July 24, 2012 by David Gillaspie
Building anything makes you a better person.
You needed something, so you built it.
You saw something and couldn’t find it again, you built it.
You wanted it bad enough to build it.
You want to know what it feels like to build? Ask the person with the longer marriage, the woman whose career shifted and she stayed afloat; ask the guy who builds a million dollar house with a home brew station and herbarium.
The feeling is one of want, or wanting to do it again.
That’s what builders do. They build. That’s what you do too, in case you were wondering.
Most times we build and don’t know it. Smile at a stranger and if the smile back is warm and genuine, you’ve built a moment.
Buy a second pair of shoes the same as the first and build brand loyalty.
From the concrete like, er, concrete and steel, to the even stronger bonds between people, every minute is a chance to build. And that’s exactly what’s going on with or without our awareness.
This explains it better:
My wife and I take a drive through town. She asks me to roll down my window. I do. She says, “Thank you.”
Normal conversation up until then, right? Except I take the teaching moment to ask her to cut the phony manners when we’re alone. If she needs to say please and thank you and you’re welcome at every chance to impress her buddies, fine. Just include me out.
From nice drive on a beautiful day to a defense of manners?
1.5 seconds, or however long it takes to draw a breath.
Needless to say, dear reader, your faithful blogger now understands the true meaning of manners and how they build bridges between people who otherwise have no use for one another.
My win is saying please, thank you, and you’re welcome in any sequence and still getting good manners credits.
The frosting on this particular donut is my wife learning what “Why bless your heart” means in the Carolinas.
Bless her heart.