The birdcage is beautiful: an old-fashioned domed one made of brass bars. It’s sitting in the window of an antique-y sort of junk shop, still intact and complete with a single static perch stretching across its width. Sitting on the perch is a stuffed bird, of faded blue/black foliage, dark of beak and beady of eye, its head drooping and desolate. Poor bird, I think, even though I know it’s not real. It looks so desperately destitute and deserted. All alone, in splendid isolation, and not even a mirror to reflect another bird in the cage. No one to talk with, no one to share with, no one to do life together and support one another. If only it could fly free! I walk in through the shop door, and stand resolutely by the bird cage, eyeing it longingly, wishing it were mine. Tempted to pick it up from its place in the window and waltz out triumphantly. I dare not.
A bent, wizened black figure shuffles over, arms long and head on one side. It’s yours already, he barks. Don’t you realise you’re that bird, deserted and desolate, pinned to your perch and too afraid to fly out and find others? Take it; I’d be glad to be rid of it.
As he picks up the cage, it bangs into me, startling me. The pain jolts me from my dream, and the beautiful bird cage dissolves. I’m still left with a sense of desolation, a realisation that too often I try to do life alone, fearing the perceptions and prejudices of others should they fly with me and discover my perfectly imperfect life. So I’m pinned to my perch with self-inflicted isolationism, and the only person that it bruises is me.
Or is it?
Connecting with others, finding your crew, being in community. It helps others perhaps as much as if not more than helping you. But don’t you find that both blessing and tragedy lie in our modern life, in that we actually don’t need our crew or community to survive any more. We can WFH, (work from home) order our groceries online and have them delivered, have Amazon deposit almost anything we need, want or desire without having to leave the house. We have safety and stability in our society of affluence in the Western world - and the highest rate of depression and suicide. We aren’t created for isolation but for community and connection.
One of the bars of our birdcage is lack of ‘tribe’. People with whom we do life together, share things, sorrow and sigh and love and laugh together. We’re meant to do more than collaborate, we are intended to communicate. We’re all in this together, after all. Each of us is needed by somebody today. We may need them tomorrow. Who are your somebodies?
I admit that it’s hard work, reaching out to communicate and connect; especially if you’re an introvert like me. You have to take the first flutter of your wings! It helps if you know what you like and where to find others who like the same things. It’s a first tentative little flight. A book club? the gym? an evening class in French or painting or law? a prayer group? breakfast together with other grieving lonely widowers? a choir or orchestra? a rambling group?
Yes, it can be hard. To make that first step alone is hard.
But then I discovered it’s easiest for me to find just one person to go with me. Reach out to one person - ‘hi, I’m thinking of going along to….. I’d love it if you’d come with me! Shall we give it a go and see if we like it?’
The worst response is a politely astonished no! But it could be that they are thrilled to have someone invite THEM!
And in the places where you have to go as routine - the school gate, the office, the commuter train - why not be the first to make it a more friendly place? Smile. Say hallo. Don’t we all inwardly have that young teenager who feels lonely and isolated and is longing for someone to reach out and smile and say hallo? Someone who will accept us for who we are, and welcome us into their circle. Melanie Katzman, a psychologist, says ‘we all seek security, cherish praise and fear shame.’ (from her book, Connect First: 52 Ways to Ignite Success, Meaning and Joy at Work.) We can do that for others.
Be Present: I’m learning to give people my full attention - it’s been all too easy to be distracted and look away and take in others around us or what’s going on elsewhere. To truly give my attention wholly to the person I’m with is a gift for them - and helps me too. And I’d like to suggest to particular others that they put away their distracting phone and truly listen and interact with me when we’re together and I’m talking…..
Just Connect: by expressing appreciation: Regularly let people know how much they mean to you. I’ve learned to do this - it began when living in the USA and hearing such positive comments from others. It’s such a simple thing to do yet it makes a world of difference. You’re so kind to me, said P.C. today as we walked. I think all I had said was how well she was walking (she’s 10 years older than I am!)and what a joy it was to have her company. She seemed to grow several inches, smiled and told me she felt cherished.
Join Communities: Engage in groups that share your interests and values.
One secret to setting my spirit free to soar is finding community and connection. Finding others to fly with. Spending time with those who energise me and love me, even though I’m ME! (and think I’m unlovable, as most of us do: think we’re unlovable that is) Because I love them even though they’re THEM.
Who are you flying with?
This is part 4 of the Soaring Series.