how to talk to anyone

I was at a coffee shop the other day, waiting on my order. And I looked around and realized that every single person in the place was on their phone. Every one of them, the guy at the table by the window, the two girls sitting across from each other, the dude in line behind me, and even the barista were either on their phone or had their AirPods in. Nobody was looking at each other. Nobody was present in the room that they were physically standing in. And weirdly enough, the coffee shop was completely silent.

And it hit me that this is just how we exist now. We occupy the same spaces as other people, but we aren't really there. We're somewhere else entirely, living in the little screen in our hands while the real world happens around us. And I think that this is why so many of us have lost our social skills. We don't practice them anymore because we don't need to. Every moment of boredom or discomfort that used to force us to engage with the people around us now gets filled with scrolling. Standing in line, phone. Waiting for a friend, phone. Sitting in a waiting room, phone. We've eliminated every single opportunity to interact with strangers. And then we wonder why talking to strangers feels so terrifying.

My whole life, up until college, I'd always had a fear of heights. But one day, my friends wanted to go to a theme park, and I didn't want to be the guy sitting on the bench holding everyone's bags like a grandma. So, I got on a roller coaster. And it was the first big roller coaster that I'd ever been on. And I have to say, the first one was terrible. My hands were extremely sweaty in line. And I genuinely thought about bailing at least three or four times, but I did it. And then, weirdly enough, I wanted to go again. And the second time was still bad, but a little less bad. And the third time was a little less bad than that. And by the end of the day, my fear of heights wasn't cured. It didn't just disappear, but it got significantly better. The physical reaction calmed down. The anxiety before the ride was shorter, and I could actually enjoy it. It's still to this day not 100% gone. And I still get uneasy going up to the top of a roller coaster, but my fear got significantly better because I forced myself to do the thing that scared me over and over again until my brain stopped treating it like a death sentence.

And a lot of us have social anxiety, but talking to people works the exact same way. The reason it feels so hard is because we don't do it enough anymore. Our brains treat it like a threat because it's unfamiliar. And the less we do it, the more unfamiliar it becomes. But if you start putting yourself in more social situations, even small ones, that anxiety starts to fade. The first conversation with a stranger might feel like that first roller coaster did for me, but the 20th, you won't even think about it. The problem is, most of us aren't even getting on that ride to begin with.

I've been living in my city for about 3 years now, and my girlfriend and I were talking the other night about how we haven't made a single new friend since we moved here. Sure, we've met people. We've had service-level conversations, but we haven't actually connected with anyone. We go to the gym dozens of times per month and never said anything to people beyond pleasantries. We would go out to eat and wouldn't talk to anyone around us. We would attend events and didn't get people's names. And when we did, we never followed up, and honestly, I would probably forget it. We were doing all the things that put us in proximity to other humans, but we weren't actually engaging with any of them. And then I had the audacity to bring up about how I haven't been able to make any new friends. When I really sat with that, I realized that the issue isn't that people are unfriendly or that making friends is impossible. The issue is that we've forgotten how to talk to each other.

When was the last time that you went out of your way to have a longer than 5-second conversation with someone that you didn't already know? Not a "how's your day" while you're both clearly in a rush, but an actual conversation where you slowed down and genuinely talked to someone. For most of us, it's been way too long. That realization reminded me of a book that I read back in college called *How to Talk to Anyone* by Leo Loundis. I probably butchered that name. So, Leo, if you're watching this, I apologize, but it's one of those books that I remember thinking had some really practical ideas, but I never actually put any of them into practice because I was 20, and that is lame. But now, sitting here with not many local friends and a growing awareness that I'm the one who needs to change, it felt like the right time to revisit it. And honestly, going back through it as an adult hit different. The stuff in this book is practical in a way that most social skills advice isn't. And today, I want to walk you through the things from it that have actually changed the way I interact with other people because the video is called "How to Talk to Anyone." And I think by the end of it, you might actually believe that you can.

My name is Solace, and I make videos about personal growth and navigating the chaos of modern life without all the toxic or AI-generated nonsense that the rest of the space seems to love. If you get value from this conversation, consider subscribing and checking out the Discord in the description. And if you want to read this book, you can find a link to it in my bookshop, which is also in the description. Now, let's get into it.

