It had been a long busy day, as many of them were in those days.
When working I try to take the time to really listen to the people I’m engaging with, and similarly when travelling for work I found I could enrich those connections if I took the time to understand their space, their town, their city; the background to their motivation.
I was spending a lot of time in Philadelphia on a project and even though I found myself there almost weekly there hadn’t been much down time for any sight seeing in what is arguably one of the most historically interesting cities in America. Today was different. It had been a good day and we had wrapped up early so I was on my way to the airport with a little bit of extra time in my pocket and no plan on how to fill it. And then I saw a sign…
Queue chorus singing, bells and sunlight…
No?
OK, how about an actual road sign for the Liberty Bell Center. I pulled over and checked the handy dandy Google and sure enough the center was still open for almost another hour and I was only 10 min away. Plan acquired!
Now, let’s leave a conversation about Philly traffic and one way streets to another day but for the sake of argument let’s say it was only 32 min later I locked the car and started the several block hike to the center; dressed for the office and not for the heat of what was now a stifling summer afternoon. I raced through the registration process, booted it (in my completely inappropriately high heeled sandals) past all of the copious historically informative panels spread throughout what felt like miles of corridors and made a beeline for my goal, the Bell. That’s what I came to see and gosh darn it, I had 7 whole minutes left to see it before closing! I made it with a minute to spare, and as I began to relax and catch my breath I took a picture, the one at the beginning of this post, so I could show people I was there.
Except it didn’t. Not really. I wasn’t in it.
You see we weren’t doing selfies in those days, heck I still had a camera. An actual, honest to goodness camera and I was alone. There wasn’t another patron in sight. So I took a picture, a picture like a thousand other pictures you could google and find for yourselves and I prepared to leave. It was past time now you see, and the gruff looking fellow in the uniform had heard the same announcement as I had, and he was looking even gruffer as he started walking towards me.
I had achieved my goal. I may have been uncomfortable and stressed on the journey towards it. I may have been hot, tired and possibly still a little out of breath from my power walk through the building. I may have been reluctant to leave the cool quiet of this place of reminiscing, but I had achieved it, and no one but myself would ever see it.
This would not do.
This was a success.
A small success, yes, but that’s what I challenge my clients to see; the small wins, the successes along the way to larger goals, and I was going to celebrate it to the fullest. Not really looking forward to the answer I turned towards the security guard at the exit and instead of leaving I smiled and asked him to take my picture. What did I have to lose. I was there, he was there and despite how disheveled I was sure I looked I wanted a record of this moment.
He paused; then he held out his hand. I smiled!
It was worth it you know. The struggle to get there. I don’t regret having gone for one second, even as I arrived hot and uncomfortably sweaty at the end of the corridor. It’s a beautiful artifact of one of the most transitional times in North American history. And you can feel the history as you stand there near enough to touch it.
Ummm, don’t actually touch it by the way, the big guys with gruff faces do have limits. 😉