A Portland jazz club on a random Sunday night
I rarely travel, usually for work, alone. Sometimes I have to force myself to get out of the hotel and explore. The venue is walking distance. Tiny tables, tight quarters, neighborhood vibe. Don't know the band but they've been playing together a long time, and before the first song is over I'm very happy I ventured out.
The couple next to me looks like they're in their mid-50s. Based on the rings they're married, presumably to each other. They're listening with their eyes closed, smiling, holding hands and gently moving together with the beat.
And I realize that's the kind of shared moment I've been chasing my whole life. Unguarded, unperformed. Just two people connecting.
I don't look long. No couple needs some rando staring at them having internal epiphanies. But when I think of the amount of time I spend seeking and consuming screen-based information that matters so much less, and is so much more processed and packaged, I started trying to look for more of those genuine moments happening around me. And to me.
And the more I look, the more I see. Humanity doesn't entirely suck.