Earlier this week I had a last minute trip added to my schedule.

Yup - that's the Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

To join an all-day meeting in San Francisco, I had to take an early morning flight.

We'd just gotten back from a trip so I prioritized laundry, got my bag (mostly) packed the night before, scheduled a Lyft for 4:55am, set my alarm for even earlier, and tried to get to bed early.

For whatever reason, my alarm didn't sound.

The bell announcing my Lyft driver was on the way is what woke me up.

Thank goodness I was mostly packed - no chance for second guessing. I darted out the door as I got the notification the driver had arrived, thinking somewhere in my sleepy subconscious that at least I had 15 minutes on the drive to the airport to wake up a bit. I was not intending on conversation.

Sometimes the world has other plans for us.

By the time we arrived at the airport, we were talking about the raising of daughters, the individual nature of grief, and the ways joy and support can seep in when it is needed most - the weight of loss and recovery need not rest solely on one individual.

We rarely get to see or feel the impact of our spontaneous connections, but this one snapped me into full presence. Perhaps the father-daughter bond - the father's pride - reminded me of my own father. Perhaps it was the recent loss of his wife to cancer that reminded me of loss in my family. Perhaps, but neither of those were conscious.

A simple and pure human connection kept us talking even after we'd arrived at the airport terminal curb - just an extra minute - and then I was off to my gate and he was picking up his next fare.

I had thought that where my presence and focus would be most needed that day was at the San Francisco meeting. I'd rearranged my whole day to be there. But, this stranger who I will probably never meet again needed something from me as well during that 5am ride. Giving that presence did not distract from what I brought to the day but made it even more rich.

What unexpected connections and interactions have lingered with you?

How will you show up today?

Wishing you pure and simple human connection, and the joy that comes with being present,

Mary