The Contagious Inspiration of Ordinary Life

At this Lunch with Janita & Frank, inspiration did not arrive quietly.

It arrived coughing.

Frank, also known as “the Mayor,” opened the meeting by offering everyone his “genuine, high-quality, made-in-Germany cough” as a Christmas present. One careful owner, three months of warranty, no refunds. The group politely – and loudly – refused.

Janita (Fruitloop) wanted to talk about inspiration. Frank wanted to raffle off his lungs. A typical Thursday.

A cough, a joke… and a metaphor

Between the laughter and mock horror (“We want chocolates for Christmas, not coughing!”), something subtle happened.

Janita tried to redirect: this cough is not inspiring.

But then Fruitloop did what this group always does – they turned the ridiculous into a reflection. If a cough can be that persistent, they said, maybe it can remind us of something:

• It wakes you up.
• It doesn’t go away.
• It keeps showing up, day after day, no matter how inconvenient.

In other words, it behaves like… discipline.

So, against its will, Frank’s stubborn, dry, humour-infused cough was promoted to unlikely metaphor: a slightly painful reminder that consistent effort – even when it irritates you – is often what produces something meaningful in the long run.

(Frank, however, is still not allowed to gift it to anyone.)

Bruce and the quiet art of taking things seriously

When the topic finally wrestled itself away from respiratory drama, Janita began with Bruce:

Who inspired you when you were young? And what moment still stays with you?

Bruce split his answer into two kinds of inspiration:

1. The distant heroes you never meet.
2. The real people who sit in front of you and listen.

Distant heroes included cricketer Denis Compton and racing driver Stirling Moss – early models of excellence and risk, one of whom may have contributed to Bruce’s youthful tendency to drive far too fast.

But the real weight fell on a mentor from his younger years. Someone who did something deceptively simple:

• sat with him while others went out to play
• listened seriously to what he thought about the world
• encouraged him, implicitly and explicitly, to think

That encouragement seems to have left a permanent mark. Bruce still cares deeply about how the world works (or doesn’t), from AI to politics. The habit of “serious conversations about real things” became a quiet engine that never quite switched off.

Later, he reflected on another kind of motivator: the negative ones. Unhelpful teachers. Failing exams. Feeling dismissed. The kinds of experiences that plant a stubborn seed: I’ll show you.

Not glamorous. But powerful.

Nathalie and the elegance of ordinary people

Nathalie approached inspiration differently. She couldn’t pick a single person, she said.

For her, inspiration is scattered around everyday life like small lights:

• a neighbour
• a colleague
• a boss
• a family member

No stadiums. No red carpets. Just ordinary people doing things well.

She mentioned Coco Chanel as an example from history: a woman ahead of her time, who ignored criticism, designed differently, and walked right through social expectations in trousers. Courage wrapped in fashion.

But Nathalie kept circling back to something quieter: it’s easier to be inspired by someone you can imagine being. Distant celebrities often stay dream-like and unreachable. Ordinary lives, however, are close enough to feel like instructions rather than fairy tales.

Frank in the lobby at 2am: calm under pressure

Janita then turned the spotlight on Frank:

Tell me about a time someone stayed calm in a difficult situation – and how that inspired you.

Frank did what many people secretly do under such questions: he stalled. Then he told the truth sideways – by talking about work.

Before “the Mayor” became the face of Lunch, he lived in hotels. Not as a guest, but as staff: reception, night manager, front line. The places where humans arrive with luggage, expectations, and occasionally too much alcohol.

He described:

• fights breaking out at events
• VIP guests convinced the rules don’t apply to them
• angry customers threatening, insulting, pushing for exceptions

One night, during a chaotic boxing event at the Gatwick Hilton, a guest involved in the trouble demanded a room. The hotel was almost full, but not quite. Technically, Frank could have said yes. He didn’t.

He held the line, refused calmly, endured the pressure, and called security when needed.

On another night in Germany, a hotel full of boy-band fans created chaos at the doors and phones. A mother insisted her daughter should be allowed to stay at the hotel. Frank refused again, even adding a probably-not-HR-approved comment about what he would do as a parent. He hung up.

When he put the phone down, the reception team applauded. Not because he was rude, but because he protected the boundary they all depended on.

Did he know if that inspired anyone? No.
Did it quietly teach something about courage and leadership in everyday life? Almost certainly.

His conclusion was simple:
We do a lot of things in our normal, messy days that may inspire someone else – and we will probably never find out.

Rosie: discipline in ballet shoes and patience at the travel desk

Rosie’s answer brought things right into the heart of family.

First, she spoke about her niece – now a ballet teacher and influencer – who has been dancing since she was three or four. What impressed Rosie wasn’t the performance on stage. It was the routine behind it:

• training six hours a day
• travelling to competitions in other cities
• winning awards
• working and studying at university, then training again
• planning her day down to “I will clean my house in two hours” and actually doing it

Her niece believes in herself, but not in a magical “it will happen” way. More in the “I will work for it” kind of way. Discipline as a lifestyle, not a mood.

Then Rosie spoke about her sister, who worked with her in a travel agency on a busy street.

Rosie remembered one scene clearly:
A client arrived furious, voice raised, problems with his ticket and trip. Her sister stayed calm, spoke softly, explained things, stayed kind. The man eventually became embarrassed and apologised.

Where many of us would have matched the volume, she lowered it. Patience as quiet power.

And then, as if inspiration had built its own family tree, Rosie added another story about a friend who grew up selling linens and towels from a car with her father. Oldest of ten children, she worked hard from a young age and is now a businesswoman running a recruitment company, giving jobs to others.