The first thing that Loundis talks about in the book, and the thing that stuck with me the most, is that communication starts before you even open your mouth. The way you carry yourself, the way you enter a room, the way you look at someone when they're talking to you—all of this sends signals that people pick up on immediately, often without even realizing it. And most of us are sending the wrong signals without knowing. She has this concept called the "flooding smile." And it's one of those things that sounds so small, but genuinely changes how people perceive you. When most people see someone they know or someone they want to talk to, they flash this little, awkward, minivan-driving, soccer mom automatic smile. You know, the one that you give to someone when you walk past them in the grocery store and don't want to be awkward. It's instant and it's polite, but it means almost nothing. It's the social equivalent of a nod. The person on the receiving end registers it as a formality because that's exactly what it is. You didn't smile because you were happy to see them. You smiled because that's what you do when you make eye contact with someone.

The flooding smile is different. Instead of immediately flashing that quick grin, you pause for a second when you see someone. You look at their face, and then you let a warm, genuine smile slowly spread across yours. It takes maybe one extra second, but the effect is completely different. That small delay tells the other person that your smile is a reaction to them specifically, that you saw them, registered who they are, and then felt happy enough to smile. It makes people feel important, and it costs you literally nothing. I've been trying to do this more often, and I feel like there's a notable difference in how people respond. They light up more and they're more likely to say something. It's such a tiny adjustment, but it changes the entire energy of the first two seconds of an interaction.

And that leads into another thing that she talks about, which is what she calls the "big baby pivot." Think about how a baby reacts when they see someone they like. They don't casually glance over with their arms crossed and half their body turned away. They turn their entire body toward that person, light up, and give them their complete attention. That's what babies naturally do, and it's incredibly warm and disarming. Adults do the exact opposite. We half turn. We keep one foot pointed towards the door. We look out over our shoulder instead of facing someone directly. We check our phones mid-conversation and then wonder why the other person seems disengaged. When someone's talking to you and you turn your full body toward them, square your shoulders, make eye contact, and give them your undivided attention, it communicates something that words can't. It says, "You matter to me right now." And in a world where everyone is half-present and distracted, that kind of full attention is so rare that it stands out immediately. People will feel it even if they can't articulate what's different about you versus talking to someone else. They'll just know that it felt good. And that's going to be the core focal point of this video. You need to show that you're interested in other people. If you're going to socialize, do it with full commitment. Don't just half-ass it and hope for the best. There's no point in even doing that, and you're never going to connect with anyone. And these two things alone, the flooding smile and the full body pivot, have already changed the way that my personal small interactions go. I'm able to treat people like a person instead of a transaction. Eye contact, full attention, and a real smile. It's not that complicated.

The author of the book also talks about posture in a way that I find interesting. She calls it "hang by your teeth," which is a visualization where you can imagine an invisible wire attached to your jaw pulling you up towards the ceiling. The idea is that when you imagine this, your posture naturally straightens. Your head lifts, your shoulders go back, and you carry yourself with a quiet confidence that people respond to. People make snap judgments about your confidence before you say a single word. And something as small as how you hold yourself can make the difference between someone wanting to engage with you and someone deciding to look the other way or ignore you.

But Lis goes way deeper than just body language and first impressions in this book. The part of the book that I think is most useful for people who struggle with conversation is her idea of being a "word detective." This is the concept that completely reframed how I think about talking to people. The idea is simple. When someone's talking to you, they are constantly dropping little clues about their interests, their passions, and the things that they care about. Most of us miss these entirely because we aren't really listening. We hear the words, sure, but we don't process them. We're too busy thinking about what we're going to say next or worrying about whether we look awkward or rehearsing some clever response in our head. But if you actually listen for these clues and then follow up on them, you can take any conversation from surface-level to meaningful in about 30 seconds.

Here's what I mean. If you ask someone what they do and they say, "I'm in marketing. But honestly, I've been spending most of my free time lately trying to learn how to surf." Most people will latch on to the marketing thing because it's the obvious topic. But the clue is in the second half. That's what they actually want to talk about. That's the thing that lights them up. If you say, "Oh, that's cool. How long have you been surfing?" instead of, "Oh, nice. What kind of marketing do you do?" You just unlocked a version of that person that most people never see. And when someone gets to talk about the thing they love, they associate that feeling of excitement with you. You become the person who let them talk about the thing that they actually care about. And that's how you stand out in someone's memory.

