A late night back home, the penultimate train, after a couple of hours in Soho with Rachel, who called up a friend.
Let me explain; we all have dreams, wild ambitious, sometimes half baked and cooky, but they are our dreams.
We toy with them in our heads, occasionally we allow them out and then put them in their pens again.
At times, after a drink or two ( Orange juice) we splutter and meander what it is in a circuitous way that only friends would entertain the pregnant pauses and 20: 20 stares.
And then when we do, some friends sagely looking into their beers, others shrug their shoulders and then there is the Rachel.
What did that mean? Why did that happen? What will that do? Who is that for?
A litany of questions, non threatening, but interrogative, whose purpose is designed for you to dig deeper, explain simpler, see farther.
Rachel is like that.
She's a colleague of mine, but more than that, an unassuming scholar, a practicing medical doctor who gave up the oath to pursue her own dreams and one of those seems to be how she can help those unlock what they wish they could unhinge.
Everyone needs a Rachel.
By the time I finished up to leave, I was much clearer of several questions I have myself shied away from. Her friend a senior exec in Microsoft agreed Rachel is an extraordinary person.