I am winded today. No, not long winded, that’s every day. I’m out of breath because I walked up the stairs to my office. I work on the fourth floor, which may not sound like much to you, but I work in a building which has magic stairs. Doubt me, do you? I can prove it to you. I just walked up four flights, but the stairs from floor two to three was twice as long as the stairs from floor one to two. In fact, the stairs from three to four were at least ten times a long as from two to three. SEE THAT, hard evidence!

I love elevators, for so many reasons. They come when you call. They take you where you want to go. They provide time for interesting conversations that have even been named for their style, “elevator pitches.” Heck, I have had dogs for years that were less responsive to my call than elevators which I had only met that very first time by pushing their button to tell them that I was waiting and expected them to do something about it. Ah, the obedience and utility of the common elevator, how I love thee.

I also love having mentors, and in fact have a huge group of people that I consider my mentors. My mentors cause me to think or consider acting in a way that may be against the lazier inclinations of my nature. This blog is actually about two of them. They, who like so many others in my life, may not even know I consider them mentors. One of the two is my manager, and the other is a manager who works for me. Both are about my age, both have children about the age of my daughter, and both find time every day to work out. One is even a yoga instructor. Truly, I can’t fathom it. Do they have a magic timepiece that extends their days like the magic stairs that extend my climb? (Just a theory, I have no proof yet.) In part they are my mentors because they show me things I want to change about myself which may be possible, and because neither of them seems to want to force me to make those changes. In fact, they do little more than (intentionally or unintentionally) lead by their example. I find myself wanting to spend time with them for just that reason.

My manager and I arrived at my building yesterday, each heading for the fourth floor. I called for my trusty friend the elevator (who of course came as always), and we started to step in. My manager then said, really more to him than me, “I hate elevators.” I was aghast, how can one disparage the value of such a loyalty. But hate them he does, in favor of stairs, which he pointed out were just a few feet away from the elevator (hey, I wondered what that door was). I asked him if he wanted to take the stairs (please say “no” – please say “no”) “No,” he said (yeah!!), but he looked somewhat disappointed at himself. It was a look that I found oddly disturbing, and one that made me think why I wasn’t disappointed in myself.

Later that afternoon I was waiting for the elevator with the manager on my team (aka the yoga instructor). The doors opened but before I got in I said, “We could take the stairs.” With her arms full of laptop, unwieldy papers, and the other things that fill our arms and make us unstable as we roam about, she paused, looked into my face and said, “Sure, let’s do that.” And so through the odd little door near the elevators I went for the first time. You know, it’s kind of nice in there. They have windows and everything.

So here I sit in my office. My breath long since caught, penning this ode to my long lost friend the elevator, whom I will still probably see on occasion. In taking the time to catch my breath I also found a few minutes to think fondly of two of my mentors who inspired me to do this little bit of exercise and maybe live just a little bit longer to be part of the lives of my family and friends. I wonder if they know how much I appreciate it? Maybe I’ll tell them during our next “stairway pitch.”