Friendship is the only real time machine. Apart from the few friends we’re fortunate to have nearby—those we see regularly, those woven into the fabric of our daily lives—there are others. These are comet-like friends, drifting in and out of our orbit, reappearing after long silences, glowing not with fire but with memory, trust, and meaning.

Take Halley’s Comet, for example. Visible from Earth every 75–79 years, it always returns—predictable, distant, yet awe-inspiring. Some friendships are just like that. You may not speak for months, even years, but when you do, time warped. You pick up exactly where you left off, as if no years have passed, as if no silence stood between you. These connections don’t require constant tending, but they reward you richly when they reappear.

Yesterday, I had such an experience. I reconnected with Paul, an old friend from the UK. Decades have shaped our lives since we first met, and yet the conversation felt effortless, profound, and comforting. This friendship has a comet-like rhythm—rare, yet bright when it returns. Unlike the medieval fear of comets as omens of doom, this one brings gifts: hope, admiration, vulnerability, and wisdom.

Brené Brown was right when she said, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity.” In fact, in her book Daring Greatly, she makes a powerful point: “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.” When we dare to be open with a friend—to share not just what’s going well, but what’s aching inside—we invite true connection. And in that space, we are seen and loved.

Friendship asks something rare in today’s hustle culture: presence. In a world obsessed with productivity, where we invest in crypto, stocks, and career moves hoping for some spectacular return, we often forget that the most meaningful ROI comes from investing in people. And this kind of investment doesn’t depreciate—it compounds. It pays in connection, in the exchange of ideas, in emotional safety, in challenge and support. It gives us a mirror, a compass, and a shoulder.

The Bible reminds us: “A true friend shows love at all times and is a brother who is born for times of distress.” — Proverbs 17:17, NWT. And again: “Two are better than one… for if one of them falls, the other can help his partner up.” — Ecclesiastes 4:9–10. These verses echo something ancient Stoics also valued. Seneca once wrote: “There is no enjoying the possession of anything valuable unless one has someone to share it with.”

Marcus Aurelius, too, hinted at the richness of human connection in his Meditations: “Don’t waste the rest of your time here worrying about other people—unless it affects the common good. It will keep you from doing anything useful. You’ll be too preoccupied with what so-and-so is doing, and why, and what they’re saying, and what they’re thinking…” Perhaps he was warning us not to neglect real connections by becoming lost in shallow noise, don’t you think?

In truth, people need us as much as we need them. We forget this sometimes—too busy, too distracted, too tired. But the investment in friendship is never wasted. It’s a light in the tunnel, a rope in the storm, a memory made flesh.

So if you have a comet-friend out there—someone who once meant the world and still might—send them a message. Let them know you’re here. The next time they return, they may bring the gifts you didn’t even know you were waiting for.