Today I’m going to share with you a story about the Revolving Door.
What, may you ask, do I mean when I say the “Revolving Door?”
Am I talking about politics and industry, you wonder? The secret intricacies of governments? The bowel (movements) of american politics?
I am, quite literally, talking about a revolving door.
You know, those doors that revolve and keep moving?
Yes. I’m talking about that. I’m also talking about a group of kids.
Why? You ask. What brought these random and seemingly completely-disconnected topics together into one blog post?
Only the most adorable thing ever.
Today, as I sat at my post at the registration table of our latest conference, held at the auditorium of an art museum, I saw something that I, at first, ignored.
A single child spiraling through the revolving doors at the entrance of the building. I looked back at my computer screen.
I heard the door again and looked up, thinking it might be a last-minute conference attendee rushing in to scoop up their badge. Nope. Just another kid, heaving the revolving door around with all their might.
Then another child ran through. A smaller one.
Huh? I thought to myself, in a half-hazed, middle-of-the-day, blank-computer-screen-stare sort of way.
This time I looked. And I mean, really looked. And there I saw it. A long line of elementary-aged kids anxiously waiting for their turn at the revolving door. Squeals of excitement sounded out from the crowd as each new child entered what appeared to be to them a miniature amusement ride.
A young teacher burst her head through the side door and apologized “Sorry for the noise!” she said. “They’ve never seen a revolving door before!” and then she popped back out to chaperone and direct the door traffic. One by one, each kid ran through, some slower, some faster, depending on their strength as compared to the heavyweight champion that was the door.
I couldn’t help but think two things:
- That the whole scene was unbelievably fabulous. and
- That the teacher was polite enough to think that I might need to hear an apology for something I really thought was completely fabulous.
But let’s keep talking about number one. There it was, right in front of me, the smallest of little things that make up life. One silly, taken-for-granted door that caught my perspective and flipped it during a single rotation. A door I usually bypass for the sake of time and not getting myself caught in anything.
There it turned, revealed in all its glory. A magical marvel that fired the imagination of and inspired a dozen kids.
I can only feel grateful that I was a witness to such a zestful moment.
Now, of course, I have to share it with you 🙂
Once you’ve dissected that candid moment, let’s take a look at what this moment reminds me of:
Freaking escalators, man! (or woman!)
The moral of this story?
Good shit. Wonderful shit. Funny shit. Refreshing shit. Happens in real life.
So put that in your revolving door and turn it.