simple action saturday : open

I passed this office in the hotel-under-glass known as the Gaylord National near Washington, D.C., this week.

I think they're closed.

They were unamused when I asked.

In fact, they looked pretty unamused at everything. Hence, the signs.

Big, bold, closed. Not once, but many times closed. CLOSED. CLOSED. CLOSED. CLOSED. At intervals that precluded engagement. Several people sat behind those signs all day. I kept checking in on them, walking past, wondering if the "CLOSED" ever changed to "OPEN," or–at the very least–"PONDERING OPENING" or "HAVE COME TO THIS PLACE OF CLOSED-NESS BECAUSE WE'VE BEEN HURT IN THE PAST."

No, never. The signs remained constant the whole day. And so did the people behind them, obviously THERE but not.

I started thinking about what it is to be closed. And what it is to be open.

What do we do that is the equivalent of those four signs, just as bold and final and ridiculous, closing off all entry points?

They were there all day, just closed.

How are we like them?

Are we there, but not?

Today, even if just for a small space of time, open. Allow for engagement, entertain questions, do business with people who need what you can offer, open. Be fully there.