The wonder of life is all around us. What might we make possible for one another?

On a recent Friday afternoon, I was boarding a train when I noticed a woman with a large pram. She had a baby with her, along with her three-year-old son and a friend. I offered to help lift the pram into the carriage.

She thanked me profusely, and we began chatting. Forty minutes later, when I reached my stop, we were still talking.

She was originally from London but now lived in New York with her American husband. She was back for two weeks to visit her mother, and that afternoon she was taking the children to Harry Potter World in Watford.

She worked as a tax consultant at one of the leading consultancy firms. We connected on LinkedIn during our conversation and discovered that we had a friend in common. Such a small world! A few minutes earlier, we had been strangers trying to board the same train.

Before we parted, I gave her a signed copy of my book, Get the Life You Love. We may never meet again, but she has a memento of our encounter, and my afternoon was brighter and richer for having met her.

There was something rather lovely about finding a little magic together while she and her children were on their way to a place of magic.

Truly Connecting versus Motive-filled Networking

During our conversation, she remarked that I clearly liked networking. I told her that, for me, it was about connecting.

The kind of networking I find uncomfortable carries an unspoken agenda. We may appear interested while quietly wondering whether someone could become a client, make an introduction or help us get somewhere.

True connection begins with an interest in the person. I offered to help before I knew what she did for a living. We kept talking because we enjoyed it.

Of course, a connection may eventually lead to friendship, collaboration or business. Those possibilities are welcome. But when we approach someone with warmth, our interest needn’t depend on what we might receive in return.

The conversation already has value. We can leave it grateful, even if nothing else ever comes of it.

A Question That Touched Something Deep in Me

Earlier that week, I reread an article I wrote in 2010 about living as though everything is a miracle. As I reflected on it and on the train encounter, a question began to take hold:

What if we are here to create miracles for one another?

Something about those words touched me deeply. I felt it in my body before I could fully explain it. There was a sense of recognition: perhaps this is what life is about. Perhaps this is what I am here to do.

I have spent years writing about love, bringing people together and helping people create lives they love. Yet this question helped me see a thread running through it all.

We have so much capacity to make a difference to one another. We can listen, encourage, introduce, teach, comfort and create. What if we approached each day with the intention of putting those gifts into service?

I thought again about the five miracles in my old article:

  • The miracle of life. I once waited outside a maternity ward while a friend gave birth. When the baby’s beaming father invited me in, their little boy lay beside his mother, eyes wide open, looking as though he had always been there. An entire life was ahead of him. I remember being filled with wonder simply to be in his presence.
  • The miracle of love. Love reaches far beyond romance. A hug, a kind word or the steady presence of a friend can help us feel less alone. Think of someone whose care has carried you through a difficult time. It is extraordinary how much one human being can mean to another.
  • The miracle of our bodies. My first nephew was born a few weeks prematurely and spent his first month in an incubator. Watching that tiny boy grow stronger, day by day and ounce by ounce, opened my eyes to how hard a body works to sustain life. I have never forgotten it.
  • The miracle of nature. I wrote about looking closely at a flower and appreciating the world from the humble ant to the majestic oak. As a volunteer ranger in Regent’s Park, I still find so much to marvel at. Sometimes the most valuable thing I can do is slow down enough to notice.
  • The miracle of our creativity. An idea can become a book, a gathering, a business or an invention. Something that began in one person’s imagination can eventually touch lives they will never see. The question that interests me is what we choose to create, and how it might serve.

Looking at those five gifts together, I find myself asking: having received so much, what can I help make possible for someone else?

What might become possible through the care we offer?

Making Extraordinary Possibilities More Likely

I don’t know what the woman on the train will find in my book. Perhaps something will speak to her. Perhaps our encounter will simply remain a pleasant memory. I am glad we met either way.

But consider how much can grow from a small human gesture. An introduction may begin a lifelong friendship. Someone’s encouragement may help us attempt something we have almost given up on. Being listened to without judgement may allow us to speak honestly for the first time.

From the outside, these moments can look ordinary. To the person receiving them, they may arrive at exactly the time they are needed.

We cannot arrange a miracle on demand. We can live in ways that make extraordinary possibilities more likely for one another.

That is what I want to help people do through The Connection Revolution and through my work. It is also how I want to live myself.

It begins with a willingness to notice. On that Friday, there was a pram to lift. Another day, it might be a friend who needs encouragement, a colleague whose contribution deserves recognition, or someone standing alone at a gathering.

We can become curious about what would help, without assuming we know. Sometimes a question is the kindest beginning: “Would you like a hand?” or “Would it help to talk?”

Then we can offer what is ours to give. It may be a few minutes of attention, a useful introduction or some practical help. We do our part and allow the other person to decide what they want to do with it.

The more we practise this, the more we give connection a chance to grow. Service becomes part of how we meet the world, woven into the life we are already living.

What Might You Make Possible Today?

In my old article, I invited readers to pause and notice the miraculous around them. I still love that invitation. Look closely at a flower. Appreciate your body carrying you through the day. Tell someone you love what they mean to you.

Today, I invite you to take that appreciation a little further.

Before one conversation, one meeting or one ordinary encounter, quietly ask yourself:

What might I make possible for this person today?

You don’t need an impressive answer. Begin with something you can offer freely, and see what happens.

For me, it began with lifting a pram. I came away with a new connection and a reminder of something I want to keep close to my heart: our presence in one another’s lives can matter more than we ever know.

I cannot tell you what you are here to do. But I feel something becoming clearer in me: I want to spend my life helping extraordinary possibilities become more likely for others. And I would love to discover what we could make possible together.

If this question touches something in you too, I would love to hear from you. Share your thoughts in the comments below. What has someone made possible for you—and what would you love to make possible for someone else?

The miracle of flowers