It Takes a Village – Part II…or How to Find Your Village
Now where am I to find this “village” you ask…?
You’re probably in a hurry, I’ll sum up. Your village will find you…if you’re paying attention…and that’s the hard part. Let’s back up…
Our “villages” are no longer made up of shamans, bakers, and fish mongers who ply their trades within a reasonable walk of our huts. In the modern world, we come into contact with ideas from hundreds of sources constantly. The internet is literally a network of connections. There is no richer source of tribes and villages. Think of every app and blog, every tweet you read (or send). These are all sources of content—tenants of a virtual village. Then there is Book Club, the Farmers Market, Saturday morning running club, and the Sunday services. Not to mention perhaps the most accessible connections, those you’ll make at home, work, and school.
The challenge isn’t finding your village. The challenge is having the discipline to eliminate the noise and honor your village. As someone who reaches for her iPhone before getting out of bed, I’m the first to admit this can be daunting.
I recently read an article explaining how to keep clutter down in your home. The gist of the article was to subject all items in your space to this test: Does it bring you joy? If not, you’re encouraged to pitch it. Get it out of your way.
I would suggest we need to do the same with content. If it doesn’t bring value, do not engage.
Disposing of virtual clutter is both easier and more difficult than disposing of actual clutter. When you read something on your “device of choice” that it doesn’t bring you joy, elevate your thinking, or compel you to courageous action; you can ignore, un-like, or X out of it, right? Simple. But with notification alerts at the ready, this virtual world exists as a “hot media” generating complete engagement on the part of the reader without any considerable stimulus.1
Facebook attracts our attention and holds it precisely because it is so easy to engage with and demands so little of us. And when it has engaged our attention, we form a temporary attachment that is difficult to sever. Intermittent reinforcement prevails. Sometimes, what we find there feeds us and so we keep searching for more. As the quality of content suffers, so suffers the reader. This brings a new idea. A village of value by degree.
The most content rich deliverers in my village are actual people. There is simply no substitute for a connection made in person. The feeling of being deeply seen and understood is powerful and nourishing.
Yet in-person connection is not always feasible. People are busy. Time set aside to connect comes at a cost. So we settle for virtual—emailing, texting, and the occasional luxurious phone call.
Further removed by degrees, we follow people on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Until the richness is depleted, and the connection is an illusion. Even the people we engage with in person (remember the Book Club and Farmers Market) require the necessary forum and permissions to connect with us in meaning-filled ways.
And what about books and blogs? Or my voracious appetite for podcasts while I run? I believe they have their place; not as a substitute for authentic connection but as reinforcement. I need to hear things many times before I internalize them. Rich content helps me do that.
So, where does this leave us?
For me, I had to own that I needed help in this life. I am simply better with you. Perhaps that is implied in the topic, but a conscious awareness of it is fundamental. Then I needed to concede that help comes most powerfully from sources with whom I’ve cultivated an actual connection. I had to start practicing the discipline of creating a fertile environment for those connections to take root.
It helped me to start simple. It’s easier to reach out when I’m not looking down (I’ve turned off some notifications on my phone.) Next, I needed to prioritize connecting in person. I still struggle with this. But, making time and saying our truth are essential to connecting. By doing these things, I give the village permission to help raise me.
I risk. I trust. I change. I grow. And when true connection exists, the village benefits, too. There is an African proverb that says, if you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.
Life is a journey. Let’s go far.
- Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, Marshall McLuhan.
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