From ballet practice to street-selling towels to running a company – the common thread: discipline, determination, and starting where you are.

Lady Gaga, rude comments, and “I’ll show you”

Janita added a modern fairy tale into the mix: Lady Gaga before Lady Gaga was Lady Gaga.

Back when she was still writing songs for others, her boyfriend told her, “You will never make it.”

When he left, she answered with one line:

“You won’t be able to go anywhere without seeing my face.”

And then she did exactly that.

For the group, this story connected with Bruce’s earlier point: sometimes it’s not the encouraging voices that push us forward, but the dismissive ones. An unfair teacher. A cynical comment. Someone saying, “You? No.”

Not pleasant. Not kind. But occasionally very effective fuel.

Recording the lives we think are “nothing special”

Somewhere in the middle of all this, Frank steered the conversation briefly towards Ralph, the Grillmeister – another beloved figure in the Lunch universe.

Every Monday at 8:00, Frank talks to Ralf. They record their conversations. Out of these come stories: about Ralf’s years in the German military, the loyalty and camaraderie learned there, his father’s standards, his apprenticeship with a master who refused bad quality.

Ralph thinks his life is “nothing special.” Frank strongly disagrees.

Bruce added that one of the big possibilities of our time is this:
We can record the life lessons of almost everyone – not just the famous few.

The challenge is getting people to recognise that their “normal” is someone else’s amazement.

The Fruitloop Questions: trading cards, colours and growth in a box

No Lunch is complete without Janita’s “Fruitloop questions” – those slightly absurd prompts that somehow sneak deep ideas past our defences.

This time, everyone got a personalised one.

Bruce: The inspiration trading card

If inspiring people came with trading cards, whose card would you collect first to give you a motivation boost?

Bruce’s first answer was practical:
“I’d collect someone with energy.”

Frank immediately nominated Janita: Fruitloop, legendary for bringing laughter and momentum to the group… even if her batteries also need recharging from time to time.

Nathalie: Superhero colours (but not that one)

If your favourite inspiring person had a superhero costume, what colour would it not be, and why?

Nathalie thought about it, then chose red.

Red, she said, simply doesn’t attract her. Even if it’s on a hero, she’d feel less inspired. For her, some colours block connection rather than deepen it.

Superman may be fine. But in her personal universe, inspiration comes in different shades.

Rosie: Growth in a box

If growth came in a box, what would the label say, and who would you sell it to?

Once the “box of growth” metaphor clicked, Rosie filled the label quickly:

• Discipline
• Determination
• Believe in yourself
• You can do it

It sounded a little bit like a Nike ad written by someone who really cares.

Who would receive this box? Her niece, again.

Although, as Rosie admitted with a smile, it may be the other way around – her niece often seems to be the one giving that box back to her, with advice and encouragement flowing from younger to older.

Frank: Inspiration as a drink

If inspiration was a drink, who serves the strongest cup, and what is the secret ingredient?

Frank went straight to wine.

He remembered celebrating his 50th birthday in a two-Michelin-star restaurant in Baden-Baden, facing a wine list the size of a small encyclopedia. Overwhelmed, he handed the decision to the sommelier.

The sommelier chose perfectly: not the cheapest, not the most expensive, just right for the moment, the food, the people.

So for Frank:

• the drink is wine
• the secret ingredient is the grape
• the person who serves the strongest cup is the one who understands both wine and people

In other words, inspiration is less about the bottle and more about the wisdom of the person pouring.

If inspiration were contagious…

To wrap things up, Janita asked a question that brought us back to the beginning:

If inspiration were contagious like a sneeze, who would start an inspirational pandemic – and what would the symptoms be?

Her own answer pointed not to presidents or billionaires, but to:

• a person who smiles at a cashier
• someone who shares a joke
• a man in a grill apron imagining cartoon hedgehogs in his baseball cap
• a retired soldier who tells stories kindly
• a niece who practises ballet
• a sister who speaks softly to angry customers

In short: ordinary people. The ones we sit next to on buses, stand behind in queues, and forget to really see.

Those people, if they start “sneezing” inspiration, could spread something far more helpful than a cough:

• sudden bursts of courage
• a quiet urge to try again
• irrational hope
• a new habit begun on a Tuesday for no dramatic reason at all

And unlike Frank’s current infection, this is one everyone was happy to catch.

A year-long “pandemic” of topics

Before they signed off, Frank and Janita revealed their own planned outbreak: a full year of monthly topics for the Brida community.

Each month next year will carry a theme – starting with presence in January – with sub-topics to choose from. Not rigid lessons, but invitations to talk, reflect, and write.

Everyone can pick the angles that resonate. If several people choose the same topic, even better: more voices, more stories, more versions of “ordinary.”

The last word (almost)

The meeting ended, as it often does, with thanks, laughter, and a vague agreement to “see you next week if you’re not tired of us yet.”

In between the jokes about cough lotteries, hedgehogs on vespa’s, and Scottish lunch being at 09:30, something gentle settled in the middle of the table:

Inspiration is not a spotlight reserved for the famous.
It is not a poster on a teenager’s wall or a quote on a mug.

Most of the time, inspiration looks like:

• a mentor who listens seriously
• a niece who keeps practising
• a sister who stays calm
• a friend who worked her way from a car full of towels to her own company
• a group of people from different countries searching together for the right English word

And maybe, just maybe, it also looks like a persistent German cough that refuses to give up.

Not because it is pleasant.
But because it reminds us that sometimes, the most inspiring thing of all is the decision to keep showing up – breathless, imperfect, laughing – around a shared table.