I saw her through the coffeeshop window around 6:30am.
It was a sunless morning filled with mist, sidewalk layered in wet leaves. My body was tired, my mind was stuck on yesterday’s leftover thoughts.
I thought about going in to say hello. I only knew her a little, and the little I knew was lovely. Why bother? I shrugged sore shoulders. Easier not to.
So I walked another block. And somewhere in that block, the sensible part of me snapped to. Get back to that coffee shop and say good morning; it’s one minute for a shot of human connection.
I turned around, walked the block back, opened the coffee shop door. Hello! I called to her. She smiled over at me. I learned she’d just gotten into grad school. We talked about my upcoming trip, how nutty it is that planes can just hang out up in the clouds.
We wished each other good days. I walked out, leftover thoughts interrupted, tired body less demanding of my attention. And that’s the thing about human connection – it has a way of lifting us out of ourselves and into the world.
The morning hadn’t shifted; it was still sunless and filled with mist. But I had been shifted. Not a lot. Just enough to see that if the chance for connection arises, it’s often worth taking. Even if that means walking back a block for it.