This works in any conversation. If someone says, "Yeah, it's been a crazy week. I just got back from visiting my sister in Colorado." The clue isn't that they had a crazy week. The clue is Colorado and the sister. Those are the doors that you can walk through. "Oh, nice. Does she live out there? Do you get to visit often?" Suddenly, you're having a real conversation about family and travel instead of a dead-end exchange about someone's busy schedule. The clues are always there. You just have to train yourself to listen for them instead of using the time while they're talking to think about what you're going to say next. And I'll be honest, this was probably the hardest adjustment for me. I've spent most of my life so focused on not being awkward in conversations that I was barely processing what the other person was saying. I was just waiting for my turn to talk or looking for the next safe topic to bring up so there wouldn't be an awkward silence. But when I actually started listening, like really listening, I realized that people hand you the keys to a great conversation constantly. You just have to take them.

Loundis calls this "keeping the swiveling spotlight on the other person." The idea is that most people walk into a conversation with the spotlight on themselves. They're thinking about how they're being perceived, what they should say, how they look, whether the other person likes them. But if you take that spotlight and point it entirely at the other person, if you make them the focus and give them the space to talk about themselves, something interesting happens. They walk away from the conversation feeling great about it. And they attribute that feeling to you. You didn't have to be funny or charming or have the perfect story. You just had to be interested.

And I know some people are going to say, "That's great, but what do I actually say when I walk up to someone?" Well, the book covers this, too. She has this concept that she calls "never the naked city" and "never the naked job." The idea that when you talk to someone and ask a basic question like "Where are you from?" or "What do you do?" most people give a bare, one-word answer: "Ohio," "Marketing." And then the conversation hits a wall because there's nothing for the other person to grab on to. It's a dead end, and now someone has to think of a whole new topic to keep things going. Instead, she says you should always wrap your answer in something that gives the other person a hook, something they can follow up on. So, if someone asks you where you're from, instead of saying "Ohio," you might say, "I'm from a small town in Ohio, but I just moved here about three years ago because my girlfriend and I wanted to try living somewhere with actual stuff to do." Now, the other person has like four things they could respond to: the small town, the move, the girlfriend, the city. You've turned a dead-end answer into an open door, and it takes almost zero additional effort. You're just adding a sentence of context. Same thing with the job question. If someone asks what you do, and you say, "I'm a video editor." That's a naked job. There's nowhere for the conversation to go unless the other person happens to know something about video editing. But if you say, "I'm a freelance video editor. I actually just quit my full-time job a little while ago to do it on my own. So, it's been a wild ride." Now, there's a story there. There's something for the other person to latch on to. They might ask about the freelance life or about what made you quit or about what you did before or what type of videos you edit. You've given them options, and the options keep the conversations alive.

But this works the other way, too. When someone gives you a naked answer, you can be the one who digs deeper. If someone says, "I'm from Ohio." Instead of saying, "Oh, cool," and watching the conversation die, ask them what part or what made them leave or why do they live here now? Do they miss it? Don't just accept the surface. Go one level deeper. And you'd be surprised how quickly people open up when you show genuine interest in what they're saying. Most people give short answers because they assume the other person doesn't actually care. When you prove them wrong by following up, it changes the whole dynamic.

Another thing from the book that I've been practicing is what Loundis calls "paring." It sounds weird, but it's incredibly effective. I'm not going to lie, I don't like all the terms. It seems very self-help guru-y, but I promise the stuff she actually says in this book makes a lot of sense. The concept of paring is when someone says something, you repeat the last few words back to them as a question. Let's give an example. If someone says, "Yeah, I've been really into rock climbing lately." You say, "Rock climbing?" and they keep going. They elaborate. They tell you more. They go deeper into the topic. You didn't have to think of a clever follow-up question. You didn't have to steer the conversation anywhere. You just echoed what they said and gave them permission to keep talking. It feels almost too simple to work, but I've been doing it. And it's kind of wild how much people will share when you just give them a small nudge like that. It keeps the conversations flowing without you having to carry it. And it gives you more of a chance to find something to latch on to to continue the conversation. And the other person feels heard because you're reflecting their words back to them. Imagine someone says, "Yeah, I just got into woodworking." And you go, "Woodworking?" They're probably going to talk for like five straight minutes about what table they were building. And I, I really don't know anything about woodworking, but I think you get the point. And this could happen just because you repeat one word back to them. That's how low the bar is for standing out in a conversation in a world where nobody pays attention. People are so used to being half-listened to that even the smallest sign that you're paying attention makes a massive impression.

