Naina’s laugh arrived a few seconds before she did. She burst into my office with a kind of excitement only twelve-year-olds can summon—part hope, part curiosity, and just a dash of well-contained mischief. Her mother followed closely behind, eyes scanning the books on the shelves, the paintings on the walls, as if hoping they’d offer some insight into what kind of place this was. What kind of counselor might I be.

They were here to explore “potential.” A word that often hides both pride and anxiety for parents. Naina had just begun to stretch her intellectual limbs, showing promise in science and writing. But more importantly, she was curious—curious about everything from Greek myths to growing mint in a jar on her balcony.

We began not with aptitude tests or report cards but with a conversation. I handed her a blank sheet titled “What Lights You Up?”—a simple worksheet that would become our compass. With colored pencils and prompts about favorite books, projects, and even the things that confused her, Naina started sketching her world.

Over the next few sessions, I noticed that Naina thrived when she could create something tactile. We brought in clay, mind maps, and storytelling prompts to help her express emerging interests. The idea of time management was introduced as a “time garden”—where she could choose what to water, what to prune, and what to weed out.

Through these playful exercises, we also helped the parents see beyond academic milestones. They started asking questions like, “What would help Naina wake up excited next week?” rather than, “Should we prep for boarding school entrance exams?”

By the end of our engagement, Naina had enrolled in a weekend robotics class and kept a sketch diary about animals she hoped to study someday. The family chose to stay the course with her current school, now viewing it as fertile soil rather than a limiting pot. “Naina wakes up with a mission,” her mom said with a smile. I smiled too, knowing the mission wasn’t to succeed, but to grow.