I subscribe to newsletters. Not exactly a guilty pleasure but a way of staying abreast of things that interest me. Some turn out to be stinkers and others, I look forward to. One I like a lot comes from Frank Bruni, an op-ed writer and critic for a big daily newspaper. He recently moved from NYC to Chapel Hill, NC and has taken his readers along for the ride. I’ve included a recent Bruni reflection that we here at Indigo Rush think is pitch perfect in terms of what we often refer to as ‘community’ and ‘connectedness’.

Anyway, take a few moments and treat yourself. It’s a short piece with long affect.

Nik

In our corner of Chapel Hill, N.C. — and maybe, for all I know, in all of Chapel Hill — you wave at people you presume to be neighbors. You do that if you drive by them. You do that if you walk past them. If you’ve never met them. If you never will.

They’re part of your community. They get a wave.

It’s totally odd. And completely endearing.

A prior version of me would have deemed it phony and disparaged it as such. What does all this waving really add up to? It requires no significant effort. No sacrifice. It makes no discernment.

I’ve no idea whether one of those wavers would be at my doorstep if I was in need; they’ve no idea whether I’d be at theirs. They don’t even know which doorstep is mine.

But with each new round of waves, I found myself warming to them, even craving them a little. They were like a favorite melody heard faintly in the distance or a trill of birdsong where I hadn’t expected birds — little grace notes challenging the din or dirge of a given day. They were a statement, however shallow, about how life is ideally lived, with courtesy and projections of warmth. They were a recognition of connectedness and, in that sense, an embrace of the truth: We all are connected. Why not wave?

On perhaps my fifth day and 12th walk through the neighborhood, something more surprising than that first wave happened. A car came up behind Regan and me and — before I consciously formed the intent — I turned slightly around, raised my right arm and moved my hand from side to side. I wondered for a cynical second if I’d been indoctrinated.

- Frank Bruni