A problem I think faces people lately is that everyone wants a village, but no one wants to be a villager. The phrase has become fairly popular online recently as a way to criticise that many people nowadays crave community, yet no one is willing to pay the price of inconvenience. An interesting article I read on Dazed called Is inconvenience the cost of community?, points out the question, ultimately 'what do we owe each other?', and how often should we put others and their needs over our own. This, naturally, has prompted many to share contradicting advice.
This way of thinking didn't come out of nowhere. Psychotherapist Eloise Allexia argues that technology is the root cause. According to her, technology has contributed to our isolated and sanitised lives, "moving us away from social spaces and in-person interactions, and towards our own private spaces". She says we should 'take heed of ramifications' [pay attention to the complex consequences of an event]. She warns, with reference to a Harvard study, that the quality of our relationships is actually more important than good genetics in helping us to live longer and happier lives. The study makes clear that loneliness kills — and it's as damaging as smoking or alcoholism. Allexia says that "While it might feel good to step back from social situations in the short term, it can lead to longer-term challenges," and that "community delivers so many benefits, such as emotional guidance and support, reduced stress, boosted mental health, and an overall feeling of safety.
I will say, do think it's important to practice health boundaries, and learning to enjoy time alone. However, these recent surges in 'protecting your peace' feel almost like an overcorrection, promoting avoidance, rather than being a tool for healthier connection. If we cut ourselves out by avoiding conflict and only chasing comfort, we end up limiting ourselves to very superficial connections, ones that simply echo our own selves. Part of what makes our lives so rich is the diversity of thoughts, ones that come from more than just ourselves. How can we learn from our mistakes or broaden our mindset if we aren't open to the help from those around us? People are lonelier than ever, yet no one sees the connection between that and the refusal to bear each other and their quirks, struggles, or the inconvenience which may come. In other words: everyone wants a village, but no one wants to be a villager.
That also doesn't mean that you should burn yourself out or that to should withstand pain and abuse. It's simply recognising that with interpersonal relationships come nuances. Healthy boundaries are important, but they shouldn't be isolating. Boundaries should create the conditions to connect authentically. There is and should be space in our lives to care for ourselves, while also caring for our community. They shouldn't be seen as opposites. Part of being a social creature is tolerating some social friction or disturbances to your routine, while also removing yourself from harmful situations.
Community isn't meant to be convenient or efficient. Truly belonging somewhere may often ask you to rearrange your schedule, work through differences, or remain patient when it might be easier to just walk away. That inconvenience, however, is an investment — because what we get in return is a deeper connection and sense of shared humanity. The safety that comes with not having to carry life and all its burdens alone.
Friendship isn't always convenient, and that's okay.
Friendship means making room for a whole new human. It's accommodating for someone else's life, their schedule, and being there for the big and little moments. Friendship, we seem to often forget, is a privilege, not a right. It requires effort, attentiveness, care, and love.
When I let you into my life, I accept the "burden" of making room in my life for you. When I say "burden", it's meant more as the knowingness of inconveniencing myself if it means I get the privilege of your company. If I only have one free day this week, even if I want to spend it alone in bed, I would like to water the plant of our friendship more.
I really think we need to be better at showing up for our friends. The internet has really taken the word 'boundary' and just run with it. As I said earlier, we have lost the true meaning of a boundary. Boundaries should help protect yourself without hurting the other person. Boundaries are not skipping a friend's birthday dinner because you're too tired.
Remember, being a good friend is just as important as being a good partner. And, its a SKILL. Anyone can get better at it, a muscle you can work on.
As always, I am quick to criticise technology and the modern world (would it be a rant without one?). Social media artificially creates communities which are so low-effort to participate in. The situation is a little bit 'chicken or the egg', but social media plays a big role.
You follow your friend's stories, so you no longer have those common points of conversation on 'what did you do this weekend?', ' what have you been up to lately' that would lead to more conversation and connection. Even though it may seem like you are connected, you really aren't, so you end up losing track of maintaining that connection in a way that is much easier than if you were interacting directly regularly. Another issue regarding social media is the 24/7 access to passive news and extremely sensitive internet spaces. This has people constantly expanding their emotional energy on things that, yes, should be a small focus for awareness for voting and donating, but instead burns our compassion in global news, so we don't have energy for the local communities that do touch us and which we participate in.
It also seems that the internet has depersonalised humanity for many people. It's not exactly a coincidence that many people experience main character syndrome as they unconsciously believe that everyone on the other side of the screens is are NPCs, as they only see highlight reels of their life through social media, or their words in a comment. They no longer learn/have the patience, grit, or other social skills that they are held accountable for their actions or how to hold other people accountable in the same way that the pre-phone era was. As a result, many people feel freer to say whatever they want, or to be total dicks to each other. This mindset is also leaking into society at large, because people spend more time digitally communicating rather than being in person with people.
Naturally, this is also deeply rooted in capitalism. Essays in Love by Alain de Botton proposes that love is deeply influenced by the economic structure around us. Today, in a capitalist society, the way we perceive love has been shaped by the transactional, self-interested, and individualistic forces of capitalism. De Botton writes, “We are all seeking someone to carry our hopes and dreams. But in doing so, we often forget that love is less about what the other person can provide us, and more about how we manage to coexist within the realities of everyday life.” Whether consciously or not, capitalism, with its emphasis on competition and individual gain, teaches us to look at relationships as a transaction. We evaluate a partner based on what they can bring into our lives, similarly to how we evaluate products or investments.
The idea of love as a commodity — something that can be gained, or lost — is a significant consequence of capitalism. When we view relationships like this, they become a negotiation of needs and desires, while also losing sight of the emotional depth that lies beneath. This is also backed by the pressure to be successful, attractive, and desirable, which is thereby heightened by a capitalist culture that is built on comparison and consumerism. De Bottom communicates that “The modern idea of love involves looking for a person who can meet a dizzying array of expectations — romantic, intellectual, sexual, financial. The notion that one person could fulfil all these roles is not only improbable but also a reflection of how capitalism encourages us to seek ultimate satisfaction in every domain.”
This has naturally led to the commodification of love. This is also deeply rooted in philosophy. Take Karl Marx and Max Weber. They have long commented on the effects of capitalism on human relationships. Marx's concept of 'commodity fetishism' —where social relations between individuals are mediated by commodities — can be applied here. Love becomes commodified and packaged into something that can be consumed or possessed.
“Real love is a process of mutual recognition, of learning to coexist with another human being in all their complexity, rather than a pursuit of some idealized version of happiness.”
No comments:
Post a Comment