While getting a haircut the other day, my brother chatted it up with another salon patron. Somewhere in the conversation, they exchanged enough information to spark a flicker of recognition in her memory. A few questions later, she fanned it into flame. This woman was our second cousin.
We (I’m lumping myself together with my brother here) hadn’t seen each other in more than 25 years, probably closer to 30. We were all just kids back then, and as middle-aged adults, our appearance has certainly changed a lot. I find it amazing that this once reasonably familiar fixture from our childhood–we saw each other a couple of times a year–even made the connection.
If I had been in that salon chair instead of my brother, chances are that this happy coincidence never would have taken place. Where my brother frequently reaches out to others, I often keep my nose in my smart phone or a book. Thrilled as I would have been to make the discovery, we wouldn’t have had the chance.
That set my mind racing.
- How many rich experiences have I missed because I have been reluctant to engage? I’m often hesitant to initiate conversation and tend toward observation rather than participation in certain circumstances. What or whom would I have discovered if I had simply said Hi?
- What causes people to lose touch with others who had once been a familiar part of our lives? Lack of interest? Lack of effort? Time and tide? Is this a natural culling or tragic laziness? Who are the people around me I want to keep in my life? And how do I make sure I do it?
- Whose path have I crossed and not known it?
Forget sci-fi. Sometimes it takes a close encounter of the second (cousin) kind to get me out of my little world.