In recent years, I have been strolling through life with a nagging sense that something's missing.
I think back to the days when my life was a symphony of real human connection. Like those after-work gatherings at a pub or dance club in Columbus, Ohio. The clinking of glasses, swaying of hips, the raucous laughter. Those were the days folks.
Now, here I am, scrolling through social media, feeling an emptiness that no number of likes can fill. And quite frankly, I’m not sure what the hell happened?
Robert Putnam’s eye-opening book "Bowling Alone" offers some prescient yet grim insights. The verdict? We’ve become more isolated, less likely to connect with others, more likely to want to go it alone.
And damn if he isn’t right. I recall the days when I would strike up conversations with strangers during happy hours at TGI Friday’s, swapping stories and laughs. And attend sporting events with a group of chums. Or travel to different cities and hangout. But now, those moments feel like relics of a bygone era.
My journey through the years is a saga of lost connections. There were the yoga classes in San Diego, where I found a tribe of fellow yogis, our breaths harmonizing like a cosmic symphony. And Avalanche hockey games in Denver?
It wasn’t just about the activity, rather the shared experience, the camaraderie. These moments were the threads that wove the fabric of my community. Sadly, over time, those threads have frayed.
So, why the hell is it harder to build community the older I get? Part of it is life. Responsibilities stack up, and free time becomes a luxury. And of course the COVID-19 pandemic pushed us further into our isolated bubbles.
The Taoist sages Lao Tzu, Mencius, and Zhuangzi have a lot to say about the importance of connection:
Lao Tzu speaks of the interconnectedness of everything, a web where every interaction matters.
Mencius emphasizes the innate goodness in people and the need to nurture those bonds.
Zhuangzi, with his whimsical tales, reminds us of the joy in spontaneous, genuine connections.
From a Taoist perspective, the essence of life is found in these connections. They ground us, remind us of our place in the world, and bring us back to the present moment. I’ve felt this before, in those wild nights out with my dance tribe, in the shared smiles with work colleagues, and in the collective breath of a yoga class with a friend. These are the moments when I’m truly alive, plugged into the flow of the Tao.
Lao Tzu says, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," and so does the journey to rekindle those connections. With this I am recognizing the need to be more present when I’m out and put down the damn phone and look around.
I could also do more to engage in small acts of kindness, strike up conversations, and make an effort to reconnect. Or join a group, take a class, or hit up a local event.
The key is to be open to connection, to let go of the fear of rejection, and to embrace the spontaneity of life, much like Zhuangzi’s carefree fish swimming in the river.
It’s easy to get caught up in the grind, to believe that connections will happen on their own. But as I’ve learned, that’s a lie. I have to cultivate them, nurture them, like a gardener tending to their plants. The Taoist sage knows that life is about flowing with the natural rhythms of the world, about finding harmony in our relationships and in ourselves.
I’m not alone in this struggle. You, too, especially after the pandemic, are probably trying to find their way back to more in-person, face-to-face community. It’s a challenge, but it’s also an opportunity. A chance to rediscover the joy of human connection, to build new relationships, and to strengthen old ones.
Community more than anything is about being present with others. It’s about sharing experiences, joys, and sorrows. It’s about dancing the night away, sharing a laugh over a cocktail, and finding camaraderie in unexpected places.
So I have now decided to take a page from the Taoist sages, embrace the flow of life, and reconnect with the world around me. The connections I seek are out there, waiting for me to find them.
In the end, it's about being part of the circular nature of life, feeling the threads of our existence interconnecting with others, creating a mosaic of shared humanity. That’s where the magic lies, in the spaces between us, in the moments that bind us together, in the dance of life that connects us all.
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We could fall into the trap of "I could be doing more" as we could always be doing more, and better. Choices about how we connect, why, when and with whom are choices, mostly conscious, some out of need, others for pure pleasure and shared joy. Sharing and giving have benefits without thinking about results. Being who we are, in this moment, and the next, we are exactly where we're supposed to be.
I've always been an introvert, but.our country has always centered on the individual. COVID-19 exacerbated it. O noticed such a difference in Ireland. Its so communal. My friend who is from Limerick said the famine was so devastating it still affects them. Not only is this seen in pub culture but out and about. A person exited a Dublin housing project (looked like a nice apt. building in the U.S.) and offered an unhoused person a cup.of tea. People talk with the unhoused and always offer them money too. I hope it doesn't take a devastating even like The Great Hunger to make us a communal culture.