I’ve written before about my habit of talking to strangers, and I really don’t think it’s something I’ll ever grow out of. Just the other day I was at the beachfront taking some photos of the crazy smoke billowing from the fires on Stradbroke Island. It’s just across the water from us, and my heart goes out to the residents who still don’t know if their houses are safe!
As I was standing on the hill looking across, a lady walked towards me with an enormous horse of a dog. She stopped and said she’d just been doing the same thing, and we got talking. We ended up chatting for about half an hour, one of those comfortable conversations that just flow. We laughed about how my two little Daschund crosses, who are almost twice as old as her Ridgeback but less than one tenth of his weight, have so many similar character traits. As we were going on our way, we both said no doubt we’d run into each other again on the walking tracks.
This happens to me regularly, I simply can’t help but chatting to people who look even the slightest bit approachable. I love hearing about the different experiences and points of view that comes with making a new, sometimes only temporary friend. And quite often I find that I learn something that is either valuable or useful to me in some way.
I really do believe that the universe puts people in our path for a reason, and every meeting is loaded with potential.
So actually, I hope I never do grow out of this particular habit.