No Man is an Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee

-John Donne 1572-1631

Browsing my bookshelf recently, I discovered a workbook about simplicity.  Given my aims for the year, this seemed a good time to revisit this book.  The author discusses a number of reasons why today’s society is fixated on consumption, and how a movement to simplify is underway.

The author reveals she had a consumption issue with shopping, involving a personal shopper on call at Sacks.  I thought, that does sound pretty extreme.  At first I didn’t think this applied to me.  But, she goes on to uncover some of the reasons why people are driven to consume, how it can fill other gaps in our lives.  On closer inspection, I recall trips to the Nordstrom makeup counter or shoe department while on business trips. I told myself it was because I didn’t have time to shop when the kids were around, but, truth be told, I was lonely.  Business travel is generally solo, and I’ve always enjoyed it.  This however, went deeper.  I was lonely at home too, and really just wanted to talk to someone.

I was so busy with work and caring for the kids, that I had let many friendships go.  Certainly this was not purposeful, but it seemed time went by in a frenzy of activity and tasks, day after day. Someone once told me, never let your clients get dusty.  This is good advice, but I think it applies, just as aptly, to friendships.

At first I judged myself harshly for this.  I should have found time to connect with friends.  I should have made more of an effort, accepted more invitations, picked up the phone more often.  I repeated the list of should haves, should haves, should haves to myself.  But, the truth was I was just too tired and worn out most of the time, thanks to crazy travel schedules, and super mutant bugs the kids picked up.   I had to admit there was only so much of me to go around.

Then, recently, someone told me parents of toddlers often find it an isolating time.  This surprised me.  Truly, it was a bit of an epiphany.  Perhaps I wasn’t alone in feeling this way.  Maybe it was just a temporary reflection of where I was in life.

When I became pregnant with my first child, I happily envisioned befriending other women in pre-natal yoga, or chatting over coffee at play-dates.  Likewise, when we moved to our current home, I was excited. I had visions of neighbors knocking on my door, casseroles in hand, or stopping to chat as they walked dogs.  In this daydream, ridiculously, these neighbors invariably had charming Southern accents.

More recently, I read, A Man Called Ove.  In this novel, Ove, the elderly curmudgeon, is preoccupied with the best way to commit suicide, but neighbors keep interrupting, with a series of hilarious pseudo-crises, always needing his assistance.  Albeit an endearing story, it struck me as improbable.  I found I was a bit jealous of Ove.  He too was lonely, but his neighbors seemed doggedly determined to befriend him, to draw him into their lives.

The reality of modern life is somewhat different. Everyone is supremely busy.  Most people are wrapped up in their own lives, hopes, desires, and troubles, and rightfully so.  Navigating life is difficult. The demands of young children are time consuming.  There’s not much energy left at the end of a whirlwind day.

At a recent birthday party, I recall chasing after my toddler who’d fallen, then arbitrating a disagreement over a toy among preschoolers. Opportunities to strike up conversations with other parents are rare in the wonderful chaos of raising little people.  It seems I have snippets of many conversations interrupted, over and over.  I’m constantly losing my train of thought, and forgetting what question I asked.

Years ago, I think raising children may have been somewhat different. This has me thinking about Downton Abbey.  Perhaps this is part of Downton’s appeal, the differentness of the lifestyle compared with modern day.  While few of us have servants and butlers, it also was a time when people lived in such closeness, so intertwined were their lives with one another’s. The children had caretakers, parents, and extended family, all living in such proximity.

This lifestyle really seems to reflect the ancient African proverb, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’  Is this true today?  Can it be true in today’s world? Conversely, a line from The Interestings comes to mind:

‘For a while they’d stayed close… having children had knocked it all into a different arrangement. The minute you had children, you closed ranks. You didn’t plan this in advance, but it happened. Families were like individual, discrete, moated island nations. The little group of citizens on the slab of rock gathered together instinctively, almost defensively, and everyone who was outside the walls—even if you’d been best friends—was now just that, outsiders.’

This, to me, seemed more accurately to reflect my feelings.  I did feel our little family unit was an isolated island unto ourselves, small and storm-swept. I often feel alone, with only the two of us trying to muddle through the complex demands of life, and complicated parenting decisions. I’m afraid we’ll make a mistake, or miss something important, when we only want the best for our family, as all parents do. Sometimes, I feel as if I am screaming, but no one can hear me.

I hope people don’t feel they have to accept this, that this is the curse of working people and stay at home parents alike, to keep their universe small out of a lack of time.  Even the most introverted of people craves the companionship of others.  No man is truly an island.

Perhaps today, it is a virtual village, albeit a much wider one.  People may not live in small villages, or have live-in servants, but that doesn’t mean there has to be less of an opportunity to share our fears and triumphs, as our world grows ever more connected.

To say that misery loves company, may be accurate.  But this goes a step further, with shared recognition of the fact that balancing life is difficult, and parenting is hard. Perhaps we can support one another through it. I’m grateful for the help or advice of anyone who’s been through a similar experience.

In the past few weeks, I have made a conscious effort to engage more in my community and reconnect with people I love.  I have so enjoyed this time, and cherish these recent memories, despite feeling pulled in multiple directions. I may be more tired, but I am happy.  I know it’s not sustainable, but perhaps being out of balance from time to time is part of a balanced life.