My writing partner, Nicki, and I became obsessed with a

“My writing partner, Nicki, and I became obsessed with a monologist who performs unscripted shows equipped with nothing more than scribbled bullet points and a glass of water. We wrote him a fan letter and found ourselves sharing lunch and eventually a friendship.” — in these simple, human words, Emma McLaughlin reveals a truth far greater than a tale of admiration. It is a reflection on the mystery of connection, on how admiration, curiosity, and courage can give birth to friendship. Beneath her recollection lies the ancient rhythm of human encounter — how hearts, once moved by the same fire of passion or inspiration, find one another and create something new: companionship born of shared wonder.

McLaughlin’s story begins in the realm of art, yet it ends in the realm of the soul. She and her partner, Nicki, are captivated not merely by a performer, but by a spirit of authenticity — a man who stands before an audience with nothing but his thoughts and a glass of water, daring to be seen in all his vulnerability. Such courage draws them, as truth always draws those who create. They do not worship him as a distant idol; they reach out, human to human, in gratitude and kinship. And in that reaching, the distance between artist and admirer dissolves. From a letter — humble, sincere, and brave — grows a friendship. Thus, McLaughlin’s words remind us that connection begins when admiration transforms into sincerity, when one dares to speak to another heart without pretense.

The ancients knew this well. In the dialogues of Plato, friendship often begins in the spark of admiration — the philosopher who sees beauty in another’s thought, the artist who feels resonance in another’s work. From that spark arises philia, the noble love of equals, where souls meet not for gain, but for shared pursuit of truth and beauty. When McLaughlin and Nicki reached out to the monologist, they were, perhaps unknowingly, following this timeless path. They admired his courage, his mastery of voice and thought; yet in recognizing those qualities, they also recognized them within themselves. The act of writing a fan letter was not flattery, but kinship calling out to kinship — the soul acknowledging another who walks the same road.

Consider also the story of Rainer Maria Rilke and Franz Xaver Kappus, the young poet who wrote to Rilke seeking guidance. What began as a letter — trembling, uncertain — became the immortal correspondence known as Letters to a Young Poet. Rilke’s wisdom nurtured Kappus, yet through their exchange, the teacher, too, was enriched. Each found in the other a mirror of purpose. Such is the sacred power of sincere admiration — it bridges distance, transforming reverence into mutual respect, and eventually into friendship. McLaughlin’s tale, though modern, follows this same eternal thread.

In her description of the monologist — performing with “scribbled bullet points and a glass of water” — there is also a symbol: the courage of simplicity. This performer stands unguarded, unpolished, human. And perhaps that is what drew McLaughlin and Nicki most — the reminder that art is not perfection, but presence. Their friendship was born not from glamour or fame, but from the humble recognition of shared humanity. In that moment of genuine contact, the walls of status, title, and audience fall away, and what remains is what the ancients called koinonia — the fellowship of souls united by purpose and truth.

The wisdom here is clear: do not let awe become distance. When something or someone moves your heart, reach out. Speak. Express gratitude. For admiration kept silent fades into longing, but admiration expressed becomes a bridge. Write the letter. Offer the word of thanks. You never know when that act of honesty may lead to friendship, collaboration, or a bond that transforms your life. The great friendships of the world — of thinkers, artists, explorers — have often begun with a single word of courage from one to another.

Let this be the lesson for all who seek connection in a divided world: approach others with sincerity, humility, and curiosity, not as fans or rivals, but as fellow travelers. Honor the art that moves you by joining it — by becoming part of its echo in the heart of another. For friendship, as McLaughlin’s story shows, often begins with admiration but endures through mutual respect.

Thus, remember this: every friendship begins with a spark of recognition, a moment when one soul says to another, “I see what you are doing — and it has touched me.” Whether through a letter, a word, or a gesture, dare to cross that invisible line. For in doing so, you may find what McLaughlin found — that admiration, when shared openly, transforms not into distance, but into belonging, and that in the simple act of reaching out, one may discover the most timeless art of all: the art of friendship itself.