No, the next line isn’t “walk into a bar!” although creating such a joke might be an interesting challenge. What, then, is the relationship between these three? They each represent the kinds of relationships sociologists call “weak ties.” That is, the kind of casual relationships that don’t generally lead to strong emotional bonds, although they tend to be pleasant.
Despite the generally negative connotation associated with the word “weak,” the benefits of these relationships can be powerful, indeed. Studies have confirmed that our daily “micro-interactions” with familiar faces and even friendly encounters with strangers, strengthen our sense of community and belonging and enhance our happiness. I haven’t read these studies, but I feel sure that they also found that such interactions release oxytocin into the bloodstream, thereby reducing stress and enhancing trust and empathy.
It’s nice to have science confirm something we already know from experience, even though we may not have thought consciously about it. Who among us has not experienced a sudden lift of spirits after a brief exchange of pleasantries with the waitress at a local coffee shop, or walked with a lighter step after encountering a stranger who actually gave a friendly nod and a “hello” on your stroll through a park?
Perhaps these encounters are important because that “hello” is more than a greeting. It’s a way of saying, “I see you. I recognize our shared humanity. We are the same.” And when the clerk checking out our groceries complains of a sore back from standing too long, we commiserate. We may recommend our favorite muscle rub. In essence, we are saying to her, “We share similar experiences. We, too, are the same.”
In addition to having science confirm something we know intuitively, I find it comforting to contemplate the way science upholds teachings and admonitions which have been part of religious traditions for centuries. For example, when we are told to love our neighbor, to show compassion to the stranger, or to help those in need, science has shown that we, ourselves, benefit both physically and emotionally. The benefits to society which come about when people heed such teachings are now recognized as well. Imagine what spiritual benefits accrue to those who follow such teachings!
One such admonition found in Baha’i scripture is this: “Do not be content with showing friendship in words alone; let your heart burn with loving-kindness for all who may cross your path.” I’ve meditated often on this verse – probably because I find it difficult to visualize my actions were I to succeed in following this teaching. As an introvert, my first inclination has never been to be the first to come forward to meet new people. I’m much more comfortable staying home “with my nose in a book,” as my mother used to say. I don’t believe that God asks the impossible of us, but I do think he asks us to venture out of our comfort zones every now and then. And so, I will continue to struggle to put this teaching into practice.
Meanwhile, the best role model I know lives right here in our own house: Maisie, our spoiled but lovable shih-tzu. Not only is she lovable, but she is also loving. If you’re a human, she automatically loves you (and most other dogs, as well; cats are dealt with on an individual basis, while squirrels and chipmunks, alas, don’t make the cut). It is amazing and heartwarming to see Maisie’s reaction to people. If we’re going for a walk and someone approaches from the opposite direction, her tail begins to wag, she emits joyful squeaks and makes a beeline for that person. Her reaction is even more intense when she’s at home looking out the storm door. The minute someone pulls into the driveway, she adds a few yips to those joyful squeaks, she jumps and paws at the door, then runs to get me or my husband as if to say, “Come see what wonderful thing has happened! Another human has come to see us!” She doesn’t care if it’s the mail carrier, the cleaning lady, or a salesman. She doesn’t care about their race or gender. Their political affiliations mean nothing to her, nor do their jobs, where they live, or what religion they profess. She just loves them.
So, in my day-to-day “weak tie” interactions, I guess I’ll strive to be more like my dog! I won’t jump at the door or whine, but I will try to see through her eyes – eyes that see only the good in others.
Nancy Flood-Golembeck is a retired teacher and longtime member of the Baha’i faith. In addition to serving on the local Baha’i governing body, she is currently writing a memoir.
This article appears in August 6-12, 2026.
