There’s something curiously effervescent about waving at people who don’t expect it.

I was running through suburbia — you know the kind: strip malls, traffic, cookie-cutter houses whose walls almost kiss, and a lot of pavement.

As my feet pounded on an overpass across a major highway, the river of cars below roared over the music in my headphones, an engulfing onslaught. Meanwhile, beneath me, the individuals in their hermetically-sealed plastic-metal boxes could just barely drown out the noise of the traffic surrounding them.

All these people, cars kiss-distance apart, yet no connection. It struck me as melancholic.

Running along, I was nearing the end of the overpass and stopped suddenly, mid-stride. Backpedaling, I retraced my steps back to the middle of the overpass, gazing at the rushing cars below, and began making rainbows with my hands. Back and forth, back and forth I waved.

How do we connect with strangers?

We do it with whimsy, with slightly breaking social norms we may feel confined to, with breaking the monotony of an afternoon commute.

As I stood there on that bridge, helicoptering my arms, a delicious joy bubbled up and out through my body. While 90% of the drivers and passengers below didn’t see me or didn’t wave, the few who did absolutely made my day. Here were two people, unknowingly thrust into the same space and time of existence by sheer chance, connecting over a universal symbol of ‘Hello.’

Hello, new friend. It’s nice to meet you, if only for a split second.

As worlds intersected over and over for mere moments, I couldn’t help but smile wider and wider. Grinning turned into laughter turned into pure, unadulterated joy. I was floating, effervescent, lifted by the smiles of strangers below. The suburbs suddenly didn’t feel so lonely.

How many times do we pass up an opportunity to connect with another human being? To look into their eyes as they pass by, instead of at the ground?

When our initial, ingrained impulse is to ‘stay in our lanes,’ perhaps it’s time to look up, and wave.