Lis also talks about what she calls "prosaic with passion." The idea is that when someone asks you a mundane question like "How are you?" "How's your weekend going?" most people give a flat, boring answer: "Good." "Not bad." And then the conversation goes nowhere because you've given it nowhere to go. But if you respond with even a little bit of energy and specificity, like, "Actually, really good. I just found this awesome taco place near my apartment and I've been going back like three times per week." You've just turned a throwaway question into the start of an actual conversation. You've given the other person something to work with, and you've shown that you're someone who actually has things going on in their life. It's a small shift, but it makes you instantly more interesting to talk to.

Now, all of this stuff is great in theory, but it means nothing if you aren't in situations where you can actually use it. And this is the part that I think connects everything together. You could read every communication book on the planet. You can memorize every technique. You can watch a hundred videos about how to talk to people. But if you're sitting in your apartment with your phone in your hand, none of it matters. You need to be physically present in environments where interaction is possible, and not just possible, but likely. This is where my girlfriend and I sometimes go wrong when it comes to trying to make new friends. We were going to places, but we were going to them wrong. We went to restaurants and sat in our own bubbles in the corner. We went to events and talked to each other. We were physically in social spaces but mentally closed off to any possibility of socializing.

If you want to meet people at a coffee shop, sit at the community table, not in the corner facing the wall. If you want to talk to someone at the gym, take your headphones out in between sets and actually look around. Don't order a coffee to go and say you tried, or sit in the back row of a class and leave before anyone can talk to you and say you tried. You need to put yourself in a position where connection is possible, and then you need to actually be open to it. And you need to go to places that you actually care about. If you don't like drinking and you go to the bar because you think it's the best spot to meet people, I'm sorry, but you're not going to connect with anyone, and you're not going to have a good time, and the people around you are going to be able to tell that you're not having a good time. So, seek out things that you're actually interested in and go to places that represent those things. Nobody's going to think you're weird for showing up somewhere alone because that's the entire point. You're going to a place for something you're passionate about, and everyone else there is passionate about the same thing. It doesn't matter how they arrived or who they arrived with. That's your common ground right there. And it makes starting a conversation so much easier because the hardest part, finding something to talk about, is already taken care of.

Now, on the other side of this, the book also talks about a technique called "eavesdrop in." This one felt a little bold to me at first, but the more that I thought about it, the more it made sense. The idea is that when you're in a social environment and you overhear a nearby conversation about something you know about or are interested in, you can naturally join in. Not in a creepy, lurking way, but in a casual, friendly way. If two people next to you at the bar are talking about a show you've been watching, there's nothing wrong with saying, "Sorry, I couldn't help it over here, but are you guys talking about that new season?" Most people are receptive to this because you've shown that you share an interest with them. You've given yourself a natural way into the conversation without having to manufacture one from scratch. It takes some guts the first few times, and sometimes people just aren't going to want to talk to you, but it gets easier, like the roller coasters.

And the types of places where you can have these conversations, you need to keep showing up to them. One visit to a coffee shop or one event is not going to change your social life. You need reps. You need to go to that coffee shop regularly to become a familiar face, to build recognition with the people who work there and the regulars who also show up. So showing up once and then saying, "Well, I tried," does not count. You dipped your toe in the water and then you went back to your couch.

When I look back at every friendship I've had in my life, they all formed because I was consistently in the same place as the same people. My childhood friends were kids on my street that I saw every day or kids that I played baseball with. My college friends were people in my dorm or people in my classes. Friendship is most easily based around convenience. And the friendships didn't happen because of one great conversation. They happened because we kept bumping into each other. And eventually, those surface-level interactions deepened into something real. The nod in the hallway turned into lunch together. Lunch turned into hanging out on weekends. That's how friendships have always formed: through proximity and repetition. As adults, we don't have that built-in structure anymore. So, we need to create it ourselves. That's what showing up to the same places regularly does. It recreates the proximity that friendships need to grow. And honestly, this is where most people fail. They go to one event, have an okay time, and then never go back. Or they have a great conversation with someone, and then never follow up. The follow-up is everything. If you talk to someone and it goes well, exchange numbers, connect on Instagram, suggest getting together sometime. I know that feels bold, and I know that the voice in your head is going to say that they'll think this is weird, but they won't. People are hungry for connection right now more than ever. They're just as afraid to make the first move as you are. Being the person who actually takes that step is rare, and most people will be genuinely happy that you did.

