I’m not what you might call a “high society” kind of person. In fact, I actively avoid gatherings that might include rubbing elbows, schmoozing, or worst of all, hobnobbing.
Years ago, however, I met a woman who would later become a Nobel Peace Prize nominee. I’ll call her Kate. We both attended a weekend retreat and ended up doing dishes together. She was very laid-back and had a quick smile. I don’t recall exactly what we talked about - but when the last cast iron pot was dry, I knew that I liked her.
Kate was also well known for heading off to the bathrooms each evening armed with a toilet brush. But she wasn’t compulsive or a germaphobe. Rather, in group settings, Kate always tackled those humble tasks that most people would rather avoid.
Many years later, I was thrilled to learn of Kate’s Nobel Prize nomination. But my mind kept returning to the image of her beelining to the bathrooms while brandishing that toilet brush. The brush symbolized what I really appreciated about Kate - her authentic humility.
As a fellow “do-gooder,” I’ve noticed how insidiously good intentions can morph into a bloated sense of self-importance. And the quickest antidote I’ve found for that malady is cleaning toilets.
So, in the end, I’m very grateful for that evening of rubbing elbows with Kate over the dishes. I salute her, and her courageous work – with my toilet bowl brush firmly in my grasp.
I’m Anna Evans and that’s my Perspective.
