An empty seat.

Riding the subway yesterday I couldn't help noticing the perfectly feng shui placement of people sitting in every other seat. Granted the subway is a bit old school and the seats haven't been updated to accommodate our large luscious American booties, but would that really have made a difference? The seats in most airports around the US (and I've been in most) are pretty spacious and yet when choosing a seat people meander around looking for additional empty seats...often choosing in the end to stand.

Why?

Why do we avoid the empty seat adjacent to a stranger? Seems we've become so accustomed to our personal space that we avoid infringing on others. In a world of connecting via electronics are we losing our ability to connect, to touch, to see, to be a part of one another's lives?

Flying over the winter holidays is shear insanity - I do it every year with the promise of never doing it again. This last year I was held up in the DC airport with thousands of others due to weather conditions. As I walked around the airport, trying to pass the time away, I noticed a woman trying to place a call at the payphone. I actually had forgotten that payphones still existed. Seemed utterly unnecessary for this poor woman to pay for her call. I approached her and offered my cell phone. She explained in a familiar accent that the call was international. "Not a problem, I have Skype".

As I set my computer up for her to access Skype (yes I realize if I had an iPhone this would've taken less steps) I started inquiring about her story. She was from South Africa - a place I knew fairly well as I'd lived there for a period of time. She'd been in America on business, was heading home when her flight was cancelled, and had been trying to reach her husband for hours to let him know she was stuck in DC. She was exhausted, sad, frazzled, and felt completely out of her element - helpless and losing hope.

I love moments like these - simple human connection through a simple gesture.

After making the call to her husband and sending a few emails to co-workers explaining her situation she thanked me profusely, offered to buy me coffee (to which I declined as I'd just filled my mug with tea), and parted ways.

From this one seemingly insignificant moment my spirit was instantly lifted. I no longer cared about waiting in the airport. I began chatting with people around me and tried to ease their minds about being home for the holidays. I felt like skipping, throwing daisy peddles, dancing a jig - joy, pure joy, resounded through me.

What do I make of all this?

I'm not exactly sure.

In simple terms I now see an empty seat as an opportunity - an opportunity to connect, to touch, to see, to be a part of another's life.