You could learn a lot from a baby

You could learn a lot from a baby.

Gene Mage

Harried shoppers carrying baskets of beef jerky, wasp spray, and other essentials of life, jostle for position in front of the express lane. The line grows longer as the cashier makes a price check on a sack of fried pork rinds. Murmurs begin to buzz among impatient patrons shifting their weight back and forth on tired feet. A bead of sweat makes its descent from the balding summit of a heavy-set man in a black t-shirt. We can feel the tension in the fever heat of that interminable wait. Something has to give. This is how riots start.

Then something breaks the spell. A baby peeks up over the shoulder of one young woman. Little rolls of fat surround a chubby cheerful face so clearly delighted to have a captive audience. Catching the eye of a man carrying a selection of bargain-bin DVDs, the cherub’s eyes open wide as little hands make waves of merry wonderment. Both actors in this little drama smile and make little baby noises. The infant blows tiny bubbles across its pink lips. Everyone in line starts watching the show.

Now a grandmotherly patron joins the proceedings, setting several two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew on the belt to free her arms for more important things. The young mother and the grandmotherly shopper communicate one to another in the secret code reserved for those in the maternal profession. With a look of relief, the young mother hands the baby to the grandmotherly customer, grateful for the gift of a few baby-free seconds. The grandmother cradles that baby, and all is right with the world.

It is still hot. We are still waiting in line. But the presence of that baby instantly transforms the experience for us. We are no longer competitors in some sort of sick race. We become members of a community, sharing our joys, and easing one another’s burdens.

It is still hot, but it feels cooler. Palpable refreshment flows amongst that checkout line just as clearly as if someone kicked on a giant industrial air conditioner.

What changed? What force of nature altered the attitudes of an entire group of strangers? Only one thing changed. We noticed the baby. And in the presence of someone so totally free and happy in the moment our own chains began to fall away. The baby was not eloquent. They baby shared neither insight nor expertise. The baby was just authentic, present, and reveling in the joy of being a baby. The baby was generous with its affection. The baby was curious. The baby reached out to others. The baby offered a stark and refreshing contrast to our miserable adultness.

Dear friends, when did our joy begin to fade? How did we ever end up on this miserable treadmill? How did we find ourselves encased within horrible self-made prisons of pretense? Who stole away our authenticity and generosity of spirit? What would happen if we rediscovered those long lost attributes within ourselves?

After the careers come to a close, the money gets spent, the accomplishments surpassed, and the accolades fade, we will remember a few important things. Not what we bought. Not what we did. Not who we fooled with our phoniness. We will remember little points of connection between ourselves and others. We will remember those times when we felt safe enough to be real and lived to tell the tale. We will remember those times when we offered safe harbor to another against the winds of judgment and condemnation. We will remember those relationships filled with mutual admiration and liberal praise.

Want to be influential? Want to make a difference in this world? Get real. Be generous. Connect. Affirm others. Drop your carefully crafted image. Take the risk to be yourself. Be present and joyful. Dare to be a refreshing contrast, a cool breeze of authenticity moving through a hot and irritable world.

For more ideas on becoming “Free to Lead” from Leadership Development Author and Speaker Gene C. Mage, visit www.makingitwork.com.