Life becomes more meaningful when you realize the simple fact that you will never get the same moment twice.
If you know me, you know I have a very special relationship with traveling – and not always in the smoothest way. Somehow, the moment I step into an airport, things start to unfold unpredictably: flights get delayed, unexpected maintenance pops up, something stops working, or I miss my connection for reasons out of my control. It’s almost comical at this point. Almost.
But out of all that travel chaos, exhaustion, and uncertainty, I’ve learned something important – something I carry with me far beyond the boarding gate. Instead of feeling defeated by circumstances I couldn’t change, I started paying attention to the people around me. I leaned in. I began to truly see them.
And what I found was magical.
I’ve met people from all walks of life – each carrying their own stories, worries, and dreams, just like I was. I’ve listened to a nurse flying home after months of caring for patients, a student chasing an opportunity in a new country, and once, a 90-year-old grandmother traveling to Hawaii for her granddaughter’s wedding. The love and joy in her eyes spoke louder than words. “Life is too short not to show up for moments that matter,” she said. That stuck with me. She reminded me that life isn’t about perfectly unpacking every story – it’s about living it in real time, embracing the mess, the wonder, and the unpredictability.
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One of my most vivid memories happened when I was traveling solo to India for 10 days – a trip I had been eagerly awaiting. But the moment I reached Chicago, things started falling apart. My flight was delayed … then canceled. What was supposed to be a straightforward journey turned into two days of being stuck, rerouted, and exhausted. But somewhere in between the terminal chairs, long coffee lines, and gate changes, I met people who turned my delay into a moment of connection. We swapped stories, snacks, phone chargers, and even silent prayers.
In those moments, what could have been frustration became a connection. Conversations weren’t just time-fillers – they were reminders that we’re not alone. These unexpected delays became milestone memories. I realized: it’s not about “why me?” It’s about “why not open up to this moment?”
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You never know what people are carrying until you meet them in these vulnerable spaces – in between their origin and destination. You don’t know the battles they’ve just walked through: fragile relationships, fear of flying, fresh heartbreaks, or the courage to start over. And somehow, in those suspended hours together, we all just get it. We hold space for each other.
I stopped asking, “Why does this always happen to me?” and started counting blessings even in the delays. I thought of those who were keeping me in their prayers, those who’ve always been just one phone call away.
And that’s something I want to share with you: if someone comes to mind, don’t wait. Don’t say “I’ll call them later.” Call now. Reach out. You never know if that call might be exactly what they needed – or what you needed, too.
Through personal experience, I can tell you: I’ve picked up the phone and called relatives I hadn’t talked to in decades. Old friends who once shaped my childhood. And you know what? It didn’t matter how long it had been – we picked up like no time had passed. We laughed. We cried. We remembered.
The relationships we build when we’re young – free of expectations, rooted in curiosity and kindness – are pure gold. In my Girl Scout days, we sing a song I’ll never forget:
“Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other’s gold. The circle is round, it has no end – that’s how long I want to be your friend.”
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So let’s make our circles more visible, more valuable, more vulnerable. Let’s build spaces where people feel seen, heard, and loved – whether for a fleeting airport delay or a lifelong friendship. Let our shared humanity speak louder than the chaos around us. May we be ambassadors of kindness and compassion, creating communities that hold space for stories – told and untold.
Life moves fast. But I’ve learned that slowing down to notice one stranger’s smile, one conversation, one detour … is a blessing in disguise.
And now I ask you – what’s your travel story? The good, the bad, the breathtaking, and everything in between. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just the destination that changes you – it’s the people you meet along the way.
Pooja Thakkar is working to build connections through cuisine. You can read her column each week in the pages of The Reporter.