Oxford Dictionary defines a stepping stone as “a raised stone used singly or in a series as a place on  which to step when crossing a stream or muddy area”. It allows the walker or skipper to cross safely and have some sort of path to follow as they navigate something muddy, nebulous or difficult. Instantly, i’m reminded of connection.

It would seem that in an ever virtually connected world as ours, there’s some part of ourselves, and a significant part at that, that is screaming for genuine, tangible, touchable, human connection. One that you can place your finger along and feel the texture of, holding it close while you cozy up to it. One that keeps the cold at bay. After all, autumn is upon us.

Recently, i traveled to Portugal and stayed at hostels. Hostel culture is simple. Not much to it. A bed in a shared room, often a shared bathroom and shared common spaces. Shared. Other humans. Souls. Spirits. Personalities. Scents. Odours. It’s inevitable that you will run into other people at a hostel. It’s unavoidable.

During my stay, i’d often go to the kitchen to make a meal and was observing something strange. There would be a handful of people – three, four, sometimes five at a time, definitely more than two and they were cooking…in complete silence. Not talking, not interacting, each one keeping to their own lane as if programmed like the ghosts in Pacman, never touching, never crossing. Zero acknowledgement of one another and it was downright bizarre. It was as if everyone was walking on metaphorical tip toe, trying not to take up too much space, trying not to be a bother and almost apologising for their very existence. Something felt off. A podcast that I’d listened to recently, reminded me that you must create the culture you want to experience, sometimes being the one who initiates or takes the first step; i (still feeling small) took a deep breath in, ingesting courage and on the exhale, greeted the room. 

“Hello everyone!” I announced warmly with a smile, inwardly laughing at myself like what am i doing and feeling a bit uncomfortable. Just ever so slightly, the invisible curtain lifted and the human in each person came out to play. Slowly, shyly, softly, I learned that one of them was an Italian guy living in Bern, Switzerland. Looking more French with his moustache, Dutch in height, but sounding more and more Italian as he spoke, told me that his name was Francesco and he was a patisserie chef who worked for Michelin star restaurants. He showed us photos of his art like delicacies that looked liked they required a pause of acknowledgement before consumption. Another was named Hanna, she was German and had fairy like gestures when she moved her hands to communicate. Short blond fringe framed her face and brows bedecked her soft hazel eyes. She was studying pyschology and was still on Summer holiday before classes started. She revealed that she was fascinated by what motivates people and why they do what they do and wanted to learn more. And all of us were there, here, really here-there suddenly seeing each other and it was a beautiful occurrence, almost phantasmagoric. My insides smiled. 

Later, with our respective dinners, we sat down together and broke bread. Like baby turtles, each one of us came more out of our shell, more out of ourselves, sticking out our necks to stretch and take it all in: the scene, the moment, the surroundings, the context, the characters and the atmosphere. Somehow, everything became tinged with significance. A kind of magical meaning. I felt seen, really seen and it seemed they did as well. We were seeing with new eyes, ones that opened. There’s something about community that has a deliciously healing and life giving quality about it, one that inspires and emits a balming hope and a love that glues and sticks.

It would seem that connection begins with some type of warmth – a greeting, a handshake, a laugh, a meal…warmth in some form that breaks the ice, cuts the tension and melts away self consciousness, chipping away the ego; some kind of stepping stone that simultaneously causes one to step out of themselves and bridge the gap – paving the way forward – between one person to another, making it possible to reach each other, connecting, linking, relating, uniting! 

I learned something that day. That it starts with a smile. Doesn’t have to be loud. It can be soft, even shy, but it’s a small stepping stone. Maybe even to something beautiful.