Do you remember when Susan Boyle's first performance went viral on the Internet? Awkward smiles and stifled giggles turned to utter amazement as the cameras panned the audience who first enjoyed her remarkable voice from a plain package. Her transformation before their approval was like watching a time lapse metamorphosis as she responded to their unexpected delight and encouragement. Cheers and tears marked the launch of a talented voice being noticed in a big way for the first time.
It took much self-control to resist buying a copy of her first CD as soon as it was issued. Requested as a Christmas gift, I knew someone in my loving family would be eager to buy it for their hard to buy for mother. Her voice accompanied me in the kitchen as I prepared Christmas dinner for our large and growing family. Her selection of music and her obvious talent were a joy to hear but I felt disappointed in the recording of the song that she sang in that first public performance. Why? What was missing?
After much listening, I decided that the difference in the first performance is that you could actually hear Susan responding to the audience responding to her! I knew it had been a visible change but didn't realize the transformation was something that could be heard until I listened to another recording for comparison.
Does this acknowledging others for something that they do or are when they feel invisible or unnoticed transfer into other areas of life? Absolutely! Consider these recent examples from intentional noticing on our drive home from our autumn vacation.
Even though it was late even for a late lunch, Lulu's in Sylva, NC was still crowded and we felt fortunate to be seated without a long wait. Our server was friendly, explaining in detail the lunch specials, getting drinks, clearing a nearby table, seating others, navigating the narrow paths between closely placed tables filled with happy diners. She'd been doing this for hours and I would catch sight of her out of the corner of my eye darting from table to table making sure everyone was taken care of. "You are amazing! You do everything! I hope they appreciate having you work for them!" I interjected as she returned with our beautifully presented meals.
"I think they do!" she responded, smoothing her shirt and standing a little straighter. I continued to watch her way for the next several minutes to see if the unexpected compliment affected her in any way. Indeed, it did. She was more animated and energized as she described the lengthy ingredient list in the lunch specials to the table across from us. There was a sparkle about her as she served another table and made short conversation.
After visiting a favorite gallery and antique store (which is really like a museum) down the street, we decided to check out the library's new setting in the former courthouse. We had been technology-free during most of the week away but needed a map to navigate another small town stop on our way home. The library in Sylva sets atop an enormous hill giving a long distance view of the rest of downtown and nearby neighborhoods. We asked to use their computers, explaining we were from out of town. A driver's license was all that was required to secure a password to access the information we needed. The forty-something clerk was serene and helpful and bundled up in winter clothes the way people who get lots of winter seem to dress at the first sign of cooler weather. "What a beautiful necklace! Was it a birthday present?" She explained that is was, a gift handmade by a dear friend, and her best friend's playful bantering in the giving of the gift.
As we were leaving, I turned around and went back to thank her for being so kind and helping us get to use their computers. "It was so nice to meet you, " she replied with a heartfeltness that let me know we could be friends if we lived there.
Simple words, Simple gestures. Simple slowing down and paying attention to someone else. Being the audience. Letting someone know that what they do and how they do it matters. Letting someone know they matter, even if you'll never see them again. Maybe, especially because you know you will never see them again.
You are the audience to some. Do they hear you cheering?
