Island Living
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I need your advice. Your thoughts. Your take.
What do you do when you see that sheen of sadness in the eyes of someone you encounter or know or love? What do you do when pain is palpable through a shifting glance or a strained smile? What do you do when faced with a cracked voice and cryptic words? What do you do when you know there is a slippery struggle under that immaculately polished surface? What do you do when between the lines of an email or a letter, you detect a quiet, unnerving desperation?
Something happens when we become adults. Something tragic. We become responsible and self-sufficient souls. We get real. We deal. We dream a bit less. We focus on practical things. We keep it together. Because this is expected of us. We evince strength even when we don’t feel it. We flash smiles. We make lists. We make commitments. We learn to don that cozy cloak of happiness. In time, with practice, we peel off from the continental frenzy. In learning to rely upon ourselves, we forget how to need others. Prudently, we shrink inward. We become islands. Isolated. Free-floating. Lonely. Alone.
And we learn that others are islands too. And the waters of this wide world keep us safe and separate. A blessing and a curse, these waters buffer us and keep us from colliding. Much of the time, we feel bolstered and secure in our whimsical and wise solitude. But sometimes, we feel utterly, irrevocably alone, untouchable and unable to touch.
What do you do when you sense trouble and tumult on another island? Do you sit back and watch, safe on your own shore? Or do you reach out and speak up and bravely rough impossible and inscrutable seas? Do you ask questions, force that bittersweet collision, manifest concern, bring the truth to the surface? What do you do when you know someone is floating and sad and they don’t say so? What do you do when there might be a call for help, but it is muddled, or faint, or inconsistent? What do you do when there is no call at all?
Everyone struggles and...
I like this post because I think this island living is very sad and very much a reality of today’s grown up world and I am glad you have shined light on the subject. The Bible says that we are all tested in the same ways ( 1 Corinthians 10:12-14) and I strongly believe that we should reach out, talk, send smoke signals and respond to SOS, even if its a quiet one. We also have to remember not to be so critical. Only those of us who have never sinned can cast the first stone. Everyone should have at least a small army of people with whom they can share everything. My most deep and special friendships are the ones in which I know of their heartache and pain and they know mine. We don’t pretend. We are complex beings and life is more interesting if we deal with it head on rather than sweep matters under the carpet. Yes, I do think you should reach out to a friend you are concerned about. You might not be able to change their situation, but their heart will rejoice (even if very deep down) for the concern that a person was willing to show. We need each other and no man can survive as an island.
It’s so true that we are socially trained to hide our angst, leave it out of public life, deal with it on our own. There are some upsides to this approach. Humans are more or less hard-wired to always be worrying about SOMETHING, so keeping it in may be the way that humanity avoids just constantly complaining all the time.
But. There are times when, as you write, you can see someone flailing below the surface and a little extra care can make a big difference.
My own approach changes with the person in question. If it’s a friend with a low-B.S. tolerance, then I’ll just ask what’s up. If it’s someone who would hide it away and pretend it’s all okay even if directly asked (and I’ll shamefully admit, I am much more likely to be the latter type myself!), then I have found the best approach usually involves an evening of trashy TV, snack food, and a slow progression into more and more meaningful conversation.
TiVo is especially wonderful when you can put Dancing with the Stars on pause to talk about what’s really bugging your pal!
The people in the world who I most respect and admire the most are the ‘adults’ who can find the humor in the mundane, the beauty in the ordinary and the magic in every day life. Perhaps it’s true that something happens when we become self sufficient adults. But there are those of us who never lose touch with dreams. Those of us who still wish upon the starlight star bright first star I see tonight. Those of us who believe that without the bad we would never know the good.
Still, I think America (and Manhattan, especially) has such a dichotomy of people who can’t refrain from ridiculous emotional outbursts (‘Barista! Barista! I SO did not order a triple grande latte. I ordered a Grande triple latte! Make it again and snappier this time…Christmas is coming…” and those who watch, witness, and live their lives completely playing a part in the theatrical drama that is ‘American Life’. Put on a brave face, smile, pretend everything is fine (ie. Annette Benning in ‘American Beauty’).
I openly admit that I am a master at flashing smiles, deflecting questions, putting on a brave face (to the general public) and convincing myself that it is all part of life. But my best friends always call me on my bull sh*t. They know me almost as well as I know myself. And without them I don’t know what I would do.
