Togetherness and the Tragic
tldr: Here I invite you to reflect on how our togetherness is the best way for us to cope with the tragic and its inevitability. I share tips and resources on how to come together and bring people together.
I hope your year is off to a good start.
Tonight we have the first New Moon of 2024. Enjoy that very special energy of beginning, the sense of starting fresh.
I was blessed to start the year working with Tuesday, my beautiful wife you hear so much about. We offered healing work to a couple that traveled halfway around the world to receive what we are here to give. (BTW: Tuesday’s “Navigating Transformation” starts next Wednesday).
On my last note I invited you to consider writing a simple “minimum viable philosophy.” It has been lovely and inspiring to read yours. And it has felt good to share mine with those of you that write me back.
I wrote a long postscript at the end of that newsletter. It included a reflection on learning to live life on life's terms. Our anxiety. Our stress. Our depressions and addictions. ALL are connected to our very human tendency to rebel against the terms. The irrefutable fact that no one can escape trauma, tragedy or death.
What are these terms that I am talking about? The Bhuddists seem to summarize it best, in what they refer to as the five remembrances:
That we are of the nature to grow old. And there is no way to escape growing old.
That we are of the nature to get sick. And there is no way to escape sickness.
That we are of the nature to die. And there is no way to escape death.
That all that is dear to us and everyone we love are of the nature to change. And there is no way to escape being separated from them.
That our actions are our only true belongings. We cannot escape the consequences of our actions. Our actions are the ground on which we stand.
In my own life I've had to learn that even the spiritual path, the path of service, the path of trying to be healthy, all the good things that many of us are practicing with BOOST Your Practice, can easily become another trap.
We can subconsciously start thinking of these as our bargaining chips. We can try to convince ourselves that if we do all of the good things, then, maybe we’ll get a pass on terms. Maybe we will be spared the hurt and loss that are inherent to our very existence.
I was shocked to discover this about myself. It meant uncovering an existential anxiety that I had not even acknowledged. It is the source of persistent escapist and addictive behaviors.
I learned that there is no one that escapes the terms. No one will ever be exempt. Not me. Not my teachers. And not even the Great Beings and the Saints who can bless all of the earth. There is great wisdom to knowing, accepting, that there is no escape.
Life will give us no option. It will come as it does. It will end as it does. And to learn to live and accept these irrefutable facts, is to be on the path of wisdom. And, it is what leads us to serenity, to happiness, to love and to open hearted joy. It is what helps us learn to live with this hurt, this achy part of us, that we want to turn away from. The very ache that makes us human.
The Tragic and What Happens Next
This week I read a column by David French, who writes for the New York Times. He titled it: A Terrible Phone Call and What Came Next. He shared the life changing moment that many of us here have already experienced. The moment of the terrible diagnosis. The moment of the tragic news. His wife has advanced breast cancer. And just like that, their lives have been turned upside down. He compares it to that moment when we go from peace to war. Another devastating part of this human experience.
But David also goes on to share what happened next. And that’s what I want to bring our attention to.
“[E]ver since the deep darkness of that November phone call, Nancy and I have experienced countless bursts of light shining through, each one coming through the love and care from other people.”
Their college son gave up his precious final quarter of college to come back home to help his mom.
Their church small group immediately started organizing meals.
His college friends raked their leaves so that he could sit with his beloved in chemotherapy.
His fantasy baseball league collected funds for wigs.
“With each act of kindness and expression of concern — including from colleagues [...] who’ve demonstrated remarkable care and compassion — the darkness recedes further. Nothing is easy, and the fear is still real. But there is no comparison between the state of our hearts now and their state when we first received Nancy’s grim news.”
David says that the reason for their revival is rooted in a profound truth elegantly captured by an old Swedish proverb: Shared joy is double joy. Shared sorrow is half sorrow.
I know little about David, I’m not even a big reader of his column. But I know that he and his beloved have crafted a life that nurtures communities of care and compassion. And that is what we are here to do. It is certainly what I aim to do with my work. And what I am continuing to invite you into. Even as we meander our way to figuring out exactly how.
