Must I Start Smoking?

“You’ll have to start smoking if you want to meet people in Berlin,” a friend joked to me the other day. But she was only half-joking; asking a stranger for a cigarette or a light is apparently a key social strategy in Europe. I was momentarily stung with panic at the prospect of sacrificing my lungs to ignite my social life. Surely I have other tools for breaking ice at my disposal…

Thankfully, it doesn’t take all that long to jot down a list of smoke-free alternatives. A couple of mine would appear quite alien to myself from even just a few years ago:

  • This first one is a tough one for me. Wear branded clothing. My lifelong friend, Jan, was rocking an obscure web-comic graphic tee as I toured him around Victoria a couple years back. He was stopped four times (“dude, are you here from the 1990s? Love the shirt, bro!”) and made four new friends.

  • Find some way to talk loudly about psychedelic assisted therapy in a coffee shop. I’ve genuinely had multiple strangers politely approach me excitedly during the last month while I discussed my research with friends.

  • Bring a camera. Photographing strangers is something I’d like to work on more.

  • Leave the camera at home. On the plane trip over to the Caribbean, I made a resolution not to take my camera out. I want to be as present as possible here. Wonderfully, I’ve felt absolutely no urge to photograph any of the wonderful people or places I’ve come across in my time here so far.

Telling the lovely older lady next to me on the plane about this decision was part of what led to her insisting that I stick with her through the airport so she could point out which bus I had to get on. Before I left she yanked me down, kissed me on the top of the head and said “be good and have fun.”

I’ve written about the conflict I feel between photography and true first-hand experience elsewhere, so I won’t rattle on about this too much. I mostly included this here as some sneaky exposition for the next part of this piece.

  • When solo-travelling, I’m only allowed to bring myself, a notebook, and a pen to restaurants. When waiting for my food, I’m either observing the space and people around me, maybe journaling, or striking up a conversation. Deciding not to have your phone out (or even a book) is quite a statement nowadays. You’re wearing a sign: I WANT TO CHAT!

This led to a highlight of the trip (it’s only been two days, but oh my, the bar has been set). I wandered into a breakfast bistro, and because of having nothing in my hands, ended up speaking with the owner. Soon enough, she’d introduced me to the co-owner (“you have to chat with him; he’s lived in Germany!”) and eventually to a discussion where I mentioned my notebook-only rule. Instantly, the woman declared—“you have got to meet my niece, Mikaela. She’s a yoga instructor and a life coach. You’d get along.” We got in touch later that day, and after shuffling some plans around she offered to pick me up and take me for a drive out to a little hillside gym where she would be holding a yoga class that evening. YES. 

The most incredible (and properly local!) experience, and a wonderful food truck dinner & conversation with her and a couple of her friends later that night. I can’t say how much this meant to me, as someone travelling alone with no plans and knowing not a single person here. Beautiful people.

  • Make a film (or try to). When things don’t work out, be willing to make it in a cardboard box. Trying to find a location where we could shoot The Only Bar on King Street led us through Old Montreal, Toronto’s King Street (10k/night, if you’re interested) and a smattering of small pubs (still, 6k/night). We decided that we would strip the film down, sacrifice production design altogether and shoot in an empty warehouse (relying on the audience’s suspension of disbelief to look past the absence of the titular “bar”). Only after swallowing this bullet did we allow ourselves to discover the perfect location (and the most amazing group of artists) at OBJX Studio.

  • Write a story that you don’t have all the tools to bring to life. A project with spaces that need to be filled by people whose existence you don’t yet know of. Writing a musical-comedy as someone who doesn’t write songs and doesn’t perform stand-up guaranteed that in addition to working with Jan, Aaron, and Sheldon, I would I have to find and meet new people. Enter The Bankes Brothers and Beau Dixon. (To name only a couple.)

These last points tie together three of my greatest loves; mindfulness, negotiation, and filmmaking (or storytelling). 

To be quite honest, most of the location scouting process felt completely gruelling for me. It was as if the project was perpetually on the verge of collapse.

Looking back, this was an opportunity in the struggle; I was in a position where I had to ask for favours. 

There really is no greater gift. No stronger motivation to move out into the world and form new relationships than there’s a story I have to tell, and I need your help.

Crucially, asking for favours or making deals are negotiating processes. It is often thought that negotiation is about finding compromise. to the contrary, a key takeaway from the Harvard Negotiation Project is that truly wise and thoughtful negotiation is about finding a win-win. All parties should come out ahead of where they were before rather than simply conceding to a tolerable sacrifice. Both should win not only in terms of the outcome itself, but in the sense of winning the privilege of an interaction you wouldn’t have had otherwise. 

This involves being seriously aware of the present moment and of the moving world around you simultaneously. Not continuously ruminating on “this better go well, the whole movie is on the line,” but genuinely being grateful for having cause to meet new people, and to poke around and see if your paths could be aligned.

At the end of the day, even a thorough and genuine implementation of these ideas only goes so far unless you meet people with a similar mindset. The art of conversation and building relationships can’t be reduced to bullet points. This piece is at best a crude anecdotal map (hopefully not completely devoid of nuance or insight). It really comes down to mutual openness, which just might lead to a meaningful encounter with another beautiful human, with whom you can both share the gift of each others’ time.

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Reflections from Guadeloupe

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Tough Crowd