Why we shouldn't start a podcast

The Holiday is one of the greatest movies ever made according to, well, according to me. The peak relationship - and there are plenty of good ones - is Iris and Arthur's, who meet as he walks his walker down the street, wondering if he would ever recognize his home. The two nurture each other, feeding off of that sublime encounter of a long life, full life, experienced life and one who hasn't learned to fly. Miles - Iris' other newfound friend - also one of clipped wings, quickly gets drawn into that vortex of goodness.

I was reminded of The Holiday when I met Ruth and Beth at a buzzing coffee shop. The first thing I noticed: they were magnets of kindness. People flocked to help them. They walked into the coffee shop and were quite vocal about their inability to navigate the milk station and the water fountain and their assigned table number - and people helped. That's why I call them magnets of kindness. They didn't even have to ask. People helped. Nothing thaws the heart faster than kindness.

They sat next to me and talked. So I stayed, sitting by that warm, growing fire. I have heard plenty of young-ish people saying something of the ilk of "We should start a podcast!", enthused by how much a conversation absorbed and absolved them of the sins of individualism and indifference. Yet, the best thing about a conversation is what it does to the conversees. Then and there, in real life, where that warm fire can grow.

Ruth and Beth, from the heights of their ninth decade, ended up pulling me into their fireplace, as I prepared to finally leave. For over one flying hour, our exchange reached the depths of stranded strangers waiting to board a delayed flight, late-night friends, or life-travelers in sprawling brunches spilling into the evening. Or dinner parties greeting the sunrise.

We shouldn't start a podcast. We should simply get together and chat. With our friends, with the Ruths and Beths of this world, before they make it to the next. In our fireside chat, they mentioned that, ultimately, everyone is alone. I think we can do better. We can work towards being alone, together.