The fact is that we are living through the opposite of community. The opposite of mutual care. A crisis of meaning, connection and loneliness. David speaks of how:
“[P]erson after person, generation after generation, describes the crushing burden of feeling utterly alone, sometimes even when they’re married or have good friends. A cancer survivor describes feeling abandoned. Middle-aged voices explain they don’t want to be a ‘burden’ on others… Men and women have fewer friendships. An alarming percentage of Americans report having no close friends at all.”
This is the problem. And it is a problem that we can tend to.
We are living in tumultuous times. Times that include instability, danger, and sorrow. But in this we are not the exception. These are defining aspects of the human condition.
What we are missing is each other.
Our economic system yields a culture of atomized individuals and isolated nuclear families. Our work is to rebel against these forces of separation. Our work is to turn towards each other. To nurture bonds with each other. To learn to navigate the inevitable messiness of bumping up against each other’s personalities, traumas and wounds. To hold ourselves with clear and healthy boundaries. Precisely so that we can become ever more generous with our kindness and compassion.
[Better Boundaries = More Capacity for Compassion]
This posture of turning towards others, of taking the risks that are inherent in relationships, is actually some of the best medicine against anxiety, depression and addiction. It pulls you out of yourself. It places you in a place of care and service.
What I’m saying is that it is up to us to do it. I agree with David French when he says there is no top down solution to the problem. That we need community and that it is up to you and me to nurture it. That each one of us knows the lonely and the overwhelmed. And that it is up to each one of us to reach out and bring folks together.
Bringing people together now is what will help us be with the tragic when it comes. It is also the best way to contend with the tragic that has already happened. In our world. And in our lives. The hurt too many of us have experienced from the time we were little children.
How Do We Bring People Together?
You don’t have to be an outgoing extrovert, a super host or facilitator. Some of us bring large groups together. Others connect with smaller groups of friends, colleagues or neighbors. Some might reach out and focus on a single person or family member. (If you have a life partner, they cannot be the only person that you turn to. It is unhealthy and it will not work).
You can also find ways to join and participate. You don’t have to be the convener, your participation is essential for a community to work. There are so many opportunities out there right now. There are meetups and support groups. It’s ok to start online. But be sure to find ways to be in real space with other people. We are a social animal. We are meant to come together as flesh. Our bodies are made to sense each other. Healthy spaces help us regulate one another.
It’s ok to shop around, don’t give up too quickly. Some communities will not be for you. But be careful with the trap of “terminal uniqueness.” We have a tendency to believe that our situation is so unique that general advice and common approaches do not apply to us. This self-perception is a significant barrier. We subconsciously believe that our pain is part of what makes us special. And it leads to isolation. To the refusal to fully participate in community.
On the other hand are the many people who self-identify as facilitators, but have not done much facilitating. Folks often ask me how to train to do this work. My shortest answer includes two points:
Tend to your interior condition. “The success of an intervention is directly proportional to the interior condition of the intervener.”
Start facilitating. It can be something small. And it should start purely as an act of service. As a gift.
You can also let go of the word facilitator. Why don’t you just try being a host. Gather people. A meal. A potluck. Go out to dinner with friends and be the person who dares to make it meaningful.
Right now there are so many great card decks for having meaningful conversations. Esther Perel has developed a whole game. And the folks at The Moth have a lovely deck for sharing stories. I think the “Death Deck” is especially relevant to this conversation on togetherness and the tragic.
Priya Parker wrote a beautiful book called “The Art of Gathering.” And while I have not worked with it directly, it sounds like my friend Casper ter Kuile is darn close to cracking the code. He has developed a program for deep connection called “The Nearness.*”
[I am including links to all these below]
I’ll be writing more about this. But right now we’ll come to a close with me strongly advocating for you to consider 12-Step programs. There are so many, from substances, to porn, to overeating, to gambling to debt. I think the steps definitely cracked a code for healing through togetherness. If you are struggling with an addictive behavior, I urge you to give it a shot. And if you come from a family that struggled with addiction, there are 12-Step support groups that can literally change your life.
It’s not very easy to human. It is much harder to do it alone. Let us learn to come together. Experience connection and joy. And be ready for the tragedy that will always, always come.
Saludos,
Gibrán
*If I can sort out how to manage the time, I would like to experiment with “The Nearness.” Send me a note if you would like me to invite you into that. BUT don’t allow my pace to keep YOU from just trying it with your friends.