Here I am again, talking to strangers.
I'm on an early-morning train ride to Toronto—a rather bumpy one, I must add—and the woman next to me peers over my shoulder, leers into the laptop and asks me what I’m writing about.
Normally, I would try to deflect this conversation into oblivion (as I did last week in New York), but I feel kinda bad for the woman, because about 20 minutes ago, the Steward (is that what these guys are called on trains?) spilled a full cup of hot coffee into her lap.
So I told her I’m writing for my
blog about Surprise.
She’s incredulous. “You mean like ‘Surprise parties’ and jumping
out of a cake and all that stuff? You
write a blog based on that?”
“Uh, yes, I guess,” I reply.
But what I’m really thinking
is:
“Uh, No. Not in the least.”
Despite its innocent-enough moniker
and Technicolor image, Surprise doesn’t have to be frivolous. In fact, to work—particularly in the business
and personal relationship framework I set it up within—it has to be rather
profound.
The Surprise that truly connects, that
bonds its sender and recipient, is rife with meaning. And perhaps the best definition of meaning
I’ve come across in a long while can be found in a synapse-snapping article
about the merging of video games and art in the current Atlantic Monthly. To wit:
"Meaning is the catalyst that turns action into drama.
Meaning requires words, not just sounds.
It requires characters, not figures.
It requires dramatic shape: a sense that action is leading to some transformation or resolution."
So sorry Ms. Sitting-Next-To-Me; Surprise ain’t just a “Gotcha!” It goes way deeper than a jack-in-the-box.
Or to put it another way, my kind of Surprise is a Pow! Right Between The Eyes.
Yours is a Spilled Coffee Right Between The Legs.
