We may need the survival basics of water, food and shelter and a little money coming in. And we may want a nicer house or better car or faster computer. But our most fundamental yearning is not tangible at all.
It’s connection.
Sure, connection looks tangible. After all, connection means hooking up with some other living breathing being—a person or animal—and developing an emotional bond with that being through give and take interactions that satisfy both ways.
But what if you don’t have a partner? What if you don’t have a lot of people or animals around? What if, like me, you spend most of your time buried in your office in front of a computer working alone? What if you work from home and don’t get out much?
Just writing these words I had the sudden urge to go look for my housemate’s cat. I rent her downstairs apartment and she’s out of the country for a couple months and Sprout—a fluffy, grey, rapidly-growing-out-of-his-kitten stage of life cat—is under my care for the time being. And I’m so glad he is!
It’s been three years since my last cat, Grace, died. And because I’ve been moving and traveling it hasn’t been appropriate to adopt another kittie. 🙁 Ah – found him! Under my bed!
Thing is, just thinking about being alone can make us feel disconnected and lonely—even when we’ve got people in our lives. When I was contemplating writing about this doing the laundry this morning, the first thing that came up were emotions around my lack of connection. And I almost didn’t write this because of it.
Yes. I have a lot of friends that I see regularly. And I speak at churches and centers usually one or two times a month. And I’m constantly connecting with people via email or Skpe. But just because we’re around people doesn’t mean we’re connected. You can lie next to someone in bed every night for years and never feel lonelier.
Such is the natural desire—hunger even—for authentic connection that I sometimes wonder if most of us ever can get enough. And as I was thinking about this, stuffing the sheets in the dryer, it suddenly occurred to me that the longing for tangible connection is part of the issue.
By the time we’re 20 years old, how many songs have we heard on the radio or Pandora or a smart phone about looking for love? Having to find somebody to love? How s/he lost love? How desperate s/he is to have love again? Thousands?!
“Hook-up” messages are everywhere—in music, marketing, books, TV shows, movies. And there’s nothing wrong with this. It’s a basic human need and studies show that tangible connection is healthy for everyone. Kids do better developmentally in supportive loving environments and seniors live healthier longer lives.
But to feel connected we don’t always have to have an “other” around. I mean, just look at the word:
OTHER
Other is other. It’s outside us and outside our control. Having a satisfying connection with an “other” means a certain set of needs and circumstances has to be met. The “other” must be available when we need them (at least most the time). S/he must provide a sense of safety and being heard when we need it. S/he must provide physical comfort as necessary … etc etc. There are a lot of conditions surrounding the state of feeling connected—conditions that aren’t always easily met.
So here’s what I thought while shoving the next load of laundry into the washer: it helps to remember that we don’t always need to be tangibly hooked-up with others to feel connected.
Each one of us is already hooked-up … with other people far and near, past and future … with other beings … with life itself. We are already one with everything. The quantum field of life intelligence/energy/information is one thing. We couldn’t escape it if we tried.
I recalled this truth as I walked back downstairs to my office. And it really helped. I am part of life and it is part of me. I consciously put myself back in the picture—seeing myself/feeling myself not as a stand-alone unit filled with an ancient yearning for an “other” to provide connection—but as an integral interconnected being who is part of the whole.
Ah yes … life. We are one—I am one.
And so I decided to write about connection after all. The fact that Sprout joined me and is curled up in my lap as I write is pure gravy on top of a good meal.