Service: A Few Observations
I just returned from a road trip in the US Southwest with some close friends. We were there to immerse ourselves in the region's haunting landscapes while celebrating the end of bachelorhood for one of the folks in our party. According to our car rental receipt, we logged over 2,000 km of travel. Being on the road that much, you notice a lot about the hospitality industry, nourishment only available through diners, cafés, or truck stops.
What makes for good service in the hospitality industry? Obviously, great food can cover a multitude of service sins. In one café in California, I was prompted towards a tip at an order and pick-up counter. I baulked at the suggestion. Why must one tip for no service? And yet, the avocado and egg sandwich was so delicious I immediately forgave the establishment for its pompous West Coast presumptions and felt guilty for not leaving a little extra.
At a buffet in Death Valley, the spread was so grotesque that I was forced to make a meal out of nachos and cheese, the quality of which made cinema snacks look like gourmet dining. And yet, the server was so kind and attentive that I still left a tip, despite being acutely aware that my stomach was about to enter a digestive civil war. Great service can also offset certain culinary sins.
This, of course, brings us to the fifth theme of our summer journey together, service. Granted, in the hospitality industry, service is performed for tips, so great service doesn't exactly come to us with pure intentions. Even still, I think there is something to be learned about the nature of service from the people who make their living by it. And so, as we look to the fall and try to set intentions for a new season in front of us, what does it mean to give ourselves to service? Here are a few observations from the hospitality industry as I consider the fall and how I can give myself to service this coming season.
Space
If there is a recipe for poor service, it is a busy, understaffed restaurant. You find yourself waiting 30 minutes just to make your order, and by the time your mouth is on fire from the spicy habanero chicken burger, your water glass is empty. If a server oversees 30 tables, none of them will be served well. In the best of restaurants, servers have fewer tables to manage because exceptional service requires time and space.
This is why, for me, setting intentions, expectations, and priorities for the fall is so important. Quite simply, if we are too busy or pulled in too many directions, we can't give ourselves to service. Sure, we might be able to squeeze in "one-off" acts of service or projects, but our calendars won't allow us to live into service as a way of life.
Over the past week of travel, I had the opportunity to reflect on how I fill my days. During conversations with my travel mates, I was challenged to look at my calendar as a moral statement. I am still wrestling through this: calendars as moral documents? The idea is that how we fill our calendars reflects what we see as good and right. Most of the time, I fill my calendar with personal duties, demands, and pleasures. In doing so, I deem those things as good. But what if I worked in the opposite direction? What if I started by identifying what is good and right and filling my calendar based on those moral guidelines?
This brings me back to the rule of life I am working on (see an earlier post). Family time and programs for the kids are good, but are they the only thing that is good? If I am not careful, my calendar can fill very quickly with the duties and demands of family. I could spend all my time waiting on that table, so to speak, while the tables of the community and neighbourhood wait for service. It can work the other way around as well. Church, community, friends, work, family, hobbies—each of them can fill our calendars if we let them.
This fall, I want to be intentional about how I approach my calendar. I want to create space, not for "one-off" service projects, but for a way of life that allows me to serve others daily. To do that, I need to identify what is good and start from there. I need to ensure I am not too busy or pulled in too many directions. To give myself to service requires making space for it. If I am not intentional about that, my calendar will dictate where my time and energy are spent.
Goat on Cow Service
The second thing I noticed about the hospitality industry is that great service seems to follow the "goat on cow" paradigm. Great servers see (notice), delight in, and give to those they are entrusted with serving. As I mentioned above, this can only be enacted when servers have time and space.
See (Notice). A good dining experience means being noticed by your server regularly without it feeling like your server is a helicopter parent. It is all in the small moments: the server arriving after you have had a minute or two with the menu, the extra napkins arriving after your sticky-chicken-wing-fingers have spoiled the first five you were given, your glass topped up with water at the perfect time. A good server sees and notices your needs and responds.
We often relegate service to specific projects or volunteerism, but service as a way of life is more intentional and attentive. During the week of my book launch, I felt overwhelmed by all the tasks I needed to complete. The event also happened to coincide with the end of our Nexus season, Kristen finishing up her teaching duties, and the kids finishing school themselves. That week felt like a whirlwind of stress and anxiety. To casual acquaintances, our stress was probably unnoticeable. But one couple could see (notice). On the day before the book launch, they ordered food for us so we wouldn't have to worry about taking care of dinner. Another friend showed up 5 hours earlier than expected the following day to help take care of last-minute details. Those acts of service to me and my family meant the world to us, saved us a lot of stress, and reminded us that we were truly seen. I want to make space in my life so I can offer the same kind of service to others.
Delight. The best servers don't just take your order, they seem to genuinely enjoy time with you. Feigned or authentic (I get servers are working for tips), the best servers are often playful and funny. They ask good questions (beyond what I want to eat or drink) and seem genuinely interested in my itinerary and interests.
I am inclined to think the same is true when living towards service as a way of life. Serving as a way of life means moving beyond meeting needs to genuinely being interested in the person, or people, we are serving. Granted, that is easier said than done. People, in my experience, aren't always, or even often, delightful. Service, as a way of life, though, at some point, requires the act to move from duty to delight. That requires curiosity and patience. It takes work and regular practice. We need to build our service muscles, so to speak. To start, we might begin by moving towards those who mildly annoy us at work, church, in our families, or in our neighbourhoods.
Give. While in Death Valley National Park, my friends and I inquired of every server who would listen, "where is the best place in Death Valley to do some night sky viewing?" We wanted to find the perfect spot to take in the stars. Most folk would reply with, "Anywhere in the park is great." And they aren't wrong. Death Valley is a gold-tier night sky preserve. It is impossible not to see a spectacular sky while visiting there. But one server truly gave us his wisdom and experience. Map in hand, he outlined several options around the park to find truly spectacular night skies. We ended up being richer for him giving us his wisdom and experience.
Service as a way of life asks the same of us. It asks us to give of ourselves. It asks us to move beyond meeting immediate needs to find delight while truly giving of ourselves. Sometimes, that is just giving people the dignity of our undivided attention. Sometimes, it is spending the energy to find good questions. Sometimes, it may mean opening our wallets or sharing our hard-fought wisdom. Service, as a way of life, means carving out the space and time in our calendars to be able to give of ourselves. And again, not to beat a dead horse, but that WILL NOT HAPPEN if we aren't intentional about the coming year and season ahead of us.
So, as you approach this fall and the coming season, I hope you will join me in carefully considering where we want to spend ourselves this year. What is good and right? How might that shape our calendars? Do we have the space for service? How can we make ourselves available to see (notice), delight in, and give ourselves in service? Below are some further questions we hope will help you as you consider service as a way of life.
Giving Myself to Service
1. What makes me glad?
2. When have I noticed joy or gladness when serving?
3. What needs do I notice around me? Is there something they have in common?
4. What could I do to meet the needs I notice? Have I already started in some small way? Are there others I can join?