I remember as a boy growing up in a southeast suburb of Philadelphia, we used to spend summers at my grandparents' home in Front Royal, Virginia. It was about a five-hour drive, and the journey was always a time of great anticipation. We’d play games, spotting numbers on license plates and passing the time as the highway stretched on.
But one trip stands out vividly. There had been an accident—a jackknifed tractor-trailer—over a mile ahead of us, and traffic came to a complete stop. At first, everyone was frustrated, stuck in their cars with nowhere to go. And then, something amazing happened.
People started getting out of their vehicles. Strangers began talking to one another. Someone brought out a football, and soon it was being tossed around. Food was shared. Laughter rang out. Even the grassy median, just a blur of green we usually sped past, became a gathering place. Kids played while adults sat on the grass. For a brief moment, all our usual expectations had shattered, and we saw one another—really saw each other—as human beings. People connected in a way that felt honest and beautiful.
It made me realize how often we’re speeding down life’s highways, failing to notice the people around us, failing to seize the opportunities to connect. Sometimes it takes something drastic to break through our expectations and remind us to stop and see. But here’s the thing—you don’t need a traffic jam to experience this. You can do it anytime.
Today, as you go about your errands—at the supermarket or wherever you find yourself—pause for a moment. Really look at the people around you. Let yourself see them in their wholeness. Spread a little compassion and awareness. If you drop the mask of your own expectations, you’ll notice something remarkable: others will drop their masks too. In that moment, you’ll discover a kind of beauty that’s always been there, waiting for you to notice.
But let me add one more thing. I remember during that traffic jam, every now and then the cars ahead of us would inch forward. And just like that, everyone would jump back into their vehicles, honking their horns like maniacs. It was as if the spell had broken, pulling us back into our old habits of frustration and impatience.
Be mindful of that pull. Recognize it in yourself. Resist the urge to lean on the horn. Instead, stay where you are. Breathe. Look around. Appreciate the moment and the place where you stand.
Do it today.
