In Touching the Void, Joe Simpson described how, when he believed he was dying, the prospect that bothered him the most was that of dying alone. By that point he wasn't even trying to stay alive. But he still was trying to reach other people so that, when he died, he would be with someone. I found that very moving.
We humans seem to have a deep need for connection.
Yesterday I felt discouraged. I did not want to discuss my issue with my local friends, because they were facing the same challenge. I thought it might be more constructive to share my dilemma with someone who wasn't caught up in the drama, so I e-mailed a friend in another city. This morning he called me via Skype, and we had a video conference.
My friend refrained from trying to fix things for me. He just listened. I found it very comforting to be heard. I don't mean that my friend registered the sound waves coming from my voice or that he understood the meanings of the English words I was saying. I mean that he conveyed the impression that he recognized the reality I was experiencing.
The encouragement that I feel following that conversation has caused me to reflect on the meanings of words like courage, encourage, and discourage. Courage comes from coeur, the French word for heart. I believe that, when we display courage, we are enlivened by our core (heart) values. When we encourage another person, we help him or her to tap into those deep resources. Conversely, if we discourage someone, we introduce a barrier that makes it more difficult for him or her to access his or her inner strength.
I believe it takes courage to live. If Joe Simpson's experience is anything to go by, apparently it also takes courage to die. It seems that, in either case, an attentive witness facilitates our communion with our true self.
To me, local relationships are vital. The Internet could not have replicated my experience of dancing with my fellow cohos and our guests last Friday night.
But, with that having been said, technology has created avenues of communication that overcome some physical limitations. The alphabet, the telephone, e-mail, video conferencing, Internet forums, instant messaging, blogs, etc., make it possible for us to share and acknowledge each others' lives across time and distance.
I appreciate community, whatever form it takes.
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Making peace with men
It was serendipitous that my visit to the Royal British Columbia Museum took place at a time when I was re-reading a marvelous book, Iron John by Robert Bly.
Although the museum collection caused me to recall the suffering to which "progress" and "development" have subjected hunter-gatherers, our modern way of life has created challenges for contemporary men too.
As Bly states, the relationship that has been most severely damaged by the Industrial Revolution is the one between father and son. During our hunting-gathering days and even during our agricultural days, fathers and sons used to work alongside each other. Think of the farmers, blacksmiths and carpenters who passed on their skills to their sons.
In an agricultural society, fathers work close to home. They return to their houses for lunch. Their wives and children understand what they do for a living and interact with them a lot.
But that changed for us when men went off to work in distant factories and mines, and later in offices. Their work became specialized, their family members no longer understood what they did for a living, and their wives and children saw much less of them.
Some men, who were forced to work punishing hours, were exhausted, and behaved like jerks.
Women resented being less powerful, but let off steam by disparaging men. One of the rhymes that I remember my mother reciting was:
Once we were both middle aged, I told one of my brothers that I felt uncomfortable about having been elevated at his expense. I asked him how he had felt when he had heard those words. He said, "Like a piece of shit." I felt so sad when he shared that with me.
We see variations on this theme all over the place. For example, television ads invariably portray the dad as the resident idiot who doesn't have the first clue about cold medicine. Then the mom rolls her eyes before revealing the magic elixir that will fix everything.
I am sorry to report that there was a time when I was that smug mom. But I like to think that I have outgrown that attitude.
I know, from first hand experience, that some men behave badly. Yet, with that having been said, I am finding it deeply rewarding to be gaining a new recognition of the gifts that men have to offer the world.
The society that I want to nurture is one that is supportive towards men, women, children and, indeed, our planet. My membership of Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community is central to that commitment.
Although the museum collection caused me to recall the suffering to which "progress" and "development" have subjected hunter-gatherers, our modern way of life has created challenges for contemporary men too.
As Bly states, the relationship that has been most severely damaged by the Industrial Revolution is the one between father and son. During our hunting-gathering days and even during our agricultural days, fathers and sons used to work alongside each other. Think of the farmers, blacksmiths and carpenters who passed on their skills to their sons.
In an agricultural society, fathers work close to home. They return to their houses for lunch. Their wives and children understand what they do for a living and interact with them a lot.
But that changed for us when men went off to work in distant factories and mines, and later in offices. Their work became specialized, their family members no longer understood what they did for a living, and their wives and children saw much less of them.
Some men, who were forced to work punishing hours, were exhausted, and behaved like jerks.
Women resented being less powerful, but let off steam by disparaging men. One of the rhymes that I remember my mother reciting was:
Girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice.
Boys are made of snips and snails and puppy dogs' tails.
Once we were both middle aged, I told one of my brothers that I felt uncomfortable about having been elevated at his expense. I asked him how he had felt when he had heard those words. He said, "Like a piece of shit." I felt so sad when he shared that with me.
We see variations on this theme all over the place. For example, television ads invariably portray the dad as the resident idiot who doesn't have the first clue about cold medicine. Then the mom rolls her eyes before revealing the magic elixir that will fix everything.
I am sorry to report that there was a time when I was that smug mom. But I like to think that I have outgrown that attitude.
I know, from first hand experience, that some men behave badly. Yet, with that having been said, I am finding it deeply rewarding to be gaining a new recognition of the gifts that men have to offer the world.
The society that I want to nurture is one that is supportive towards men, women, children and, indeed, our planet. My membership of Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community is central to that commitment.
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