I have never held a dinner party with 10 of my closest friends.
I don’t have 10 people to invite.
I don’t have friends I see every weekend, I don’t even have friends I see every month.
A lot of people are surprised by this.
I’m a person who makes money with words – first as a journalist, then as an advisor in a political office and now as a communications consultant.
Talking to people is what I do.
I have interviewed government ministers, CEOs, scientists, artists, victims of crime, mums, dads, sons, daughters… you get the point.
I have never really met someone I couldn’t speak to. So, why don’t I have many friends?
I think it’s because I am a one-on-one kind of person.
While I don’t have people I can invite over for a dinner party, I can easily think of 10 people I’ve searingly connected with as individuals throughout my 28 years of life.
When I see these people, often with months or even years in between, lost ground is covered in minutes.
I met one of these people in Taiwan.
We would never have been put next to each other at a dinner party by friends who thought we had a lot in common. We don’t share any hobbies, our lives have been very different yet somehow we understand each other at a level that runs far deeper than hobbies, jobs and general conversation.
When we said goodbye in the middle of a Taipei street in the middle of the night beside a waiting taxi I had no idea when I would see her again.
I still don’t.
But when I do, I know that months and years will become minutes.