To the Protege: Shower the People
"Russell!" she seemed to scold. The psychic assault came from behind me. Being human, I just assumed I inadvertently overstepped my bounds, overstayed my welcome, or stepped on someone's toe...in a proverbial sense, of course. Slowly turning, wincing, and preparing for a barrage of shaming insults, correctives, and maybe expletives, I froze. The face marching toward me with the velocity of a torpedo was NOT one screwed up in anger and offense, but one bent on arresting my attention. The face was bright with the smile of someone who found her lost puppy unexpectedly. She continued, "Russell! You're leaving?!?” It was both a question of unbelief and congratulatory exclamation.
My statue-like frozen pose tightened, partially bracing for the impact as the amicable torpedo closed in on its target—me—but, also because the news of my new job was already filtering out of my private circle of "confidantes," through the air conditioning duct system of friendly gossip and social networking. "Yes, I have accepted a new role...but it will be a while before I go."
I was unprepared for what happened next.
She loved me.
Although my "on-time arrival" for the meeting 10 meters away was obviously going to be delayed indefinitely, I relaxed into what became one of the most unexpected showers of appreciation, compliment, and admiration I had ever experienced in my professional life.
She told me what my presence in the organization, in the community, in her team meant to her. She told me what life was like before I came. She told me stories of how she benefitted from my contributions indirectly, in the shadows, in my peripheral vision. She affirmed my approach to relationships, work, and collaboration. She lamented what she deemed things would be like in my absence. She asked me if it was truly necessary that I go. She expressed positive envy and celebration for the team that would welcome me months from now.
She told me my life mattered.
James Taylor, long-loved meso-tenor folk-rock crooner has a simple song I love to lead off with when I join in at karaoke. It's message is simple: "Shower the people you love with love...show them the way you feel...things are gonna work out fine, if you only will."
He ends the songs with a soulful adlib of “Make it rain...”
Friends, mentors walk among us, they walk beside us, and at times, they walk beyond us. They come in the forms of peers, colleagues, teachers, counselors, sponsors, bosses, staff, family members, role models, and friends. They give of themselves often unaware of how they matter to us. Most of them are the sort that are content to be heard and not seen, to remain off stage as cheerleaders of others’ lives.
Take time to shower them with your love. Say thank you, let them know that you notice them.
Give them a shower.
