I'm the person friends come to when they want to find the

Meghan Markle once spoke these words with disarming simplicity: “I’m the person friends come to when they want to find the perfect restaurant or boutique hotel on the outskirts of Paris. As opposed to scouring the Internet for a travel guide, wouldn’t you rather ask the people who are really cool who go there? That’s what I do.” At first, this may seem no more than a lighthearted comment about travel and taste. Yet within it lies an ancient truth: that the wisdom of the living voice is greater than the cold record of the written page, and that true guidance flows not from algorithms or maps, but from human trust, friendship, and the communion of experience.

The ancients revered the counsel of companions above all. When a traveler sought to cross mountains or seas, he did not consult an impersonal ledger, but the lips of those who had walked the path before him. Homer tells us how Odysseus was counseled by kings and shepherds alike, each sharing the knowledge of their land, their customs, their dangers. This is the essence of Markle’s teaching: that wisdom is not only found in guides and books, but in the voices of those whose footsteps have already pressed the earth where you long to go.

Her words also speak to the value of trust in community. To scour the Internet is to sift through countless voices, many hollow, many false. But to turn to a friend, to one you know lives with taste, care, and discernment—that is to drink from a pure stream. This is why Markle places emphasis on “the people who are really cool who go there.” She reminds us that in matters of the heart—whether in travel, in art, or in life—it is not the many we need, but the trustworthy few.

History provides us with echoes of this wisdom. Consider the young Alexander the Great, who was tutored by Aristotle. Alexander could have scoured scrolls and tomes for knowledge, but it was the living voice of his mentor that gave him direction, that shaped his vision of the world. Just as Alexander leaned on Aristotle, so too do we lean on trusted friends, not because they have catalogued all knowledge, but because they have distilled it through their living, breathing journeys.

Markle’s quote also reminds us of the joy of sharing discovery. To know a secret place on the outskirts of Paris, and to offer it to a friend, is more than information—it is intimacy. It is to say, “Here is a place I have loved; I trust you with it.” The ancients called this the gift of hospitality, where knowledge of food, shelter, and safe passage was shared generously, binding people together across lands and generations. To withhold such treasures was selfish; to share them was noble.

The lesson here is profound: seek guidance from the wise, and be a guide yourself. Do not always lean on the faceless mass of the Internet for answers. Instead, build a circle of trusted voices, and in turn, let your own experiences become a lantern for others. For wisdom is not meant to be hoarded; it is meant to be given, one friend to another, one traveler to the next.

Practically, this means cultivating relationships with those whose lives inspire you, whose journeys hold truth. When you travel, when you eat, when you discover something beautiful, do not lock it away in your heart. Share it. Offer it. Become for others what Markle became for her friends: the one they seek not only for knowledge, but for the warmth of wisdom carried by a human hand.

Thus, the quote blossoms into a teaching that spans ages: that the best guides are not lifeless books nor shifting screens, but living souls who walk beside us. Trust them. Cherish them. And in your turn, become such a guide for others, so that when they stand at the crossroads of choice, they will remember your voice above the clamor and say: “I know whom to ask.”