When a Stranger Becomes Your Saving Grace
As I move through the world as a single person, often traveling alone, I am noticing more and more that no one is truly a stranger. Each day of this life it becomes more and more evident to me that we are all deeply connected. Take my recent experience in La Guardia Airport, for example. A massive, sprawling, buzzing, international hub of families, businesspeople, and friends just trying to get from one place to another.
Somehow the length of the train and bus trip there had left me with little time to check my bag and get through security in time to board my flight. 25 minutes, to be exact. The Southwest line wrapped completely around the huge kiosks. Sweating (and breathing) through the uncertainty, I took my place in line, hopeful and praying my weird little heart out.
I felt alone, but the woman behind me quickly reminded me I wasn’t. Laughing at how long the Southwest line was and wondering aloud if she was even in the right line, I responded in kind and immediately felt connected. Then I realized I could initiate connections with others in line to find out if there was any way I could get my bag checked faster since I had such a short time till boarding. Communication was key. The written word has always come easily to me, but I will say, the spoken word is another beast altogether. I am still learning how to use my voice fully and how important that is - in business and in life.
“A voice is a gift; it should be cherished and used, to fully utter human speech if possible.” -Margaret Atwood
I asked the woman in front of me if she thought my bag would even make it on my flight considering my boarding time, and she quickly transformed into my angelic advocate. She flagged down an airport rep first who told us they would likely have to put me on a later flight. Unacceptable to her, she then found a Southwest rep and asked her to help us both (since her flight was boarding only 20 minutes after mine). The rep, in turn, was extremely helpful and guided us to the priority line.
This woman in line, who had been a stranger only 5 minutes before, became my saving grace. I found out her name was Jaime, and we swapped life stories in the 25 minutes it took us to wind through the security line. I kept one eye on my digital boarding pass, which thankfully kept showing my boarding time getting delayed in 5-minute increments. And I trusted. If I had been guided this far, I knew I could glide all the way on this grace.
The TSA guard was less confident. When he overheard Jaime and I talking, he asked my gate number, then made a doubtful face when I told him. “Your flight boards in 5 minutes? You’ve got a long way to go,” he said, shaking his head. Undeterred, I quickly slid my shoes back on and grabbed my bag. I gave Jaime a big hug and thanked her for being my savior. A native New Yorker, she proceeded to shout out directions the whole way to my gate as I ran away waving and thanking her aloud.
I am relieved to say that after a good sprint (around all the landmarks Jaime had accurately called out), I made my flight and am typing this post thousands of miles high in the air, somewhere between NYC and Dallas. Grateful for the way I learned to imitate my brother’s rapid weaving through New York crowds, I imagined him ahead of me the entire way to the gate.
Jaime and I did not exchange contact information. We did not spend more than 40 minutes together. Yet, I will never forget her kindness and our synchronistic connection. There is an untouchable faith that lights up inside of me every time I meet someone like her. Strangers are never really strangers. We all have stories to share and places to go. I am certain that without Jaime’s help, I would have missed my flight. But I didn’t.
“Our story isn’t just what we say it is, and it isn’t told only in words. It’s the sum of everything we do.” -Frank Rose, The Sea We Swim In: How Stories Work in a Data-Driven World
We co-create stories every day, every time we connect with another human being. Contrary to individualistic, ego-driven notions of each of us constructing our own reality or life story in a silo, we are actually always adding to the “sum of everything we do,” as Frank Rose put it, in collective consciousness.
As part of this collective, “strangers” show up everywhere, every day (unless you are a hermit). They are often strategic partners in disguise. On a recent retreat to the Tetons for personal and professional growth, I shared a house with six other women, most of whom had been strangers to me prior to that weekend. I had met two of them in Zoom meetings, but the other four were strangers to me - at first.
Within 5 minutes of arriving at the Air BnB just past midnight, I had exchanged hugs with 3 of the women. Our excitement at being there and together was palpable. From powerful conversations on long wilderness hikes to daily cold-plunges in the creek, we grew rapidly closer over the next few days and wove the threads of our collective stories into a colorful tapestry of connection. Through collaborative leadership groups and discovering ways we could help each other, these women became my strategic partners - and my saving graces.
As soon as we look another person in the eye, smile, give a handshake or a hug, and even exchange a few words, we find - often to our great delight - that we are no longer strangers. I find this to be true in business networking just as much as personal situations. Intimacy, depth of connection, with another human requires vulnerability. Not all of us are open to being vulnerable… at first. Or good at it… at first. But with practice, gradually-built trust and significant rewards, we learn to embrace vulnerability. It is often a precursor to grace.
Over the three days of the outdoor retreat, our “house of seven” developed intimate friendships and discovered numerous creative ways we complimented each other. Our synchrodestinies (as Deepak Chopra calls them) were many. We were strangers no more. We now support each other daily on a WhatsApp chat group and celebrate each other’s evolution and progress, both personally and professionally. There are already plans underway for sharing a house on the next retreat in 6 months. Strangers may not simply become familiar, or a one-time saving grace; they may also become much-needed community and vital characters in our story.
As we write, edit and share our life stories through written, spoken and lived experience, we transform strangers into friends and challenges into unexpected graces. And it is through sharing our stories that we connect on the deepest levels and discover more about ourselves through the mirrored lives of others. This, however, requires grace.
Grace is found in the least likely places, like Southwest bag check lines. Public restrooms. Frigid creeks. Overgrown parks. Subway trains. Abandoned school buses. Rooftop gardens. Independent bookstores. Campfires. Wine store cellars. Escalators. Late-night drop-ins from neighbors. These were just a few of the places I found grace in the past couple weeks. And the common denominator? People who cared.
Whether in business or in life, I want to experience – or be someone’s – saving grace each day I can. It is okay if this happens unbeknownst to me. Perhaps it is even better that way. What some may call random acts of kindness, I see as grace at work through us. We are all channeling – communicating – energy. If we listen well, use our voices for good and trust in the kindness of strangers, we just might find ourselves smiling in wonder at the ways grace moves through us. Every. Single. Day.
How have you experienced grace in the presence of strangers lately?
