People Power, Too

When the world seems to be too much for me, I am tempted to curl up on my couch and slip down a Netflix rabbit hole. After the news makes my heart rate climb, it is not my worst move to tune into a heaping, delicious serving of "Top Chef." I'm sure I'm not alone in this, the habit of finding comfort watching chefs whip up scrumptious eats (or UConn basketball, re-runs of The Office, etc.). I fully understand that I need to remain vigilant and informed of what's happening around the world, but I also know I need to hang on to my well-being by switching frequencies and dialing up things like joy, the pursuit of excellence, beauty, and compassion. And I need to laugh, so thank God for easy access to clips of Will Ferrell and Nate Bargatze.

At other times, I take deep comfort in intentional solitude outdoors. Whether I'm on a run or knee deep in a river fly fishing (always releasing - not always catching), I am made more whole in ways that defy comprehension but are clear and real. Part of what I learn again and again during such outings is that I am part of something massive and glorious, bound together by God's goodness. It always feels restorative to revisit my identity as a sibling of maples, fresh snow, brown trout, all of it. Somehow, choosing to be alone and outside affirms that I am never alone, it strengthens my sense of oneness with all I can see and beyond. 

This interconnectedness is also brought home for me, of course, in experiences of community including Sunday mornings. I have been thinking and reading quite a bit about how we as a species have radically reduced the time we spend together. While "solitude expresses the glory of being alone," wrote theologian Paul Tillich, "loneliness expresses the pain of being alone." While solitude evidently has an important role in our peace of mind, I am more convinced than ever that we also require literal face time and human interaction to enhance our well-being. Oxytocin and dopamine offer helpful evidence supporting the value of being with other people, but there is surely something deep and beyond language that we find in good groups with fellow humans. Without dismissing our need for solitude, we can celebrate the fact that being together holds power. 

This is particularly true for me when the world seems askew. I have learned that it can be just as healing and sometimes more so if I choose interaction and community over a sitcom binge (especially if the watching comes with eating an entire bag of kettle corn). During gut-wrenching weeks like last week, getting out of myself and into a room full of like-minded friends and allies delivers a potent reminder that I am loved, loving, and not adrift. When people are willing to be vulnerable with each other, doing so leads inevitably to a greater collective strength, better ideas, and shared hope that is a true force: people power.

My hope for you is one I hold for myself: that we will find a balance of solo time and community through which we are made more whole. I know that when I am restored through practices of both solitude and shared space and time, I am better equipped to love well.