From time to time, when I find myself feeling distracted and/or discouraged from living from a place of power and purpose, I go back to the magical memory of encountering the Shoe Doctor several years ago...
I'm walking down a long concourse of DFW Airport, past endless stretches of gleaming metal and glass surfaces, with countless glitzy advertisements and shopping opportunities vying for travelers' attention at every step. Those folks who aren't busy buying something or hurrying somewhere tend to be wearing their Waiting Masks, slumped in chairs and staring off into space.
A CHANCE ENCOUNTER
But there is one singularly, bright and lively exception at work in the middle of DFW Terminal D, where an ordinary looking, but highly unusual man is holding court at his shoe shine stand, wielding a can of polish in one hand, a brush in the other, and a smile as big as Texas on his face. When asked, he politely declines to share his given name and points to the back of his jacket which clearly states his preferred title in big, bold letters: THE SHOE DOCTOR.
This man radiates so much joy that there's a small crowd gathered around his "operating room." Some are waiting their turn for a shine; others seem to be glancing at their canvas running shoes regretfully, knowing that they're disqualified from being treated by The Doctor today. Most, like me, are simply watching in fascination at his single-minded concentration and palpable sense of joy as he applies layers of leather cleanser, conditioner, polish, and finish to the shoes in front of him.
My plane is scheduled to begin boarding pretty soon, but there's been a slight delay. Plus, I can't seem to tear myself away, so I decide to take a seat and wait my turn. The man seems friendly enough, answering or asking questions as they arise, but he's clearly not one of those service-industry guys who hustles tips by buttering up his customers with jokes or small talk. No, it's obvious that Doc's top priority is making sure that each and every shoe he handles will shine as brightly as possible when he's done.
A DIFFERENT LEVEL
When I was young, my father was adamant that each of his six sons take good care of their own shoes. That meant that, at the very least, we had to polish them every Saturday night in preparation for church the next morning. Keeping my shoes shined has been a habit ever since. But it's obvious that the Shoe Doctor operates at a completely different level. When I ask him how he managed to make my footwear glisten so much brighter than I (or any other shoe-shine professional) had ever managed before, he answers with twinkling eyes: "because I LOVE doing this!" In response to my quizzical look, he went on: "When you - or almost anybody else - shine your shoes, it's a chore, right? You just want to get it done, and get on to something else. But when I'm doing this, there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than getting your shoes to shine as bright as I can. Period." He obviously meant it, and his proof lies in a gloss like I'd never seen on my shoes before.
A RENEWED DESIRE
The Doctor's joy is infectious, and I can't help grinning as I hand him a generous tip and stroll down the concourse, feeling like a million bucks. Boarding my plane right on time, that shine radiates from the tip of my toes to the end of my nose, and I feel a renewed desire to use my skills and tools to do what I can to make the world a shinier, brighter place, too. Thanks, Doc!
With gratitude and blessings,
Rudi
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