Most people I know who are in my age bracket — mid-20s to mid-30s , let’s say— have a really weird perception about advice: they think there’s lots of it to go around. The word mentor has become some kind of ego-stroking, farcical, self-promotive noun that a lot of wannabes append to the end of sentences that being with “I”: “I have a mentor… [implied: therefore, I am a big deal].”

Advice is a complex concept, but we’ve come to conflate it with the less nuanced notion of opinion. Everyone has an opinion; very few people can give advice.

Advice is valuable. Those who give away opinions masquerading as advice are peddling fool’s gold that they themselves even think is the real deal.

I’ve received very little real advice in my life, and all of it I’ve asked for. I’ve asked it of people for whom I have deep respect, and only after careful deliberation as to whether I truly need to ask them to waste their time on me. And you know what? I’ve gotten some great input.

On the other hand, I can’t remember ever having received profound input from anyone who offered it to me without my asking for advice about something specific.

People who offer “advice” haphazardly have probably reached their zenith, because they think their opinions are worth bestowing unto others. The folks who will someday give truly life-changing advice are the ones who shut the fuck up and listen, contemplate, and remain stoic in the face of most of your problems, until, one day, they hear someone ask them truly for help with something they deeply understand; then they make suggestions, which never begin with “You should.”