The Origin of KindLoook

I’m sitting in a bustling café where Rosalyn, the owner, has built a little community. It’s a favourite place. People come and meet and share stories. There is a warmth here. I’m writing, I’m listening to some music, with the occasional glance at the lives moving around me.

A young family at the table in front draws me in. I see a young couple out with their children. The young girl I’d estimate is about eight years old, her younger brother maybe five or six. I see joy, they are enjoying treats with Mum and Dad and there is happy chatter, energy, smiles and fun. Observing is fine, staring is not cool. I’ve had my fill and I look away and drift again…

I remember back to when our boys were that age and I smile. Carefree days of childish freedom before the deluge of the world’s influences come to claw and scratch at that innocence of thought, for them, and for us at times.

CLANG! Brrring! Ding, ding, ding, din…

The fork falls from the full hands of the bustling waitress just to the right of this family’s table. The fork, the waitress have my full attention. My two second trance is invaded. In an instant, like Usain Bolt bursting out of the blocks, the young girl from the family, springs out of her chair, bends down and picks up the fork to help the waitress.

I freeze. Everything freezes.

I look.

I feel surprise. I feel joy. Even though I wasn’t speaking, I’m speechless.

I felt like I was like looking at a photograph of human possibility. A still life shot. You know, one of those prints that is staged, with an inspiring quote…

I felt like a spectator in some kind of world championship of kindness, and here was one of the finalists.

A couple of those ‘hour long seconds’ pass and after some thanks from the waitress, the moment is gone.

Or that’s the way it could have gone.

I looked. I looked a little longer.

There was no way I was going to be able to return to whatever I was doing now. I sit, processing, taking in what I just saw. Suddenly I feel a little silly. “It’s just a girl who picked up a fork, it’s no big deal.”

But a joy, a prompt, seems to be growing. I feel open to possibility and just kinda pumped really. Whatever I’m feeling, I’d be cool with more of it.

Then I feel something else. It starts as a flicker, now a flame, and into a bonfire.

“Say something to her… Get up, tell her how kind she was.”

And like a fire hose in the face, an answer.

“Dude, you can’t do that, that’s just going to be weird. You’re weird. She’ll think it’s weird and her parents will think you’re a nutcase.”

“Do it man! How amazing would it be for her to know not only was she kind but someone saw it and appreciated it.”

“Oh come on, you’ll look like a goose, they don’t know you…

PEOPLE DON’T DO THIS KIND OF THING!”

The last comment hits hard. It is the most helpful because instead of sealing the fate of not doing it, it did precisely the opposite. I want to do it because we don’t do it and we should. Still I feel this reluctant lead weight pinning me to my seat. After a few more very strong heartbeats, I stand.

I walk up to the young girl and as I do, I am extremely careful to meet the gaze of her parents as I approach and give them as calm a smile as I can.

My heart is still beating hard, I’m still feeling a bit awkward.

When I am close enough I offer “You know, I saw what you did just then to help that waitress and it really impacted me. I wanted you to know that it was really kind and if we all did this more in the world, it would be a better place. Thank you.”

My beating heart and pumping adrenalin has me feeling like I am standing in front of a class in high school about to give a speech. What’s with that!

I wait.

She looks a little confused initially. Can’t blame her. She doesn’t know me and people don’t do this kind of thing right? Then a sparkle of a smile appears on her face, it grew into a happy smile. I look at both her parents and smile. They are already smiling, beaming in fact.

No more words are really necessary but I simply said.

“I’m guessing this is your daughter. That was so kind of her. I hope you didn’t mind me pointing it out.”

The fulfilment in their faces is palpable. I see a calm, acknowledging appreciation that I did act. A pride in who their daughter is.

I float back to my seat and sit down.

One thing sits resolute still in my mind.

PEOPLE DON’T DO THIS KIND OF THING…

Yes they do.

That special young girl just did. I did.

Look what it did.

This story, this ‘only happens in the movies’ moment doesn’t only happen in the movies, And I had the gift, the chance to be part of the script.

What if I’d done nothing.

I’m thinking again. A massive zoom out. Yes, this is life inside my head. Surely, across the whole planet right now, there is another young girl, a young boy, an adult, a teacher, a team member, a leader picking up a fork for someone.

This isn’t stuff that just happens in the movies, we just don’t make enough movies about it. We just don’t tell enough stories about it.

We could do this better.

We find the evidence we look for.

When we look, just a little longer with kindness, I wonder what we’ll see.

Is there more evidence of kindness out there across our global village that we’re just not seeing?

The story now had a life of its own… I felt accountable. What happened next is how Kindloook.com was born.