sparked by connection.
- courtneyzano
- Oct 16, 2025
- 4 min read
I am sitting on my parents’ outdoor cushioned rocking chair, feet propped up on the rim of their gas fire-pit. A blanket covers my lap as the air around me grows crisp with the sunset. The low hum of cicadas is starting to rise. The glow of my laptop screen reflects back in my glasses.
Behind them, my eyes are closed while my coach’s voice, Megan, leads me and four other women through a meditation over my headphones.
When it is finished, I blink open my eyes just as a bat swoops low through a tree.
She opens up the space for reflections, for anything that stood out or came up during the meditation.
I unmute and share the words that stood out to me were “sparked” and “connection.” This, I noted, is interesting because I’ve been trying to find more intentional ways to build community and I like the feeling “spark” evokes in my body as a clue to what I’m genuinely lit up about.
Sparked by connection.
Megan, a Human Design coach, laughs and says that the September energy forecast for Reflectors (my Human Design energy type) that she just posted on her Instagram earlier that day is eerily close to exactly what I just shared.
Reflector: A nourishing conversation that sparks your entire being.
“I mean, of course,” I say to the group.
And the universe freaking delivered.
I meet up with my middle school bestie’s mom at the local diner in my hometown. This woman, my best friend’s mom, is one of my own best friends, too. She is a model of following your heart, taking risks, carving your own path. She is someone that, even when I was a middle schooler, saw me. Like, truly, deeply saw my heart, even as I was a confused and lost girl. In her presence, my entire body is electric with happiness, ideas I want to share, questions I want to ask her. It all bubbles out of me as I grip the small coffee mug in my hands.
We talk about life, about tragedy, about dreams, about passion, about partnership. We talk about creative ideas and how they’re floating around us at all times. We talk about our flightiness, our urge to explore new places and inability to stay still for too long. We talk about nomadic lifestyles and seeking personal expansion.
Time flies.
My whole being is sparked.
A friend texts me randomly that she was thinking about me and wanted to tell me that I’m incredible. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.
A coworker sends me a video on Instagram that she says reminded her of me. It is a dog with a butterfly on his nose. The caption says, “It’s so brave to be soft and gentle in a world that could’ve hardened you.”
We spark other people by being brave enough to be ourselves and in return, we get to experience deeper connections.
A writing friend that I met in person at a recent Colorado retreat texts me asking if I’d have time to chat before a surgery she’s having. “I could use some cheerleading or validation from a safe person,” she writes.
When we meet, she talks about how frustrating it is not to be taken seriously for what society considers “minor” health issues. I listen deeply, fully feeling her emotions. It’s what my memoir is about, after all. It’s what I’ve spent my life living.
I look in her eyes as she’s speaking and see a world of pain she’s been living in. I am filled with gratitude that she felt safe enough to share this with me, to trust me enough to hold it.
Our conversation is healing in more ways than one.
On family vacation, my brother-in-law and I find ourselves standing on a dock together, watching his daughter swinging around on the playground. He has heard me mention that I write 300 words a day.
He asks me questions about my memoir, about my vision for it, about the publishing process, about the timeline, about my fears and hopes. It is one of the most curious and genuine conversations I’ve had about my memoir.
I am buzzing.
I am nervous before hopping on with my friend, Faith, to have the first-ever conversation for my new Ordinary Lives podcast.
I am at ease with her. Our conversations are easy and I am genuinely looking forward to chatting with her. But I am nervous about this new endeavor, about this new idea of mine. I am spiraling about if anyone will even listen, if people will get it, if anyone will care.
I am overthinking if it’s the right thing for me to do.
Once we wrap up our conversation, I see the automated email from Zoom in my inbox.
Our recording was exactly 44:44.
Adam and I drive to my childhood bestie’s new home in western New Jersey. I haven’t seen her in a few months and my brain can’t wrap itself around the fact that the little girls who met at five years old are now fully grown and home-owners.
Being shown around her house, perfectly decorated and warm, feels surreal and natural all at once.
Sitting at her kitchen table, talking about the past and the future while listening to our boys laughing and playing videogames together in the other room, feels like something we’ve been doing for our entire lives.
In some ways, it has.
When we look at the clock and four hours have passed, I can’t be that surprised.
September felt like a warm hug of connecting with people.
Conversations are nourishing. Connecting with other humans matters so much. It’s why I launched Ordinary Lives last week and am so excited about that series.
Our lives are so busy. We don’t always remember to stop, slow down, and intentionally spend time with someone. But it’s always worth it.
Let yourself be sparked by connection.
In some ways, it’s all that really matters.
xx
Court
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