Allow me to examine the tribes I’m currently not a part of.
The Religious
Tribe
I’ve been lucky enough to see first-hand the positive
effects of several different religions on communities and individuals. The
common denominator of “do unto others” is so simple and obvious that it doesn’t
really even need religion to promote it. I sometimes wonder what the bonhomie
of boredom at a Sunday mass feels like, not to mention the faith that keeps the
scariest questions at bay. But try as I might, this tribe just doesn’t call out
to me.
The Social Tribe
I’m a loner at heart, an introvert who is easily drained by
social interaction (which ironically enough, I do for a living). I’ve been
labelled “aloof” and have been called a “cold fish”. I send out a vibe of don’t
come near and my ‘resting bitch face’ doesn’t help matters. The best social tribe for my type is an ex-pat
community. In my experience anyway, you belonged by just being in the town,
attended meetings by showing up at pubs without the torture of making plans,
and were insulated in a cosy, albeit oftentimes dull, bubble of English and
culture weariness. In Ireland, though I have lovely colleagues, they’ve got
their own well-established tribes. A lot of what they talk about sails over my
head. I am too slow and thick for their banter.
Where else does a married middle-aged woman find friends?
Wait, do I even want to be gossiping
in overpriced pubs, or having big chats about the latest book, or Lord help me,
going shopping with gal pals? Though
I’m generally much happier with a good book, running solo, or wandering the city streets
on my own, I do miss the occasional big chat.
The Family Tribe
I feel somewhat estranged from my family on both sides of my
biological fence. I’m not too stupid to realise that the common denominator of
these frosty relationships is me. I’m just not sure what to do about it, and my
irrational abhorrence of the telephone doesn’t help. I’m lucky to have S’s
family who have taken me into the fold. There was a time in the past that a
father would pay dearly in gold to foist a middle-aged daughter off onto a
foreign tribe and likely not see her again. In those times, a husband’s family
might be the woman’s only tribe. I’m ok with this but can’t help feeling guilty
given that it is 2015 A.D, not B.C. and I have the means and freedom to maintain
and build relationships with my Iowan family.
The ‘I’ve Found
Purpose’ Tribe
How did people announce their accomplishments before
facebook? Did they post signs in their living room windows exclaiming, “Got a
promotion!”; “Published my book!”; “Volunteered at the shelter today!” Facebook
makes it seem that everyone is doing exactly what they’ve always wanted and
feels “blessed” to be doing it.
I like my job. I get to discuss the finer points of grammar
for hours and wear jeans doing it. Meeting individual people from all over the
world has forced me to rid myself of stereotypes about countries, and I hope
through their interaction with me, they have a broader sense of what an “American”
is. Every day is a different lesson and a different topic and I can be as
creative and out of the box as I want or have time for.
But I can’t help thinking that there is more I ought to be
doing. Tutoring Syrian refugees? Writing the next great novel? Start an English
school through the medium of cooking? I am too much a consumer and not enough
of a producer. I need something that takes my focus off myself and I just don’t
know what that is. I want to be part of this tribe, but am too clueless about
how to get membership.
The Mother Tribe
Much like the Religious Tribe, if you are not in this tribe,
there is no possible way of understanding what it is like. You may
intellectually get the idea of falling in love at first sight with a new-born,
having your entire world perspective shift, and generally feeling less self-absorbed.
But you’ll never feel it. Exclusion from a group stings no less just because
the exclusion is self-imposed. And as the years pass and my eggs wither, I am
often paralyzed with the fear that it was the wrong choice. Would my life be
fuller, my marriage stronger with a blob that shares my DNA? But I always come
back to the same thought that having a baby because you’re bored is probably
not the best reason.
Tribes do matter. Deeper research into the
Mediterranean Diet and the Blue Zones has revealed that it isn’t just the diet
rich in veggies, legumes, grains, and little meat that leads to longevity, but
perhaps more importantly, the communities that people in these areas belong
to. Of the nine characteristics of
longevity highlighted in the book, four are not about diet and exercise:
engagement in spirituality, engagement in family, engagement in social life,
and life purpose.
Despite my mostly healthy eating and regular exercise, I
could be fucked.
But am I really? Here are the tribes I do belong to.
Tribe of One
Yesterday I had my first winter run. The air was dry and
crisp and the sunrise shades of pink only seen in the biting cold. No one but
the deer and myself breathing out clouds of steam. I felt so happy and alive, I
almost got a bit teary (or was that the cold?). I love being alone, especially
outside. I can still remember so vividly pre-dinner walks along the Iowa River
25 years ago in Marshalltown with my Walkman and solitude. Being alone is how I’ve
always re-charged and alone has never equated to lonely for me.
Tribe of Two
Being excited to be reunited with your favourite person day
after day has to be good for one’s overall health, doesn’t it? I love spending
time with my constant companion whether it be big adventures on oregano-filled
cliffs or watching “Fargo” and eating tacos. We laugh, commiserate, argue, and
console. There is no other person on this Earth who knows me as this person
does and that is deeply comforting.
Tribe of All
Maybe the reason I’m a bleeding heart liberal is because I
feel connected to everyone on some level. Of course the world should band
together and help Syrian refugees; the rich should be taxed to help the poor;
every country has some good guys and some assholes. I might not strike up a
conversation with the foul-smelling man sitting next to me on the bus, but I
won’t get up and walk away like the others and I won’t make assumptions. No one
here gets out alive and that knowledge must bond us somehow.
I am thankful for my steady for the moment job, my tiny
little apartment, my loving partner and his family, the rare bits of news from
my own family, my adventures to faraway places, my health. My life is full. But
I’m also at times empty, bored, dissatisfied and discouraged with where I’m at,
a little jealous of others, and uncertain about the future.
Everyone must feel this way at times, despite membership to
several tribes. Right? Maybe it’s not so much which tribes and how many but how
present you are, what you put in, and what you get out of it. As I go forward,
I’ll try to be more “mindful” of my few tribes and keep an open mind about
some of the others. Especially if there’s free cake. I’ll join any tribe for free cake.
