Hello, February-
Welcome to the winter doldrums—a season for rest and reflection. Over the past month, a new administration has taken office, stirring significant division across the country. This has led me to reflect on the power of small - yet meaningful - interactions with people who are different from us. I’d like to share a brief story that speaks to that importance...
Last month, during a warm snap, I walked home from my favorite coffee shop, a little less than a mile away. As I turned the corner, I noticed someone else turning the opposite corner at the exact same moment. Our movements mirrored each other so perfectly that we exchanged an awkward smile before continuing on our way. For the next five minutes, we walked parallel to each other in the same direction. Eventually, I made an intentional decision to pursue connection.
The person walking across from me was visibly different from me– gender, race, and age immediately stood out. These differences, on the surface, could easily create barriers, keeping connection at arm’s length. But why is that? The fear of difference is an illusion. If we’re honest, much of that fear stems from our own insecurities—fear of rejection, being misunderstood, or judged. As humans, we naturally gravitate toward those who are like us—who look, think, speak, and believe as we do—because it’s comfortable. Familiarity requires less effort; we don’t have to ask deep questions, challenge our thinking, or reflect on who we are. It feels safer, somehow. But in choosing comfort, we miss the richness that complexity brings to our humanness.
So, I decided to break the ice…“Hey, how much longer are you walking in this direction? Because in another block, it’s going to feel really awkward to keep on like this.”
He burst out laughing and matched my bid for connection, when he could have just blown me off. “I've got another 10 blocks—wanna join me over here?” And just like that, we were walking together, not just across from one another.
In the span of 15 minutes, we shared pieces of our lives—his experience as a 20-year-old parent, funny stories about dog sitting for his mom, and everything in between. When it was time for him to turn left, he looked me in the eye with a genuine smile and said, “Hey, thanks for that.”
I walked away with a warmth inside, that lingered long after. It struck me how simple it was—one split second choice, one moment of courage to step outside my comfort zone. That brief encounter reminded me of a profound truth: connection doesn’t erase differences, but it bridges them. In a world that often feels divided, the act of reaching out—of walking together instead of apart—might just be the quiet power that brings us closer.
Wishing you a month of small, but meaningful interactions ahead.
Lucy
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