Who Are Your People?

I’ve been thinking about how frequently I experience the gift of care and connection from someone in my life at exactly the moment I needed support. I wouldn’t consider myself to have a wide social circle, yet when I pay attention, I notice the links of caring. 

A couple invited me for a visit, and the visit turned into a two hour sharing of stories and experiences that helped me feel companioned in a family crisis.

A friend I see only every other month or so expressed empathy when she heard I was having a hard day, and simply her saying, “It’s been a tough one for me, too” lightened my heart.

An acquaintance I haven’t seen in almost a year sent an email to let me know I was being thought of with fondness.

A new friend took me out for coffee, and our getting-to-know-you conversation brought laughter and empathy in equal measure.

Each encounter was different. The quality of relationship with each one is very different. And yet, I would say without hesitation that each of these individuals is one of “my people”.

As a person who doesn’t often seek out social connection, these experiences reminded me of the value of knowing who my people are, and the importance of nurturing these connections.

Western culture has taught us that being independent and self-sufficient is our goal, that not needing others is a trait to be admired. Indigenous cultures, on the other hand, teach that our strength is in interdependence, that our connections with others helps us all meet the storms of life and expands our experiences of joy.

Recently I watched a documentary on the rewilding of a river valley in the Pacific Northwest previously controlled by a series of hydroelectric dams. Through a partnership among industry, indigenous communities, and environmental scientists, the dams were removed and the river allowed to return to its original path. Without any impediment to their journey, the salmon began to resume their historical migration upriver to spawn. As the salmon increased, songbirds who fed on salmon roe also began to multiply, and their feeding habits then spread seeds of wildflowers and other vegetation which thrived along the riverbank. This created feeding areas which brought deer and other wildlife back to the river.

I was enthralled with the interplay among the various species, animal and vegetative alike. The thriving of one species brought nutrients that created a chain of flourishing throughout the valley.

So it is in our human relationships. As we learn to tend our own hearts and souls, we feel our need for connection to others. This is a fundamental need hardwired into our species. An abundance of social research shows that “people who have strong connections with others are happier, healthier, and better able to cope with the stresses of every day life.” (Relational-Cultural Theorist Judith Jordan, quoted in Atlas of the Heart, by Brene Brown, PhD.)

When life gets hard, (and let’s be honest—no one could claim that we’re not living in a time of universal “hard” personally and culturally) we tend to withdraw. We tell ourselves that we need to “get it together” before we connect with others. The truth is that it is our connections with others that helps us remember our own strength and resilience. We aren’t meant to make life’s journey alone.

My experience of late has shown me the value of each of my personal connections. I am blessed to have two friends with whom I can whine, rant or celebrate, as the case requires. Both of them are always available for a deep dive into emotional terrain, or an exchange of silliness. But they aren’t the only connections that feed my heart and soul. Another friend texts me periodically with a picture of her toddler, knowing how much I enjoy small humans. Yet another checks in every once in a while to ask how I’m doing. As I’ve begun paying attention to the many ways in which my life connects with others, I’ve become aware of the colourful mosaic that has formed, like a piece of intricately detailed stained glass art.

In this moment, even though it has been several days since I’ve spoken with any of these wonderful people, just remembering them brings a lift to my heart. I can feel their affection for me, like the sunshine of a perfect summer morning.

I invite you to consider—who are your people? Who are the ones you know you could call at any time, for any reason? Also, who are the ones whose life touches yours more lightly, and yet still in a way that brings warmth and delight? Who can you reach out to today, just to remind yourself (and perhaps them as well) of the care that runs between you?