By Caroline Noland
You feel frustrated and want him to stop. To discontinue. To only be moderately excited. And you realize it is probably because you're a little jealous of him. You're jealous of his joy.
Larry is a greeter at Home Depot and is in love with his job. He sits in his wheelchair for four hours at a time by the door with the cold wind blowing in. He is often ignored as he tells folks walking in, "Welcome to Home Depot!" Despite being looked over by customers, despite the blustering wind, despite the repetition, he couldn't be happier.
His legs bounce with anticipation and he blushes with enthusiasm. He feels and knows his work is valuable and important. He feels great about himself and is overwhelmingly proud of his position. His work is like play for him. He is able to not only find, but continually find the deep joy in the things he does each day.
Some days I want to tell him to take it more seriously. To ocus a bit more and calm down. And some days he might need to take the energy down or giggle a little less or not tell every customer just how "cute" they are. But perhaps mostly, the joy and life in him is so rare that I 'm not sure what to do with it except be in awe.
Finding meaning in your work has very little to do with the things you produce or the meetings you hold or even your effectiveness at welcoming folks in a hurry. Finding meaning in a job is not restricted to only those jobs whose descriptions sound like heroic feats. Larry reminds me that finding meaning and subsequently discovering joy spurs from an inward knowledge of one's belovedness and the simple desire to welcome in those around us. Welcome them in.