People are naturally drawn to faces that they recognize. If you show up at the same place every week, the regulars start to notice you. You stop being a stranger and start being "the guy who's always here." And that small shift in how someone perceives you makes it exponentially easier to start a conversation. They're more open to it because you're not some random person approaching them out of nowhere. You're a familiar presence, and familiarity breeds comfort.

Now, I want to touch on one other thing that I think a lot of guys watching this need to hear. A lot of the anxiety around talking to people gets amplified by about a thousand when it comes to talking to women. And I get it. I was the same way for most of my life. I had crushes on girls in high school that I never spoke to, not once. They probably still have no idea who I am to this day. But women aren't some mythical creature that requires a secret code to communicate with. They are normal humans with normal interests who want connection just as much as we do. The reason that talking to them feels so different is because you've attached an outcome to the interaction. You're not just talking to a person. You're talking to someone you might be interested in. And the pressure of that potential outcome makes it feel like an audition.

Every single technique from this book applies to talking to women the exact same way that it applies to talking to anyone else. The flooding smile, the full body pivot, being a word detective, keeping the spotlight on them, never giving naked answers—none of this changes based on the gender or how attracted you are to the person that you're talking to. And that's kind of the whole point. If you want to get better at talking to women, get better at talking to anyone. Talk to old ladies at the store. Old people have no one to talk to. So, if you just walk up to an old lady and say, "Hey, how are you doing today?" She's probably going to talk for like an hour, and it'll give you a lot of practice. Talk to anyone and everyone because it's the same skill, the same muscle. You're just too in your head to see that right now because you've made talking to women into this separate, terrifying category when it's really not. You wouldn't rehearse what you're going to say to the cashier at the grocery store. You wouldn't stress about your body language when talking to an old man walking his dog. But the second that you find someone attractive, you suddenly forget how to be a normal person, and they can feel that. They can sense when someone is performing instead of being themselves, and it's uncomfortable for everyone involved. The techniques from this book work precisely because they aren't about performing. They're about being present, being curious, and making the other person feel like they matter. That works on everyone because everyone wants to feel like they matter.

There's one more thing from the book that I want to mention because I think it ties everything together, and it's something that the author calls "scramble therapy." Again, these names are really giving me an ick, 'cause I feel like a lot of self-help people prescribe these like weird names to things that don't really need it. But the concept is that you should regularly try something new. Get out of your comfort zone. Try a new hobby, a new activity, a new place, a new type of event. Not necessarily because you'll love it, but because every new experience gives you something new to talk about. It expands your world. It gives you stories, and it gives you a common ground with a wider range of people. If the only thing you do is go to work and then go home and play Xbox, you're going to have a very limited pool of things to talk about when you do find yourself in a conversation. But if you tried rock climbing last weekend, or you went to a food festival, or you started learning how to cook a new cuisine, suddenly you have material. You have experiences that other people can relate to or ask questions about, and you have entry points into conversations that wouldn't have existed otherwise. The other benefit of this is that it puts you in new environments where you can meet different types of people that you normally wouldn't cross paths with. If you only hang out in the same three places with the same routine, you're going to keep running into the same types of people. But if you shake it up and try a new class or a new event, you're exposing yourself to a completely different set of humans, and any one of them could become a friend.

You don't need to be naturally charismatic or outgoing to do any of this stuff. That's the whole point of the book. The author isn't writing for people who are already great at socializing. She's writing for people like me and you who want to connect with others but feel stuck because they don't know how to start. A real smile instead of a fake one. Full attention instead of half attention. Listening instead of waiting to talk. Asking about the things someone actually cares about instead of the thing that's the easiest to talk about. None of this requires you to be extroverted or confident or funny. It just requires you to pay attention to the world around you and care about the person in front of you.

If you're in the same place that I was, feeling a bit disconnected and struggling to make friends, I really do encourage you to pick up the book. Again, you can find it in my bookshop, which is linked in the description. And everything purchased there helps to support local independent bookstores. And if you want to support the channel directly, consider becoming a monthly member or just buying me a coffee using the "buy me a coffee" link in the description as well. I also have a habit-tracking and journaling app that is completely free to use with an optional one-time lifetime purchase package, which of course also helps to support the channel. And it's a good place to build discipline and track your habits, as well as your finances.

So, how is socializing with other people going for you? Do you have any other tips? Do you think I'm missing anything? Let me know in the comments. That's it for today's conversation, and we will talk again soon.