Beautiful Interruptions

We’ve just spent a fortnight in the amazing city of Edinburgh. The city is crowded with tourists, locals, performers and Fringers like us. For me these teeming streets exhale inspiration. Anything is possible. Thousands of people have crafted their shows, ready to entertain, shock and enthral. The creativity seems to ooze out of bodies and buildings, just waiting for bystanders to absorb.

We make a point of travelling down the Royal Mile (even though it can be at a slow and frustrating pace) because there are so many opportunities to chat with strangers. This is not something we generally do back in our home town (although I think we’re getting better) but it is something we look forward to as part of our Fringe Festival experience.

This year we met a girl called Alice, she was performing in two shows and we ended up talking to her for quite a while. We heard about some of her previous Edinburgh experiences, the tour of her show in Australia, her boyfriend and of course the shows she was promoting at the festival. We ended up going to both of her shows and enjoyed them. I happened to bump into her again on our penultimate day in the city. She was delighted to see me and keen to discover what other shows we had enjoyed. She then excitedly shared with me that her boyfriend had proposed and they were now engaged. She then thrust her hand with the ring in my direction. There is something both beautiful and intimate sharing moments like these with complete strangers.

Yeats wrote ‘There are no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met.’

A stranger we have befriended (some might say stalked) since our first visit to the Edinburgh Festival was performing his seventh fringe show. We were thrilled to discover his show had sold out both times we tried to see it. It meant a lot that he arranged to get us in anyway.

The atmosphere and the fact that a number of people are trying to get your attention (to give you their flyers) means it is easy to start up conversations. I know I find this much more difficult back at home. I am convinced that it is worth making the effort locally as these moments shared with strangers will be treasured just as much as the shows we have loved this year.

We’ve been trained to be wary of strangers and to obey public transport etiquette: eyes down, only speak when absolutely necessary. As a result we miss out on little joy moments in our day. These bring happiness to others too. One guy, handing out flyers, would start his patter ‘Hi, how are you?’ when we responded by asking how he was, he was taken aback and said ‘no one normally asks how I am.’

I am as guilty as the next person for rushing through life, particularly on journeys whether it’s walking or on public transport. We’re reminded to stop and smell the roses but there are people out there too; people who would love to be acknowledged and receive a smile. All too often we can feel invisible amongst a sea of faces. When someone smiles or takes the time to say a few words we feel acknowledged and connected. It is the start of community to acknowledge and recognise the people around you. It feels strange that a city has become another home to me. Even though it is 380 miles away and I have never actually lived there, it holds a piece of my heart. I think part of the reason is conversations with strangers. Even though they, like me, may not be locals, our shared experiences in the same location create a temporary community.

So next time you’re out and about or waiting in a queue, try starting a conversation with a stranger. Who knows where it could lead?