Every meeting begins long before the first words are spoken.
A few weeks ago, I was volunteering with the Samaritans at Happy Valley Pride.
Throughout the day, people wandered over to our stand. Some wanted to know more about the Samaritans. Some stopped for a chat before moving on. Others simply smiled as they passed.
One Conversation Has Stayed with Me
A man approached on his own.
As we talked, I found myself wondering what it takes to walk into an event like Pride by yourself. There was something tentative in the way he approached us. My impression was that he wasn’t quite sure where he fitted in, but there was also a quiet determination to be there.
I don’t know whether my impression was right. Perhaps he had friends waiting elsewhere. Perhaps he had been to Pride many times before. Perhaps what I noticed said as much about me as it did about him.
But the meeting stayed with me. Not because of what we talked about. Because, for a few minutes, two strangers were simply present with one another.
There was nothing remarkable about it. I didn’t offer him advice, and he didn’t tell me some extraordinary story. We simply talked.
But somewhere in that conversation, something seemed to settle. Perhaps in him. Perhaps in me. Perhaps between us.
I didn’t know then that I would still be thinking about it later. Later that evening, I found myself wondering why.
Why had such an ordinary conversation remained with me when so many others had already faded?
The Nature of Meeting
The answer, I think, lies somewhere in the nature of meeting. We spend much of our lives moving from one meeting to the next.
Some last only a few moments. Others become friendships that accompany us for years. Some grow into loving relationships. Some become working partnerships that shape our careers.
And some are brief encounters with people whose names we never learn, yet somehow they remain with us.
We Never Know Which Meeting Will Matter
Perhaps that is why every meeting deserves our attention.
Over the years, I have lived and worked in different countries and cultures. My career has taken me from the Swedish Foreign Office, through law firms and work with FTSE 100 organisations, to project management and leadership, coaching and, more recently, volunteering with the Samaritans.
Looking back, I realise that the settings have changed, sometimes considerably, but the question has remained remarkably similar:
What happens when one human being truly meets another?
Different cultures greet one another differently. Different organisations have different ways of working. Different communities have different traditions.
Yet beneath those differences, I have found something deeply familiar.
We want to belong. We want to know that we matter. We hope to be met for who we are, rather than for who someone else expects us to be.
“All Real Living Is Meeting”
Perhaps that is why Martin Buber’s words continue to resonate with me:
“All real living is meeting.”
The older I become, the less I hear those words as a philosophical idea and the more I experience them as an invitation.
An invitation to arrive.
- To notice
- To listen
- To become curious before becoming certain
Perhaps that is what happened in that brief conversation at Pride.
I noticed him. But I also noticed myself noticing him.
I had formed an impression: that he seemed uncertain, perhaps a little alone, perhaps looking for somewhere to belong.
And then another thought arrived.
What if I was wrong?
That question matters.
Because the moment I become certain that I know another person’s story, I risk no longer being curious about the person standing in front of me.
Gestalt Asks Something Different of Us
To notice what is happening now, in ourselves, in the other person, and in the space between us, without rushing too quickly to explain it.
Perhaps awareness begins there.
- Not with knowing
- With noticing
- With listening
- With being willing to remain curious a little longer
Perhaps that is also what allows us to meet people where they are. Not where we wish they were. Not where we think they should be. But where they are, in this moment.
That is true whether we are talking with a lifelong friend, a colleague, a client, or a stranger we may never see again.
Every Meeting Holds a Possibility
Not every meeting becomes a friendship. Not every friendship lasts. Not every conversation changes a life. But every genuine meeting has the potential to change something, however small.
Sometimes it changes the other person. Sometimes it changes us.
And sometimes it simply reminds us that, beneath all our differences, we share a human longing: to be seen, to belong and to be accepted.
Where Awareness Begins
I don’t know what became of the man I met that afternoon. Perhaps our conversation was forgotten within the hour. I have no way of knowing.
I only know that it stayed with me. Not because I believed I had done anything remarkable. But because it reminded me that every person we meet is carrying a story we can only glimpse.
For a few minutes, our lives crossed. Then we each continued on our way.
It was an ordinary meeting.
Yet perhaps life is shaped less by extraordinary moments than by ordinary moments in which we are fully present.
I like to think that is where awareness begins.
And perhaps that is why every meaningful meeting begins long before the first words are spoken.