I gave a few pep-talks this week. I have no way of knowing if my lightly solicited effusive texts of encouragement actually landed in the zone. The recipients said thanks, but I say “thank-you” even when someone gives me a speeding ticket, so that’s no proof of value.

I was on the receiving end a few motivational boosters, too. And they were bulls-eye perfect.

I got to wondering: what puts the pep in the talk? 

Last year, a friend messaged me out of the blue from the thick of her work-life: “You have to try this. Ask Chat GPT to give you a ‘drunk bestie pep-talk.’” It was suitably hilarious. Chat GPT did not sound like the demon that heralds the end of the world that I had cast it as. It sounded like a drunk best friend. Which was fun. Next time, though, I thought, I’ll text the friends I used to get drunk with and say, “hey girls, I don’t hear from you enough, and I love you forever. Remember when we’d drape ourselves over each other’s shoulders and slur, ‘I love youse guys, SSSSO much.’ I’m procrastinating/struggling/worrying, can you give me a pep talking drunk-ese?”

Because the question I keep returning to, thanks to a casual conversation many years ago with counsellor Tanya Richman, is “what do I want to strengthen?” She was sharing in the context of parenting teens through a pandemic and I doubt she had any idea that it would become one of my favourite lifelines, something I turn to all the time, forget about, then find again, like pocket change in last winter’s jacket, and feel even more delighted to rediscover. 

If I’m facing something tough and feeling low on motivation or self confidence, it’s a vulnerability to acknowledge that out loud. In that moment of vulnerability, do I want to strengthen my secret dependence on a large language model owned by a billionaire of dubious ethics that is aggregating all of my questions and vulnerabilities and working out what makes me tick? (I mean, you know I did, guiltily, ask ChatGPT to give me a pep talk as my research for this piece.) Or, do I risk exposing my belly to humans I know and feel affection for and have been affectioned by…  creating some mutual exposure and tenderness and trust between us. That is, in the moment, harder. But so much more rewarding.

Brene Brown, the patron saint of Vulnerability, said, in an appearance on Diary of a CEO, in November, “Vulnerability is the emotion we experience when we’re up against uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. Without vulnerability you can’t access the experiences that are the most meaningful in life, like love. People always ask me which comes first, trust or vulnerability. Do I trust you first, and then [let myself be] vulnerable? Or am I vulnerable first and then I trust you? I think it’s a very slow stacking. I get to know you a little, then I share. Start small. Vulnerability, trust, vulnerability, trust…” She layers her hands like she’s making an elaborate sandwich.

What makes vulnerability work as a life-enriching trait is that it’s not anonymous. The risk of exposure is real, so the reward is real. Asking for a lifeline means the bid might fall short, and most of us would prefer to avoid that sad hollow heartbreak. But it also could result in a veritable hammock of support strings shot out like spider silk from a thousand directions, from people who were happy to send a little boost your way. 

A longtime friend of mine became a midwife in her 30s and 40s, studying part-time while working and raising kids. When we ran into each other, she was about to graduate. I was in awe of her commitment to this path. “What made you think about midwifery?” I asked her. We had been 19 year old ski buddies, housemates, kids “doing a season” together. I had not known her in a context that would have suggested this path. 

“I discovered that I can sit with people while they’re doing hard things,” she explained, which might be the most beautiful distillation of a life path have ever heard.

I think she points right there to the art of a good pep-talk. Most of it’s power isn’t in the words. It’s in the companioning through something hard. It’s the unspoken acknowledgement that the person in need of the boost is the only person who can do this hard thing. That yes, it is hard. 

But here is someone on the sidelines flapping a hand-made sign at you, feeling proud of your courage, showing you that they’re invested in it. That’s what I see nestled in the heart of the word encouragement: courage. To help put someone’s courage back in their body, when it slipped out and they are sure it has gone permanently AWOL. Sure, Chat GPT insta-delivered me a rousing and articulate motivational speech. But I’d rather have the inarticulate “keep going” from someone who will greet me with bright eyes and a beating heart next time I see them, because what I get, from the pep-talk from a human, is a reassurance that someone can see me when I’m vulnerable, and stand by. And that is a true fuel for my courage to keep doing hard things.