A Stranger Tells Me His Secret

Many of my flair moments in the past 90 days occurred during conversations with strangers: the tired woman at the grocery store,  the neighborhood boy,  the hard-working Amish man, the precious waitress who gave my daughter a bad day mantra, the mean people at the drive-thru, that wonderful unknown woman who gave me the complement that changed my life, the curious woman and her service dog, the man at Starbucks, the man chasing trash in the parking lot, or the little boy explaining why he loves the rain because it makes the worms come out.

Remembering these conversations--and the flair they brought forth--reminds me to challenge myself to engage more with people who cross my path.

There's flair there, I just know it.

I am leaving a restaurant, and a man whose job it is to hold open the door greets me with a big smile.  He proudly holds open the door with such gusto I have to stop.

"Thank you!"  I say happily.  And then again:  "Thank you so much."

He smiles bigger (if that were even possible).  This employee is happier than he should be in this heat with this on-your-feet job.   I have to find out why. 

I say, "When you hold the door like that, it makes us all feel like celebrities."

He frowns and shakes his head.  He says, "You should feel like that all the time, not just when somebody is holding a door."

"All the time?  How is that possible?"  I say, my arms crossed.  The rest of my party is already in the parking lot, and I'm hanging around to talk to a strangely happy man.

"Above ground," he says softly.

"Huh?"

"Above ground," he repeats.

I lean in and whisper, "What in the world does that mean?"  People stream past us, a whole crowd of them, and I'm ducking my head back and forth to try and maintain eye contact.

He waves his hands like he's shooing me away.  I stand my ground.

"I'd have to explain it and it takes too long," he said.

"Well," I say, raising my eyebrows.  This was flair, and I wasn't about to leave it.

"OK," he says, the crowd thinning so he can give me some time.

"You just say to yourself that you're above ground.  You aren't stuck where you are, on this ground.   It's not about where your feet are or where you are hanging out.  You can be above it--above it all.   You are above ground.  Do you get it?  It's not about where you are or what you are doing.  That's why you can be the celebrity every day."

He's already on to other parties.  He's like a rock star that bothered to take a moment to talk to the little people.  He's big stuff, the real deal, and he's happy.  

And I'm writing down his words, learning from a stranger, because he was there, above ground, holding the door for me.