So, in terms of your post, my suggestion would be to reach out. People are unknowingly calling out for help all time. Sometimes they want a push but most of the time they need it.
Elizabeth – I love the idea of everyone having a “small army” of people with whom they can share everything. You are indeed lucky to be surrounded by people who know you deeply, about the good and the bad and the uncertain. But my gut and my fear is that (1) many people do not have this small army of people who care about them and their despair; or (2) many of us cannot rely wholly on others, open up, and reach out, because we don’t even know how to admit things to ourselves. You make a salient point about the very act of reaching out and evidencing concern being intrinsically important. Even if we cannot ultimately help, I do think there is considerable virtue in making the effort in the first place.
Phoebems – you make at least two important and interesting points. First, there is indeed a positive aspect to our inclination to turn inwards and conceal despair. How would society function if we all wore our emotions on our sleeve, if all of our conversations centered on our grievances? Second, you point to the critical fact that we might all be islands, but there can be very different kinds of islands. Different people respond to different types of overtures. Some are straight-shooters and others (and I think this is the majority of us) need to be coaxed into expressing our darker selves.
Sarah – how true that there is such a stark dichotomy of types in this city and beyond, that some people are dramatic all the time, expressive of every ounce of emotion, and others hide it all behind a constant lipstick smile. I do think most of us have our public selves where we hold it together to function, to navigate the waters of the world, and then our more private selves where we (hopefully) allow the pristine facade to crack a bit. My inclination is to reach out when I discern problematic sadness is another, but what ultimately does “reaching out” entail? Often those who are suffering most are expert at keeping walls up, at keeping people at a safe distance.
Tosh – I do agree that it is all about analyzing each person and each situation and asking the right questions with the hope that some truth, some openness, will emerge as a result. You are right that so many islands have or come to have perimeters of rocky cliffs; compelling extension of the original metaphor. What do we do with these islands though? Do we approach knowing the angle will be difficult or impossible? At what point, if ever, do we give up? So glad you like the blog! Larry Bird was my first love. I was obsessed. I literally wore a Celtics cap to school every day of 5th grade and I wore full Bird uniform (including the knee socks) every day the Celtics had a home game. I’m sure my Bird love will comprise an entire ILI post (if not many) in the future!
Asking the right questions tends to be my go-to tactic in such situations. Admittedly, this can be tricky terrain. Not all islands are adorned with smooth sandy beaches. Rather, many have perimeters comprised entirely of rocky cliffs .. making approach from any angle difficult.
BTW – I love reading your blog and love the new site, but wonder the significance of Larry Legend?
The more familiar we are with the craggy coastlines or steep rock faces, the easier they are to approach and ultimately navigate. Giving up, (gasp!) depends on the stakes I suppose, and how vested we are. It may never be clear whether there is solid soil just ahead, and sometimes approaching at any cost can compromise the ecosystem that the islands share. But in some cases doing so and risking a friendship/relationship may be worth it, and in the end the right decision. (I killed your metaphor and I fear still evading the question unintentionally) ..
I do love the blog and LOL would love to see a future post about Larry Bird and accompanying photos. That is fantastic! As a (suburban) Bostonian I too was/am a Celtic Fan. My highlight was high-fiving Kevin McHale at the 1986 championship parade!
Tosh – craggy coastlines, steep rock faces, solid soil, island ecosystems – I love it! I think I need to hire you as my metaphor consultant
Seriously though, you make an important point. Perhaps we must force collision at all costs – when the stakes are high enough – even if it compromises or destroys the relationship. And you are not evading my question any more than I am. I love asking questions and then evading them!
Okay, it’s done. A post on Larry is forthcoming. And I am 100% jealous about your McHale high-five. I was so completely obsessed with the Celtics that my parents let me stay home from school on the day Danny Ainge was traded. I kid not.
I have found – and thank you, Aidan, for pointing me to this particular post of yours as I am new here – that letting the island dweller know that a boat is waiting at any time to bring him or her to a different place for a while helps tremendously.
I do, though, find I tend to hold my troubles – new metaphor coming – close to my chest. I don’t show my cards as I play the game and have been called on the line for it recently. I am learning to be a more open player but it is not easy.