Advice versus Counsel Musing

(for an update, see TGIF from April 2007)

As a frustrated member of the Society of the Single, I'll admit it: I've turned to the Internet to help me find the love of my life, since he wasn't sitting at the bar at Third Street (or dancing on the bar at the Buckhorn), ordering a latté to match mine at Coal Creek or browsing the Classics aisle at Hastings at the same time that I was. Because of this lack of love-at-first-site opportunities, I figured that the Internet has at least as much to offer as the Buck.

My mom is a staunch advocate of eHarmony. I don't know why. She has a friend whose daughter "dated" several people from eHarmony (read: they e-mailed a few times), but when it came down to the guy she married, she sure didn't meet him via the 99 (or however many) dimensions of personality compatability. She met him at church. I'm not even sure my mom would know how to find eHarmony on the Internet. I could be severely underestimating her. She's learned how to Google things, when she remembers that Microsoft Outlook is not the same thing as Internet Explorer (try explaining to someone who's not Web-savvy why their "favorites" bar isn't next to the "send" button ...)

I tried eHarmony. I really did. That free personality profile that they offer? I got three pages into it (out of, I think 12 pages), and at the end of the third page, I had an identity crisis. I didn't know myself anymore. I wasn't sure of my own name. My favorite color. Whether I liked coffee or not. Who my daddy was. None of it. Three pages of questions, and I lost myself. I thought this was a bad sign, like maybe I didn't have a personality after all. So I talked to my mother about it. My mother, despite the e-mail vs. Internet kerfluffle, has gone from knowing nothing (when I was 13) to knowing everything (now that I'm in my 20s and realize that I'm the one who knows nothing).

"I don't know who I am anymore. I tried to fill out that eHarmony thing, and I don't know who I am anymore. I didn't even get halfway through it."

"Okay."

"What's my name?"

She laughed at this point. I decided I'd better not ask who my daddy is.

She proceeded to tell me how, when she and Dad were going through pre-marital counseling, the pastor would ask the same questions, or variations of the same questions, every session. And Dad's answers remained rock-solid the whole time. Not once did he vary or change his mind or wish or wash on anything. But that's my dad. He's just a solid character, in a lot of ways. Mom, on the other hand, changed her answers almost by session. They've never told me what the questions were or even what they dealt with, but they were apparently weighty enough that, at the end of the counseling, the pastor advised them to not get married. He didn't foresee a long marriage ahead of them. He'd go ahead and marry them, if that's what they wanted, but he was just warning them ...

That pastor got a card announcing their 30th wedding anniversary a few years ago ...

The lesson I was supposed to take (or that I took, regardless) from this parable was that wishy-washiness apparently runs in the female genes of our family. Or maybe just in my mom and me. Either way, she didn't see it as a cause for concern. And she still is pushing for eHarmony. I'm still wary of approaching that personality profile. What happens if I actually am able to figure out who I am long enough to answer those 12 pages of questions ... and I don't agree with whatever personality they decide I have? I kind of feel like it would be a waste of time, of mental and emotional energy ... and I don't want to stare at a computer screen, begging to have my life back.

So I've wimped out on the eHarmony option. Too complicated. For now. Instead ... I headed over to match.com. A shorter profile to fill out, and it can be changed. What am I reading? Well, it's different from what I was reading six months ago. What do I look for in a guy? After dating a few of them, those expectations may have changed. What are my favorite hot spots? Depending on the time of year, some spots just aren't so hot ... I like this. It fits my undecided personality. And I can browse prospects without having to go through 50 levels of compatability and matching ...

The story with this chapter of "Wild Kingdom: Internet Dating" is still being written. There's been good, okay, and one kind of creepy guy in Colorado ... oh, and the completely narcissistic bodybuilder who posted almost nothing but oily, half-naked photos of himself, seducing/glaring at the camera, fingers raking his bleeeeeeeached blonde hair. I got a good laugh out of that one.

One of the services that match.com offers, though, is an advice "magazine" with tips on everything from what to wear for your first date to what to do when you're not wearing anything. And everything in between. And while some of it is entertaining, not much of it is really very useful. Not to me, at least. It's generic, like buying five copies of women's magazines and getting the same relationship or housekeeping or pantry-organizing advice packaged in five different ways. I'm sure I read the toned-down version of this same advice in "Seventeen" magazine when I was in high school. The advice hasn't changed. It's just that now, I don't have to leaf through fifty pages of Calvin Klein ads to get to the one page with information on it. I can just point and click my way through it.

But that's advice, and that brings me (finally) to the point: The difference between advice and counsel.

"Advice" is typically something you find on a dating Web site, or buried in a ladies' or teen magazine, or sometimes scrawled on a bathroom wall. Advice is pretty generic. Advice doesn't get deep; advice doesn't speak to me, to Sarah, sitting at a desk in Wyoming. Advice is cheap. Everyone has advice, good, bad and yet to be decided.

Counsel ... counsel is something you seek from someone you trust. Counsel isn't a list of five ways to get the man of your dreams or the top ten celeb tips for making your man jealous. Counsel is wisdom ... but wisdom you can understand, usually on the first try, unlike some of those proverbs and riddles and things ...

Counsel is calling your mom and asking her what her experience was in a similar situation, how she handled it, whether she has any ideas ... but it's not a list of things to do. Counsel is given with the idea that the person receiving it is smart enough to deduce what is the best course of action for their own life.

Counsel involves wisdom ... or maybe it's the other way around. Wisdom and counsel go hand-in-hand, though. Wisdom is gained by seeking counsel, usually counsel from people you trust, and you usually trust them because they're proven to be wise, steady people whose advice (for lack of a better word) has proven wise in the past.

So here's my advice: Ditch the advice column and call your mom. Or your brother. Or your best friend. They probably have some good counsel for you. And it's probably more tailored specifically for you, too.