need to be heard, ask for time to think about a response, or even bring myself back to presence, that in-the-moment mental state where we can access objectivity, break habitual thought patterns, and safeguard boundaries rather than say or do things we might regret. 

Presence might have led “Z” to gain information that supported a better outcome than their reactive “Um… sure” would lead to. After all, if “Z” regrets their decision or even resents agreeing to what felt like a burdensome ask, that “mentor” thing isn’t going to work out well for either person involved. 

With presence, a curious question might have been something like, “What does having a ‘mentor’ mean to you?” or “Tell me why you would want me to be a mentor?” 

With presence, "Z" might have said, “This feels like something I’d want to think about,” or asked for an email summarizing the asker's hopes and expectations about the relationship. "Z" could have asked them to outline a plan for three months of mentoring, asked them to circle back in a month, or pretty much anything other than dropping a reactive and regrettable “Yes.” 

I’ve been asked to be a mentor a few times, and I’ve definitely disappointed people by not saying yes. Yet in every case I’ve explained why I wasn’t available (“I can’t say ‘Yes’ without saying ‘No’ to priorities I’ve already committed to,” and once, a legit conflict of interest) and offered a suggestion for what they might do instead. 

Once it was to sit in on a few staff meetings I led with my team. A couple of times it was sharing a list of resources that have influenced me the most. Once someone proposed organizing a few group meetings with like-minded peers; that I said “Yes” to, and I really enjoyed it. 

Maybe you can think of better responses, though those are the ones I came up with – and I couldn’t have done so when triggered into my reactive mind. 

I can understand how some people reading this might think I’m being selfish, and that the right thing to do would have been to answer “Yes” and take that mentee on (my views on “selfish” here). 

Maybe. Yet I’ve come to see that reactive agreements to unscalable and unsustainable actions leave me showing up in ways misaligned with how I want to show up in the world. They drain my energy and power and weaken my sense of purpose. 

And probably result in a disappointing outcome for the person or thing I’ve agreed to. 

I acknowledge that I may not be able to give them what they asked for, yet I try to offer something of value. Even if all that is is saying how I wish I had the bandwidth or focus to grant their request. 

That, of course, only if it’s truthful and authentic. Start violating honesty and it’s a slippery slope. 

If a counterpoint or addition came to mind for you as you read this, I’d love to hear it. Drop your thoughts into comments and I will respond, or DM me and I’ll offer what I can. 

Because the more I learn about the brain (and the people who use it) the more I realize how much I have to learn. So whatever you offer? Thank you. I’ll take it as a lesson from a really helpful mentor.