Hi Reader,

I've hit a bit of an obstacle with this project. I'm not sure how to proceed, so I'm feeling my way forward. I thought I was clear, but some wonderful feedback from readers like you has helped me see some wrinkles. I doubt I'll be able to iron them all out, so I'm acknowledging that here and will keep trying to move forward.​​

This is where I wanted to go next:

Any problem that someone contacts tech support about isn't a real problem. It's a symptom.

I don't say that to dismiss the problem (or the symptom). Tech support's job is to fix the problem/symptom and they should do their best to accomplish that no matter how much blahblah I write. No, the reason I say it is to try to get clear about what's really going on, so that I can try to address the core issue.

The reason I know (or think I know) that the problem-as-expressed isn't the real problem is because other people have the same issue and it doesn't bother them. So it's a matter of perspective.

I'll give an example:

I spent a chunk of time this morning helping a customer tweak the margins of their emails. It was very... detailed. Many nits were picked. Now, I've worked with tens of thousands of customers, and no doubt many of them had exactly the same spacing issues this customer had. It just didn't bother them.

This shows us that what appeared as a problem for this customer is not in fact a problem. It just looked like a problem from this customer's perspective.

What I'm suggesting is that this is the case with all problems. And I suggest that in spite of my own resistance to the idea!

"No!" some part of me says. "MY problems are real, even if OTHER people's aren't!"

I think it would probably serve me well to let go of that particular piece of absurdity.

Now, where does that leave us? Again, I'm NOT trying to get out of solving any particular customer's problem. I am 100% invested in solving problems.

What I'm trying to get at is the fact that there are layers beneath our problems. And while it may not be my job to address those layers directly, I can orient myself toward healing in general. Because solving a problem, no matter how trivial, is a kind of healing. But if we're only healing symptoms—even if a customer walks away delighted that their presenting problem has been solved—the deeper layer that caused the perspective that revealed the problem to the customer still exists. Relieving a symptom does not heal the core issue.

And then, yaddayaddayadda, I was going to say what heals the core issue? Listening!

But after the last couple weeks that started to feel wrong.

So instead of taking that step, I'm going to try to follow my intuition in.... THIS direction:

One of my reservations as I was thinking about this this week sounded like this: "Michael, you're doing tech support, not counseling. Tech support is tech support, it's not mental health or spiritual wellness."

And that's right. I see now that a couple weeks ago when I wrote that the "real" problem was I'm suffering and alone and I don't know what to do what I was trying to express was the problem at the bottom of all the layers of problems.

What tripped me up this week, though, was that even that problem seems like it must be a matter of perspective. Sure, suffering and aloneness go deep. But don't healing and connection go at least as deep?

So I think what I'm fumbling my way towards here (or perhaps just fumbling to clearly articulate) is that healing at any level is an expression of healing at the deepest level, whatever "the deepest level" is. I wasn't clear on this a couple weeks ago, and I think you may have picked up on that. And then I felt like a bit of a fraud for trying to incorporate some kind of deep existential quandary into every ordinary tech support interaction. That's not what I was trying to do, and I see now that's not where I was headed.

That's not to say that solving someone's tech problem can't be an expression of universal healing. It can be. But it can also be an instance of just trying to get rid of an irritating customer.

And whichever it is, the customer can sense that. When a customer says something like "I wish I got more empathy in tech support," I think they're trying to point to the fact that they felt more like they were being seen as the problem instead of feeling like they were getting some healing. Is there anything worse than showing up to the doctor and being told "it's all in your head"? (Even if there is a fundamental kosmic joke that, actually, it IS all in your head!)

So the choice that's available to me is to orient myself towards healing, or not. It's not that I'm trying to do counseling or therapy or give spiritual solace. It's that I'm seeing my work as a reflection of the deeper layers of suffering that lie beneath it, and in taking that perspective I'm re-minded of the importance of the work and can gladly get to it, even when it's nitpicky or unpleasant. Instead of just trying to get through it.

Now, here's the kicker: taking this perspective pulls me out of my victim mindset, sets me on a path of responsibility and self-determination, and ultimately heals me. And shows me once again that all healing is self-healing. I can clean your wound but only your body can heal it. And that's all tech support is: cleaning out wounds. Whether that's followed by some healing is up to the person on the other end.

But what, my friends, does this give us about how we might do training for tech support folks? What does it tell us about how companies might support their support folks? Isn't the reality of tech support for so many people just like one reader expressed: just doing my job?

Hopefully I can pull that particular language rabbit out of the hat of possibility in the next couple weeks.