Choosing to be Amazing

     I work with some amazing people. Generous, stylish and detail-oriented, they bring a sense of class and style to the mundane, elevating the simple to sensational.
     Here’s an example: When I left work on Monday, someone had left behind on the island in our kitchen/breakroom a plastic bag containing some bakery-fresh cookies, a generous gift that everyone could share. The next morning, the cookies had been moved. In their place was a wire basket, with the cookies artfully placed inside.
     It was a masterful move. Someone could have simply helped himself to a cookie and closed the bag back up, but instead decided to be amazing and turned somebody else’s nicety into a VIP-worthy presentation.
     Earlier today I had to drive to the airport. On the way back, I stopped at a Chick-fil-a for lunch and a bathroom break. I know that the Eat Mor’ Chikin culture prides itself on expressions of graciousness, but at its core it is a fast food restaurant. The expectations aren’t particularly high.
     So, when I walked into the brown-tiled toilet, I was pleasantly surprised. It was clean, really clean. It smelled nice, really nice. Someone had mounted a shelf on the wall and placed a candle and a couple of decorative knick-knacks on it. It was thoughtful and deliberate and appreciated. Someone could have chosen to spray a little bleach or run a damp mop over the floor and declared it clean, but instead decided to be amazing, adding decoration and air freshener to make the room clean and pleasant.
     Just as I entered the bathroom, I noticed an elderly man washing his hands. I only caught his profile, but he was clearly in his 80s, if not older. He had been a tall man in his younger years, but now was stooped slightly, leaning on the cane he uses for stability. He was taking a long time at the counter. So long, in fact, that I stole an awkward glimpse of him, just in case he needed assistance.
     He didn’t. Holding on to his cane with one hand, he was using the other to deliberately wipe down the counter around the sink. Every drop of splattered water and foaming soap disappeared as the paper towel in his hand moved in slow circles. This was not his job, but he is one of those people who choose to be amazing: This gentleman could have stopped with tossing his towel in the garbage, but instead he chose to remove every trace of water.
     Tomorrow, you can choose to do the basic, nice thing, but after my experiences today, I don’t think that’s enough. I hope you’ll look for the opportunity to do something amazing.     

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