I spent the entire last week in Cuba. Stories to tell.
I enjoyed many things – but none more, perhaps, than the spirit of the Cuban people I encountered.
The docent at the Ambos Mundos Hotel in Havana Vieja whose comments illumined the artifacts in Hemingway’s room at the hotel.
The old female singer at the Hotel Nacional who performed with members of The Buena Vista Social Club, her passion palpable and yet instantly ironic as she wiggled and writhed in her slinky black dress.
Grencia, our tour guide, who breezily sailed through the more troubling parts of Cuban history in her narrative.
David, the owner and chef of the Davimart paladar, as he greeted us in his exquisite restaurant-home in Trinidad.
They all had it.
They were on stage, in one way or another. Every one of them. And they all performed their public roles with a twinkle in the eye.
Here is how I read the twinkle:
I won’t take myself too seriously.
I’m in on the joke.
I have said this a hundred times before – but heck, let me have some fun with it.
I will enjoy this moment, no matter what else may be going on inside of me, my home, the world.
That’s the beauty of the twinkle. The let-me-have-some-wicked-fun-with-this part.
I think of all the moments in our business life, day in and day out, when we are on stage. When we get to choose how we perform our public role.
Each situation is different, of course.
But why not try it Cuban-style, once in a while? Yes, with a twinkle in the eye.
The twinkle twinklifies a moment. It joy-infuses it. It uplifts it. Takes it into the light.
Even the least-twinkly person is more likely to twinkle back.
Twinkle-energy is that simple.
Twinkle-energy is that infectious.
And infectious feels pretty darn good.
Cuba reminded me.
This week, as you find yourself the center of attention, choose to be a twinklifier. Decide to twinkle a little more than you normally would.
Your rewards will be instant.