When You Stop Avoiding, You Start Connecting. Here’s a powerful lesson I experienced in the airport. Consider this. The people you avoid are the ones we need to connect with, who remind us we’re human.
I was sitting at the gate, waiting to board my flight home. That’s when I noticed him. He was sitting in a wheelchair near the window, watching the runway. Around him, strangers were chatting. Two people bonding over their dogs, someone complaining about the delay, but no one spoke to him.
They’d glance, smile awkwardly, then look away. Like his wheelchair made him invisible.
I caught myself watching that avoidance. It wasn’t cruelty. It was discomfort. People didn’t know what to do, so they did nothing.
Instead, I walked over to him, smiled, and asked, “Are you heading home or somewhere else?”
He looked up, surprised. “Somewhere else,” he said. “I’m flying to an international conference on healthcare.” He paused, then added with a grin, “I’m actually the CEO of the company and the keynote speaker.”
“It sounds like we have the same job. I’m speaking too. Different crowd, same mission. To make an impact.”
I introduced myself. “I’m Keith.”
“Joe,” he replied. “Great to meet you.”
That’s when something shifted. The conversation took off like we’d known each other for years. We talked about leadership, personal challenges, goals, family, and business.
As we talked, I could see the people who had looked away now watching us. Their expressions changed. Some smiled. Some looked ashamed.
He noticed too. “It’s funny,” he said quietly. “When people see me, they assume I’m different. They forget that I have the same job, stress, late flights, and a life waiting for me back home. Most people don’t look long enough to find the person beyond the chair.”
We talked until his group was called. He turned to me before boarding and said, “I really appreciate you coming over. Most people don’t. They mean well. They just don’t.”
I nodded. “Sometimes it just takes one person to remind everyone else how human we all are.”
After he left, I watched how everyone’s energy had changed. It was like one simple conversation cracked open a quiet permission for people to care and recognize others.
Replace judgment with acceptance and care and suddenly, deeper connection becomes possible again. One conversation, one act of noticing, one decision to see the person instead of the difference.
As I sat there, watching him board, I kept thinking about how often we’re told to, “look up.”
Look up from our phones. Get out of our own head. Be present to see life happening around us.
But what if, sometimes, we’re meant to look down? This is the moment you stop seeing the chair and start seeing the man.
Not down in pity, but with awareness and care. Down, where someone might be sitting in a wheelchair. Down, where real human connection often waits, quietly, to be noticed.
That day in the airport was about remembering how many people we pass every day who carry stories just as complex, and human as our own.
That moment didn’t make me feel like a better person. It made me feel more human.
Maybe that’s the world really needs. A few more of us willing to look down, or reach across to someone different than ourselves, and see what we’ve been missing.
That’s where our shared humanity lives.
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