Advice from an Old Coot

This weekend Aram and I went to a farmers’ market, weaving through stalls with fancy mushrooms, kale, jam, and breads. We stopped by table selling a strange collection of candles. Leather. Tobacco. Petrichor. Fabuloso. We wandered on. And that’s when we met the Old Coots.

The Old Coots were standing, four of them, in front of a banner: Old Coots Giving Advice.

We walked up.

“Well, our first piece advice, young lady, is to wear long pants and good shoes when it’s this cold out! We can tell that you’re freezin’!” It had rained the night before and was a damp 60 degrees. I was, indeed, freezing.

Aram introduced us and shared that we got married last July and moved to Texas for his Air Force stationing. They cooed, congratulated us, and gave some tips for our first year of marriage—“Ya know, extra lovin’ is always a good idea.” “And don’t spend too much money,” another coot chimed in.

We talked for a few more minutes and as our conversation wrapped up, one of the coots leaned in to give me a hug. “You got yourself a good one,” she said. “I mean, a really good one. Y’all stay strong in your faith and your friendship and y’all will be alright. I mean it.”

Soon we were christened “Old Coots in Training” and sent on our way, smiles abounding.

Our conversation with the Old Coots stuck with me the rest of the day. Not because it was profound in itself, but because it marked a big shift in my engagement with strangers.

A decade ago, I was extremely reserved. I routinely asked my friends to order for me when we went out to eat, and part of my dream to be a librarian was the idea that I could spend my life in a neat, quiet, orderly environment. I hardly looked at the strangers we passed on hiking trails, and I was never one to start small talk with anyone, for any reason.

But something shifted in me in the last few years. Our brush with the Old Coots this weekend was a tiny perfect moment, reminding me of my learned joy of conversations with strangers and the blessing of choosing to engage even (especially!) when things are just outside our comfort zone.

My advice today is not meant for all. Some people are so excellent, so excited, and so ready to talk with strangers, that they don’t need this nudge. And some of us are not.

No matter where you find your next stranger, I wish you happy trails and surprising conversations.

Joyfully,

Emily M

(a young coot—I have the sticker to prove it!)

P.S. Eight months after a grocery-store-aisle complement we tossed to a stranger, Aram and I have made friends with them and enjoyed a backyard campfire together this weekend. You never know where those moments can go!