As I understand the story, there was this writer for TV shows in Hollywood. He’d been a head writer for a few of the shows over the years, and had contributed to several of many others. He’d been a writer for nearly thirty years.
A friend of this writer’s had always admired his work, and was a really big fan the TV shows the writer had worked on over the years. So, one year for his friend’s birthday, the writer decided that he’d show the man around the studio and let him see how a TV show was put together.
When the friend showed up, he was bowled over. As the writer and his friend drove to the front gate of the lot, the writer introduced the security guard to his friend and got his friend a pass for the day. The friend was so overcome with excitement that he got out of the car, went right over to the security guard and shook his hand. He introduced himself and said how wonderful it was to meet him.
Now, the writer was a little uncomfortable. His friend just got all gushy over the guy in the booth that checks ID’s. Norm, the name of the security guard, had been somebody the writer had seen every day for nearly twenty years and was nobody special to the writer. When Norm handed the writer back his ID, something that had been exchanged between them thousands of times, the writer kind of rolled his eyes, referring to his friend’s excitement. Norm offered an understanding smile, and the writer drove to his office.
His friend’s attitude didn’t stop with the security guard. Everybody and everything his friend saw was always met with some form or fashion of the word “Wow.” The studio’s, the writer’s office, the sound stages, and the lights-seriously, the lights-were met with statements of awe.
After the day was done, the writer and his friend went out to dinner.
After the meal they had a cup of coffee. And the writer asked his friend about his trip. His friend said it was one of the best things he’d ever seen. “It was so cool!” And he went on and on about the descriptions of all he saw and how it made him feel. “I couldn’t say “Wow” enough throughout the day.”
Now the writer thought about this. His friend seemed profoundly affected by just about everything. Even the writer’s office. So the writer asked a question.
“Just throwing this out there,” the writer said, “you were even impressed about my office. No window, piles and piles of papers, and it smells like an ashtray. My chair has stuffing coming out of the upholstery, and the walls still have calendars on them from three years ago.”
“So I have to ask: Why were you so awestruck by everything you saw today?”
The friend sat back, smiled, and said, “In the past year, I lost my brother and my uncle. I saw a co worker succumb to cancer. And my daughter lost her job and moved in with me.”
“Then, I was diagnosed with cancer myself, and made the best of it throughout the process. I’ve been given good news as early as last week, but it’s something I have to give a great deal of attention to.”
The writer was speechless. His friend never shared any of this with him.
“It’s cliche to talk about how you appreciate things once you know you may never see them again. But my life wasn’t like that. I started saying, “wow” inside of my head years ago. I would make a point of saying “wow” just once a day.”
“I look at things differently. The first thing I saw when I was determined to say “wow” was my toilet paper roll. I’m sitting in the bathroom, thinking about life, when I came up with looking at one thing every day that I could look at that I could say “wow” about it. And there it was, right in front of me. I just never realized how cool toilet paper was. Those little serrated sheets that keep each piece easy to pull apart, the way it fits on the roll, and if you look at it really closely, you can see the weave in the paper, every so slightly.”
The writer started to giggle, and the friend said, “No, really, I’m serious. It’s quite beautiful. But, you know, I thought if the toilet paper, something I see every day, can make me say “wow,” all I have to do is adjust my focus a little.
“And it came just in time, too,” the friend continued, “I needed that change in perspective to see the beauty of things. It kept me sane through the pain. I had to appreciate the good in this life, or I would have lost my mind.”
The writer got quiet. His friend said, “I say “Wow” a lot now, mostly inside. It’s profound appreciation. It’s like gratitude with laughter.”
They left the restaurant. Both of them promised to stay in better touch. And the writer, as he drove home, kept thinking about what his friend said, about looking at things differently to really appreciate more about all there is in this life.
The next day, the writer was cleaning, when he went into the bathroom. He leaned over picked up a roll of toilet paper.
He thought of his friend. And looking back at the toilet paper roll, he smiled to himself and said, “Wow.”
By entrusting us with your feelings, we help you take steps that you see necessary to begin and put forth the energy to make the needed change.
Now notice something: Trust in a coach, mentor, or guide helps you see what's in front of you. We see a Coach for Your Heart a little like an emotional Sherpa, somebody that helps you climb your mountain by pointing out where to best step along the path.
Offices in San Diego and Denver, but will travel to meet onsite anywhere in the United States and the World.