I'm from the South. We say "hey" to everybody.
When my partner and I started getting to know one another, we would be walking down a sidewalk and when I passed someone I'd say "hello." She would inquire, "Do you know them?" I would respond in dismay "No." I was raised in a place where, when you get into close proximity of another human being, you said "hello". When you were driving down a narrow street or a country road you raised two fingers off the steering wheel at the passing car.
We don't seem to do much of that anymore.
We seem to go about our days with our eyes glued to our screens and our heads in the clouds or in the sand. We stick close to our tribes and our safe havens. We've all started becoming more comfortable with the "we" and the "them" — the dreaded "other." We don't 'see' anybody. But the minute you make an introduction, the moment you lift your head and raise an eyebrow or share a smile, you are connecting with another human being. You are acknowledging the sheer magnificence that you both exist, that you are in this moment together. And just that small recognition changes you both. It does. I'm not sure how, but I'm certain that it does.
Maybe today you give it a try. I wonder where we'd all be if we just said "hello" more often.