Last evening, on the beach beside a lake, a pretty young girl had a falling out with her family. She was in tears. She needed to get away, and I had the privilege of taking her home... back into the city.

The first twenty minutes of the drive were virtually silent. She asked if she could smoke in the car, I told her I’d prefer it if she didn’t. More silence. Her phone lights up. Texting. More silence. A sniffle here and there (note to self: carry a handkerchief—or at least tissues). More texting. More sniffling. More silence. Her phone was down to 19%, so I offered her my charger.

Finally, I decided to break the silence. What do I talk about? Labor Day plans? No, she’s leaving the lakeside in the middle of the night. It’s very likely her plans for the long weekend are wrecked.

On a long drive, with no tissues, it’s clearly time to change her mood.

So, I asked if she at least got a good punch in before she left. She laughed.

We talked for a little bit about the argument. About families. About how I’m not terribly close to one side of my family either. About distance. About the psychology behind what we feel. About happiness.

We talked about books. She asked what I was reading, and I told her I had thirty pages left in Doctor Sleep. She hadn’t heard of it. I asked if she was familiar with Stephen King, to which she said she was. I told her it was the story of the boy from The Shining grown up.

I mentioned the other books I’ve read this year, about marketing and writing and pop psychology and self help. I told her about Radical Honesty and the author’s take on lies we tell ourselves and others. The chicken shit, the horse shit, the elephant shit. More laughter. I told her about Awareness, which more-or-less delivers the same message, without the references to shit.

She loved it. She told me how she loves working on improving herself. She reads when she can, but she doesn’t make time to read as much as she’d like. She enjoys writing and watching Ted Talks on the YouTube.

So, we talked a lot about people and change and being ready for anything. At some point, I mentioned my dog. Her eyes lit up and she asked me about Cordelia Jane. She shared some stories of her own Winifred Bean. She loved talking to another weirdo who gives his dog a middle name—apparently we’re rare.

We talked more about books. She told me about her favorite, Tuck Everlasting. I asked if she’d seen the movie, to which she said the book is much better. I assured her I’d add it to my reading list.

It was a beautiful connection, one that inspired me. There are girls out there I can relate to. There are girls out there I have something in common with.

As we approached the freeway exit, she picked up her phone for the first time in nearly an hour. No more tears. Virtually no sniffles. She asked for an ETA, so she could text ahead and make sure she could get in.

We conversed some more. About what, I don’t recall... then she helped navigate through the neighborhoods of the city.

When we pulled into her drive, she thanked me and said she appreciated me. We exchanged information and a fist bump. And she was gone.

Will I see her again? It’s not likely. But she gave me a bit of the drive I’ve been lacking lately.

And when I need a little push, I’ll think of that girl. And remember to savor the adventure. And I’ll meet that next girl. And we’ll see what happens.

Today’s read reinforced last night’s synchronicity. After all, “what would you do if you were not afraid?”

When you move beyond the fear, you feel free.