In our society we are constantly ‘connected’, tweets, snaps, likes, comments and scrolling through people’s lives and feel like we know what’s going on for them, from a few curated images they choose to depict their lifestyle. Pile the electronic load work emails, messages and poor response time to text messages from our long suffering friends. We feel guilty, tell ourselves that we are “busy” and make empty promises to catch up soon..
Bring that into our homes. The person at the other end of the table; are we really listening to what they are saying? Or do we just hear what we want. How are we connecting, communicating with our kids, parents and elders? Do we make the time to connect and do something that it’s important to them? Likewise, do we take the time to connect within, what is important for us in a given time or moment? Do we need sleep? How can we better connect with what we need?
I offer my own insight for examination this week. I work 8-9 hour days, 4 days a week for an employer, run a business (every single role) 7 days a week, am currently studying and have 3 kids and a VERY capable husband who helps A LOT. I tell myself I am busy. I am busy. I fit a lot into my week. I train too. I wake up at 6:30am a few times a week to ensure that I make it work.
I still create excuses too. It became apparent this week when my 17 y/o received a hand delivered card from her Great Pop (a few generations of young parents).
Nan Scotland died earlier this year, aged 85. My ex-husbands grandparents, I remained very close with them despite the divorce over 10 years ago and had not seen Pop since the funeral. Well over 6 months, the Happy Birthday card with a simple message to say that he missed us, had both my daughter and I in tears.
We visited him today.
I took some Byron Bay cookies & berries and had our little brunch just like we used to when Nan was alive. Her slippers by the door, as they had always been, I sat on their plush rug that I had many times before; in the 18 + years of being family and we talked about our lives. He shared stories of courting Nan and we flicked through albums. He talked of their adventures to the Prom, of hiking and camping and shared his adventurous pursuits.
His eyes lit up when I talked of the business I had created and reflected on the years that had passed him in a blink of an eye.
A fit man of 84 years, he wept as he spoke of his love for Nan. The love notes of his he’d found that she kept in her handbag, their years together and creating a family, one that I was very much still apart of, her last words “ I Love you” as she took her last breaths. He shared these with us, Tiana and I wept with him as we held him, held space for him to feel the full range of emotions. The three of us were so energically connected in that moment of sadness, of reflection and love.
My anxiety at times is my own self perpetuated, success driven ego. I have BIG dreams and I am working bloody hard to achieve them. I also recognise that I need to stop, connect and listen to what others are truly saying. Not necessarily with their words but with their actions.
Humans feed of emotional energy of other humans. We need to connect. Be in the same space, feel together and bond. We are pack animals and must run with the wolves!
How are you making the time to connect?
Amanda x
