People Do Not Understand the Magic of “Being” “But… What do you DO?”

Through the last few years, I’ve figured something out. People want “an elevator pitch.” They want to ask the question “what do you do,” and within a few sentences, they want you to be able to regurgitate a “pitch” telling them exactly what your “value” contribution is in the whole wide world of “things that get done.”

Humans simply do not understand “being.”

When I was younger, I rejected the “what do you do” question. It started because of a guy I was sleeping with when I studied in London during my undergraduate years. I kept asking him “what do you do,” and I was always met with some semblance of “what does it matter?” Eventually, tired of my prying, he pointed out to me that the question was uniquely American. Feeling seen and inadequately programmed, I decided he was right; the question didn’t matter, and, to be quite honest, I feared it was making me less attractive to him.

After undergrad, and through the next twelve years of primarily working in hospitality, the question irked me for different reasons. Saying what I “did” for a living made people discount my abilities, my intelligence, and my divine power. When I’d tell people what I “did” they’d seemingly stick me into a box that was labeled “incapable,” so I started avoiding the question. These beliefs are probably not inclusive to all people, but they were fueled by my mother, who often called my work “menial.” Before her input about how I lived life, I was rarely plagued with “not enough.” I have since flushed it from my system, but that’s another story.

Since 2020, I have feverishly and prolifically created a new life for myself. I’ve taught myself a new profession, built a brand and business, learned countless skills, taken on clients, made good money, and created an entire world around me that did not exist before.

I now have what I believe the “doers” of the world respect… And… yet… that is not what I believe gives me value.

I’ve found that my gift in this world is simply my existence. And yet, when I give that to people as an explanation of who I am, it’s rarely enough, or understood by them.

“But what are you doing? Who are you? What would you like to DO here? What would you like to GET out of this?”

I was asked these questions this week by a variety of people, all of them seemingly wanting an elevator pitch.

Even when I say I am a writer, people follow it with “but WHAT do you write? What is it?”

They want to hear some sort of tangibility to it. They want to know what my writing’s purpose is.

“Is it copyrighting? Scripts? Movies? Books? WHAT is it? WHAT?! WHAT DOES IT DOOOOOOO IN THE WORLD? TELL ME WHAT YOU DOOOOO I AM SO CONFUSED!”
…🤮

And yet, the writing… has no purpose, except to exist. I go into the world, live my life, and then I write about it. The writing doesn’t “earn me money” (save for about a thousand bucks from Substack and whatever clients I’ve acquired from it.) It doesn’t serve any “goal.” I don’t sit down with an “objective.” I go into the world, exist, and then write about it.

My value in the world is my existence, and that existence is one where I don’t do very much.

A few months ago, I read an article on BizCatalyst 360° by David Ford entitled “They All Have a Name.”

It was short, so I’ll quote the entire piece here:

“The next time you are in a store, gas station, or some other place of business, take a moment to notice the name of the person across the counter from you. Make eye contact and greet them.

They are not invisible people. They are fellow human beings. They are someone’s son, daughter, sister, brother, wife, or husband and we have no idea of what they are dealing with that day.

They face joy, sadness, and struggles in life just like us and they have hopes of a better day and better tomorrow just like us.

The simple act of acknowledging them and saying their name can go a long way to make them feel appreciated.”

David, I get it. I feel your intentions and they’re pure and loving, but respectfully, I’ve done this work my entire life. I even do it now, on weekends. I promise you, knowing my name is the last thing I need, want, or desire. Often, it makes things irritating and awkward. Also, there’s a highly spiritual reason for my not wanting people to know it.

I am content to be an “it” because I am not insistent on holding an identity in that space.

(If you’d like to read more about the difference between “I-It,” “I-You,” and “I-Thou” relationships, google the work of Martin Buber.)

Maybe my being content to be an “it” is not true of every service industry professional, but for me it’s of the highest service. If you can get your little self out of the way for a few moments, and just exist, you’ll see how special and sacred your being really is.

As an example, Saturday night, a woman came in and at the end of her stay, without provocation, told me her husband died eight weeks ago. Within about 240 seconds I heard about death, confusion, loss, hospice, abuse, disconnection from body, wandering nomadically, and various degrees of displacement…

I asked, “Are you OK with touch?”

She said she was, but wasn’t always.

I asked, “Do you want to hold my hand?”

She took it, held it, and cried. As she held it, not really looking at me, she said “I can’t believe this is happening. This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done.”

I didn’t do anything. I was just there. You might say I did, even believe I did, but… it wasn’t me. This was just one of a thousand moments that have happened like this, all because I’m content to be no one. No part of “Andrea” or “Andee” was in that room. Just open space.

I don’t do anything. Like Tao, through me, all things are done. The energy I put into the space gives people permission to exist in their naked truths, safely. I don’t have to be anyone, because “I am.”

I write this because this week, I’ve been once again confronted with trying to tell people what I bring to the table. Usually, that involves the elevator pitch desire on their end, and this week was no different.

I felt I came up short in delivering that pitch.

What I said was that I enter spaces and I exist there. I am content to be myself, and I notice as I spend time in spaces, others become more content to be themselves. I have a power and gift in voice, and communication. When I exist in a space, other people feel more comfortable using their voices, and communicating.

That’s being, as I do nothing to make this happen. It happens on its own.

My BEing does not call for aggressive action. I’m not going to be a CEO who starts a company. I don’t say this as a call-to-action for a bunch of well-meaning readers to jump in here and tell me I don’t believe in myself. I am a powerful leader, and I believe in myself more than anyone or anything in the world.

I am simply 2nd trumpet in the orchestra, I don’t lead the melody with soloistic notes, but rather I’m the wingman, the accompaniment, making the entire piece of music sound amazing. I make the music richer.

It’s enough to be the wingman. It’s enough to just be a body in a room on a Saturday night, and have humans come in… and be… with me. I’m not on a quest for more, bigger, better. There’s sacred in my every moment.

I’m not here to do anything and I don’t have some sort of pitch about how that’s going to happen. I’m here to sit next to you. That is my function in this world. I’m here to exist. I want nothing more than that.

I don’t know why this is so hard for people to make peace with, but it’s all I have ever desired.