What becomes possible may surprise them both.
Sometimes two people meet.
In passing. Over coffee. At a gathering.
Nothing remarkable seems to happen.
Then, hours later—or perhaps days—one of them suddenly realizes something has changed.
Not because the other person offered the perfect advice.
Not because a problem was solved.
But because something became possible.
It is difficult to point to.
Almost impossible to explain.
Yet many of us have known such moments.
We leave carrying something we did not bring.
Not a new idea.
Not a conclusion.
A different way of seeing.
Perhaps something became lived that neither person had lived before.
The words may fade.
Yet something remains.
You may never know exactly what changed.
Only that something did.
Perhaps you have known it too.
You may simply have called it something else.
Perhaps you would call it Meeting.
Perhaps this is what Meeting feels like.
When something already present begins to become lived.