The Woman Who Found Peace In Her Shift
For those times the only way out is in.
These flies didn’t hunt for food.
Too easy. Where’s the sport in that?
They hunted for something better. Feelings.
And lucky for them, that day, they found some.
“Target?” one called out.
“Table by the road. Two o’clock.”
A pause.
“Those are monks.”
“I know.”
“Those are MONKS.”
“I know. Let’s go.”
At that long table sat a trio of monks.
They were tired, hungry, and very far from enlightenment at the moment.
“Let’s see what they’ve got.”
One fly dropped low. A quick landing, barely a graze.
The monk responded with the usual: a sharp inhale, a head jerk, a ‘reflex’ hand swipe.
The gang lit up.
“Oh this is good.”
A flinch.
A swat.
A yelp!
Word spread.
Three, five, ten flies show up.
A blur of wings!
On faces, on skin,
gone?
Nope, not really.
These flies did quick stints.
In and out.
They were born for this.
“This is disgusting! Why would they bring us here?” said the monks, irritated.
“GO GO GO. Push it.” They circled faster and tighter, like a storm that was very pleased with itself.
And as predicted, chairs scraped. Hands swatted harder.
“I didn’t come all this way for this.” one said, standing up with calm intention.
“Some things just aren’t worth your energy,” said another. They filed out, unhurried, dignified. The flies hovered above the empty chairs.
“Who, uuuus?” one spit out while cackling as the rest burst into laughter.
“We barely even DID anything!” one wheezed.
Watching them, smiling, was the woman at the register. She looked up from her phone for exactly one moment, then went back to scrolling. It was their world, she just worked in it.
It was a remote resort near the foothills of a Balinese volcano, after all.
Mango season plus fertile soil equals flies thick in the air.
They had an entire ecosystem to attend to.
The monks were a detour. The woman was on the clock.
A fly landed near the waitress’ hand.
She paid no mind to it, and it flew away.
The monks watched from behind the glass wall they’d retreated to. The air-conditioned side, the side you could choose.
They watched this woman, who seemed to have no “how gross.” No “why me.” No story about what it meant or who was to blame. Just a woman, there. No performance of patience. No visible effort at all.
Occasionally she would swat.
But it was just a swat.
And then she went back to doing what she was doing.
She glanced up. Caught them there, three monks pressed against the glass, watching her from the comfortable side of the wall they’d chosen to stand behind. Free to leave. Free to return. Free, in every way that costs money.
Her shift was not yet over.
She pocketed her phone, picked up a rag, and started wiping down the counter.
The flies followed her down the length of it.
She didn’t transcend the discomfort. She didn’t rise above it. She just had nowhere else to go, so she went somewhere smaller: her hands, the counter, her breath.
The monks watched her from the other side of the window.
One of them opened the door and came back in.
He sat down near her. Said nothing. Just sat.
The flies immediately returned to claim their mark.
“In position!”
They circled, landed. Waited for the story to begin.
No flinch. No swat. No story. No reaction.
They waited.
Until one yawned, and the others caught it.
“This place blows.”
And just like that, they were gone. Onto the next opening
.
Bringing the Reframe to Your Team
Most teams right now are stuck in a frame that change is hard and they’re already behind. My job is to show you that’s a frame problem, not a team problem.
The 9-Minute Reframe is a 90-minute experience that turns a room full of people playing it safe into a team that thinks boldly together. By the end, they have a tool they can use anytime they want to move faster than the moment.