Re-telling the story of connection
My strength is not my own but a shared, human resilience. I do not have to pull myself up by my bootstraps.
Hello.
One thing I have been doing lately is acknowledging the helpers, carefully retying knots in the safety net of community I carry with me, wherever I go. Re-telling the story of connection. Naming the generosity of my friend who sent groceries from hundreds of miles away in our first few weeks postpartum. Picturing the peace lilies another brought when my Dad passed. Cherishing the hand-written note received this week, reminding me I’m loved.
Evidence of care to counteract the times I feel alone, overwhelmed, and solitary.
Mr. Rogers, a trusted companion to children young and grown, is known for telling us to “look for the helpers,” whenever disaster strikes. I’ve been practicing this in my own life to soothe the foreboding joy I feel when anticipating the next bad thing that might happen. I sit, sifting through memories for evidence of the words that anchored me, the food that nourished me, the touch that healed me on even my darkest days.
This is both humbling and reassuring. It reminds me my strength is not my own but a shared, human resilience. I do not have to pull myself up by my own bootstraps. In fact, the belief that this is possible is the very definition of arrogance, a story told to serve the machinery of isolation and oppression.
“One of the greatest barriers to connection is the cultural importance we place on "going it alone." Somehow we've come to equate success with not needing anyone. Many of us are willing to extend a helping hand, but we're very reluctant to reach out for help when we need it ourselves. It's as if we've divided the world into "those who offer help" and "those who need help." The truth is that we are both.”
― Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection
Thanks to prompting from Adrienne Maree Brown,1 I’ve also been investigating my lineage of joy, generosity, and abundance. Asking myself, where did I get my love for singing? Who taught me how to appreciate nature? Whose footsteps can I follow when I want to shake my hips, wiggle my bum or twirl in delight? Who showed these hands how to knead the bread, mix the dough, and find comfort in all things sweet and savory?
Performing a regular inventory of the helpers in our lives and the legacy of love and joy we share, can offer the soft glow of candlelight when all our power has gone out. When life feels too messy, complicated, and bruised.
When we feel hopeless to carry on, we can look to the light of others and know we are not alone.
Loved Ones.
Who are the helpers in your life? Whose wisdom or touch has carried you through your most difficult days?
Write it down.
Tighten the threads of connection in your mind and heart.
Lastly, can you become someone who helps others? Who catches your neighbor or co-worker or long-distance cousin when they need a safety net?
Let’s create the world we want to live in, one day at a time.
Check out their poem, “Make My Name.”