Right to Privacy, or Self-Isolation?

“It means a great deal to those who are oppressed to know that they are not alone. And never let anyone tell you that what you are doing is insignificant” -Bishop Desmond Tutu

While I was growing up, people related to one another differently than they do today. Everybody knew everybody. As annoying as it was that your neighbor knew whom you were going out on a date with before you did, the closeness served a purpose: We all felt like we were part of a big family.

Then I grew up; I moved away, and times changed. In eleven years living in my first house, I probably met six neighbors; in my current house about eight. In fact, rather than meeting them, I should say we have passed one another while walking our pets or children and smiled cordially. No warmth there, aside from a pasted smile after a long day at work and a standard, automated greeting.

People of our generation have become isolated. They meet on predetermined social occasions, and maybe even talk on the phone often, but the camaraderie of having a “Rhoda” busting through our unlocked door is something that’s only preserved on “The Mary Tyler Moore” show.

Regardless of race, religious beliefs, political affiliations and other societal boundaries, we are all human beings and all are on the same boat sharing a journey. Larger cities with a high density of population such as New York or LA are even worse - millions of people live there, but many of them keep a constant shield in front of their hearts, afraid to meet or talk to a stranger.

We hide and isolate ourselves to be safe, to have space, to protect our rights to privacy; yet all that we are doing is creating widespread loneliness. Human beings have an innate need to connect to one another – whenever we go in the opposite direction, honoring fear, doubt and unfounded judgment, we do not do ourselves any favors. If we could take down the shield and show who we truly are – exposing the core of our weaknesses and strengths – we would be surprised at just how many people share our same feelings. Once the connection is made, everyone feels better simply by knowing they are not alone – someone understands what they are going through.

Why can’t we connect the same way with everyone we meet? Do we need to walk up a mountain to know the path is steep? In order to expect others to open up to us and be willing to connect, we have to start with ourselves. We are all unique and important in our own individual ways, yet we are all fruits of the same tree – there is no reason for us to fall so far apart.


www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

The Boy and the Duck

“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway? We are born, we live a little, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.” ~ E. B. White

My son Michael loves fishing. That boy could sit on the bank of a pond the whole day, thoughts wandering to distant worlds as he waits for fish to bite. During his outings to the pond, a tiny body of water in the middle of a neighborhood like many others, surrounded by pretty homes and a newly installed wooden gazebo, Michael has made an unusual friend – Alfred the duck. Several weeks ago, Alfred had a friend, another duck which, like him, seemed to have missed the bus going south. Both ducks stayed around the pond, using the spillway for shelter, but lately Alfred’s friend has been missing, and nobody seems to know what happened to it.

Over time, Alfred has warmed up to Michael. At first, a little apprehensive about the intentions of this young boy trespassing on his territory, he hissed and ran off, waddling the way ducks do; but, once he realized that Michael meant no harm - and was in fact bringing an offering of peace in the shape of bread – he gradually came a little closer each day.

Yesterday, Michael asked to go fishing at about five o’clock, and since his brother didn’t want to go with him, I grabbed a book and we drove down to the pond. On our way out we made sure to bring some bread for Alfred. I pulled my car by the edge of the pond behind the spillway, and made myself comfortable in the seat while Michael got out of the car, fishing rod over his shoulder and bread in his hand. He stopped by the entrance of the spillway and called Alfred; after a moment the little bundle of white feathers emerged and followed Michael to his chosen spot on the other side of the pond.

My original intention was to read while I waited, but what was unfolding outside the car was so endearing that I put the book down and just watched.

Michael got his fishing rod ready and prepared to cast, while Alfred supervised by the edge of the pond; when Michael sat down, the duck went to settle beside him. I saw Michael feed him a few pieces of bread, which he gobbled eagerly but not aggressively; even after the bread was gone, Alfred continued to sit by him. When Michael caught a small fish and stood up to reel it in, the duck walked over and stood beside him. After about an hour, Michael was done fishing for the day. He walked back toward the car, and Alfred waddled back with him, side by side. When they reached the entrance of the spillway, Alfred went in and Michael continued to walk after telling his little friend goodbye for the evening.

I never got to read a single page of my book in that hour, but what I saw warmed my heart – friends comes in many packages, sometimes even in the likes of a lonely white duck named Alfred.

When Our Relationship is Only a Band-Aid (repost)

“Don't smother each other. No one can grow in the shade.” ~Leo Buscaglia

Just a few days ago my mother was excitedly telling me of the cruise she and my father are going on to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary coming up in October. The moment I hung up the phone, a friend stopped by, and I shared the happy news with her. My friend sighed and asked what their secret is.

Indeed, there is no secret to having a long, healthy relationship, but a good dose of self-love and respect are certainly key ingredients toward its longevity.

Too often, people embark on relationships to fill inner voids they are unable to satisfy on their own. Because of the burst of energy directed at them by the new partner, they feel renewed, happy and fulfilled. However, as soon as the “newness” wears out – and each person in the game feels comfortable in showing their true colors – the band-aid relationship is defunct.

If people approach a relationship as a whole, their communion is one of equal exchange. No issues of control get in the way, because each person is self-confident and doesn’t need a daily shot of reassurance. On the contrary, when someone approaches a new relationship as a half - and hopes someone else will make them whole by supplying a substitute for the self-love they were lacking in the beginning - the end result is often a sad one.

In the early days of the relationship, when both parties float on the wings of infatuation, each of them is feeding the other person a great deal of energy - the energy flows back and forth and keeps both fulfilled and secure. As days go by, and the level of comfort grows, the amount of energy fed to the other person naturally decreases. Suddenly, the whole is split back in two halves, and each is loudly demanding its fix to feel complete. As the half is starved of its daily dose, old patterns of doubt and fear that were temporarily deactivated are triggered back into action; subconsciously terrified at the thought of being cut off from the energy supply, the person being ignored initiates conflicts to trigger at least a flow of negative energy. Their aggressive approach turns the other person off even more, with the result of a complete shut-off. After a few unsuccessful and pained exchanges, the relationship dies.

We often mistake our fear of being alone with love. Some fear losing others, through death or otherwise, because they are afraid no one will be there to take care of them; other people fear losing loved ones because they need to take care of someone else. Being needed creates a gateway for energy to flow. Either way it's about control, which originates from the ego, not from the soul.

We need to fall in love with ourselves, before we fall in love with others, and know that we are worthy of our own respect and happy being with ourselves. Until we enjoy our own company, we shouldn’t expect others to pick up our slack.