Lately, I’ve been aware of how much of my life is lived in between.
Between countries and time zones.
Between research and relationship.
Between certainty and curiosity.
There’s a quiet tension in that space — and also a deep kind of truth.
Much of my work centers on social capital, but what I keep noticing is that connection doesn’t announce itself loudly. It shows up in conversations that linger, in shared silence, in the moments when someone feels seen without needing to be explained. These are not always measurable, but they are enduring.
I’ve spent years studying networks, trust, and belonging — and I’m increasingly convinced that the most important part of connection isn’t what we do, but how we experience one another. Social capital lives first in perception: Am I safe here? Do I matter? Am I known?
Travel has a way of sharpening that awareness. So does friendship. So does ritual. So does the changing of the seasons. Each reminds me that meaning isn’t static — it’s cyclical. It deepens when we pay attention.
As the year turns darker, I feel less urgency to explain and more desire to listen. Less need to build, and more need to tend. To relationships. To ideas. To the quiet inner places where wisdom forms before it speaks.
If there’s a throughline to my work right now, it’s this:
Connection is not something we accumulate — it’s something we practice.
Again and again. With humility. With intention. With care.
I don’t have a tidy conclusion — just gratitude for the people, places, and conversations that continue to shape me. And a growing trust that being present in the in-between might be exactly where I’m meant to be.
— Rick
The Official Author Page of Dr. Rick L. Mask (The Social Capitalist) and the Home of Social Capital 2.0 