There’s nothing more thrilling than the rush of adrenaline that taking a risk, albeit small, provides. There are days that seem like they were made for a particular activity, like fishing or hiking, watching a movie or going on a date. Today was such a one for risk taking. 

The day itself began like any other. I awoke, clothed and nourished myself before departing for an honest day’s work in the office, but this time I had a mint green sign with me that said ‘Wishing you a wonderful day’ which I had written in big, visible letters with permanent ink the night before.

Entering the car, I turned the key in the ignition and embarked on my quest: hold up the sign to some unsuspecting someones at a stoplight. I drove like any other morning, but today felt different. I felt different. I had a sidequest and it tinged everything in a more festive light. Like I had donned iridescent glasses and was seeing out of them, ogling the whole way, of course. 

The first stoplight approached fast and I slowed to a stilled stop. I took my sign and heart beating fast, waved it at the silver haired lady next door to my left. She glanced over, read the sign and a smile brightened her wrinkled visage. She waved back and both of us smiled like kids with a double scooping of ice cream. The light turned green and we both drove on like nothing had happened. The surrounding drivers were none the wiser, suspecting nothing. No one but ourselves, were in on the game, threaded together by this secret of shared connection. It was oddly, indescribably, thrilling. 

Next stoplight and I held the sign up, trusting, hoping, heart still beating but not as fast as before. This time the driver next to me was a man on his phone. Sign still glued to the window, I waved at him. He didn’t even look up, so absorbed in the screen, left to his own devices, that no matter how hard I willed him to look in my direction, it came to naught. Too consumed was he and as he sat completely unaware of the comical scene going on around him, the light turned green, and he continued obliviously. I shrugged and went on my merry way looking for other people to greet. I suppose in this game, you win some and lose others. Maybe this game of mine had the opportunity of becoming an exercise in rejection, and learning to bear it with a graceful nonchalance would serve me well.

The next stoplight came on fast and I readied my sign, letting go of any inhibition that might be holding me back and stuck it up, trusting that the sign would find the exact people that needed it most and, without missing a beat, it did. Hope has a way of doing that. 

My next victim was a middle aged woman with a beanie atop her head and I bravely stuck up my little sign, growing in confidence, starting to get used to this game and not caring whether I got rejected or accepted. She glanced over, read the words with curiosity and then beamed a Cheshire cat grin and blew me a heart emoji with her hands. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. It seems, a smile is worth a million. This game of mine had its own rewards, despite any accrued losses.   

The morning had taken on a more colourful tone and was more exciting, maybe because today I actually had some skin in the game—an active participant. Doing something small that created meaning. Sometimes, I wonder if we’re not starved for it—meaning—that like a resin holds us together and makes our day more memorable, wholly distinct from the next. Maybe that’s why today felt so special. 

My sign went up again, almost of its own accord, to a man. At first, he was confused and then his furrowed brow smoothed over with acknowledgement. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up which I returned. Short and savoury.  

I waved the words again at another lady and she smiled and gave me the best reaction I’d received so far that day. She rolled her window down so I, in turn, rolled down mine. ‘You have a wonderful day as well, sweet heart’, she bid me. Written word met spoken and they both met in the middle and did a little jig, somewhere between our two cars. 

All because of a silly sign, this beautiful moment was created. Our interaction—cute and spontaneous—made me feel seen and part of something grand. Maybe it was a reminder that we are indeed part of something grand which is ridiculously easy to forget, but there are moments, specific ones, that drip with significance, like honey from its comb, inviting us back to the here-and-now, sharpening the senses and heightening our lives with vibrancy. Maybe that’s what it’s all about: meaning melded into moments, resolving into love.    

The game had turned into a reflection. That morning, as I waved my sign at other people, not everyone saw it: some, because they were checked out; others, although they saw my sign out of the corner of their eye, stared but staunchly ahead, not daring to look to the side at my sign. They wouldn’t let me wish them a wonderful day and maybe they had a reason for it. Maybe they had been burned in the past and no longer trusted. Or perhaps they were disinterested. Maybe they even suspected some sort of scam or assumed I meant them harm. Sadly, they’ll never really know because they never really looked and so they lost, in a way. They missed out on an exchange, out on meaning, out on possibility. All I can say is that the people whom the words found were somehow altered, as I was—somehow more formed, more hewn with gravitas. And I—the luckiest of the lot—was more touched by these morning exchanges than I had initially thought possible. And I suppose the moral of the story is this: one never knows until one tries.