From Feeling Alone to Interdependence: A Practice for Belonging

This world we live in is so incredibly beautiful and magical and yet, for those of us who feel alone, the world can seem overwhelming, hostile, oppressive, and scary. One of the greatest pains is feeling as if you are all alone in this world, like no one understands or sees you, even when you are surrounded by others. This pain is often compounded when you feel that you have to wear masks or hide your true self for fear of being shunned or abandoned or even out of fear for your physical safety. 

This sense of being alone is often prevalent among those of us who are working to create a better world. Often there is a sense that we are solely responsible for doing the important work we feel is needed. Or we feel such a pressure to do all that we can because time is of the essence, that we forgo the pleasures of life, including connection with others. In this, we lose our sense of belonging.

The antidote to feeling alone is to remember our interdependence. Acknowledging our innate connection to all Life helps us to feel loved and supported. Below, is a simple practice for belonging which is useful for remembering our interdependence and connection.

The Biology of Belonging

Humans are communal Beings. Unlike some species, we are defenseless when we are born. It takes us many years until we are able to adequately care for ourselves. Our survival is dependent on one another. We have a biological need for belonging. Therefore, feeling alone is traumatizing.

Yet, our society pushes the myth of independence and the lone cowboy, making it seem that depending on others, even simply for companionship, is weakness. The mythology of the lone cowboy has many impacts, including: separating us from each other makes it easier to control us. We forget the power that we have when we come together. It also plays on our innate fear of abandonment and encourages othering, furthering our separation. When we feel that we are in competition with each other to receive limited resources, our survival is threatened, we can play weird games to show that we are more worthy than others to receive these crumbs. All of which fosters our sense of being alone, not able to trust or depend on anyone.

I have been blessed with meeting so many incredible people who are creating a better world for all. Often as I talk with these changemakers, I learn of more people doing things that I would never even imagine. Each person is following their Heart, sharing their gifts. I am reminded that we each only need to do our part, our calling, no matter how small. If I ever feel alone in this work, I stop, pause, and remember the amazing people I have met. Or sometimes I will look for others who are doing wonderful things. I recognize this sense of aloneness as part of the design to make us feel powerless. I can look around and see the beauty and shifts that we have already created. We have already changed the world. (And yes, there is more that is needed.)

Remembering our Interdependence

As we heal and become conscious, we recognize our interdependence with all Beings. Awakening to our inherent connection with our more-than-human kin, reminds us that we are never alone. We are loved and supported more than we can imagine. Our breath comes from Plants (including those in the ocean). Our bodies are fueled and shaped by the Beings that we eat. Our survival and ability to thrive are dependent on our more-than-human kin. We too support their survival and prosperity, if we choose too.

Sometimes I like to play a game of interdependence that was inspired by a conversation I had with a “dead” Hemlock Tree, which I share about in Communicating with Plants.

I look at a Tree and I try to see all the Beings who are part of ki*: the Moss and Lichens growing on the Tree, the Birds nesting in the Tree, the Ants climbing up the trunk, the Mycelium intermingled with ki’s roots . . . As I do this, I see that everything is interconnected more than we realize. It is difficult to determine where the Tree ends and another begins. (We could do the same with our own bodies, as we contain a Universe.)

A Practice for Belonging

Earlier this year, as I was saying a blessing for my food, I began to think about all of the Beings who contributed to my meal: the animals, the Plants, the sun, the rain, the devas, the mycelium, the air, the ocean, the humans, the minerals . . . and then I started thinking about the Ancestors of these Beings and the many contributions throughout the centuries that allowed this food to arrive at my table. As I did, I moved into a place of connection, of belonging, and of deep, deep gratitude and reverence.

I have since changed my mealtime prayer to include this practice. When I eat Corn, I think about the ancient Ancestors who worked with Teosinte to create the many varieties of Corn and those Ancestors who travelled sharing the seeds of their unique varieties with others, while these varieties in turn were changed by the new lands. While eating Olives, I think about the people of Palestine and the generations of Ancestors who loved that Land and the Olive Trees. With my gratitude, I send my Love to the Palestinians praying that they too are able to eat a delicious meal, safe in their homes, surrounded by their family. As I eat Salmon, I think about the Karuk, Klamath, and other Indigenous peoples who have honored and protected the Salmon for thousands of years. I give Love and gratitude to the Waters who surround the Salmon and the Coastal Redwoods who create safe habitats for the Salmon while also being nourished by them.

Food is powerful, literally ki fuels our lives. Food evokes memories and emotions. And with just a little effort of curiosity, food makes visible the threads of connection and interdependence throughout time. We suddenly see how our well-being is dependent on the well-being of so many and vice versa. We move into a place of belonging.

Changing my prayer has had a profound impact on my life. I soon realized that I needed to limit my prayer or I could spend days giving gratitude to all the Beings who contributed to the food I was about to eat. I offer this practice to you as a way of both honoring the Beings who nourish you and also as a way of remembering your place in this beautiful web of Love and belonging.

---

* ki is an animistic, genderless third person pronoun which recognizes the aliveness of our more-than-human kin. To the best of my knowledge, in her book Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer was the first to suggest using ki.