Family, Community, Tribe
Once upon a time, family, community and tribe were all one and the same – the extended family was the community and communities within proscribed land were the tribe. Three concentric circles. Not any more.
(With thanks to my daughter, Anna Rowntree, for the use of the image of her self made logo for her business: www.subtlestrengthyoga.de)
Family
I recently returned from being with my daughter and her family in Germany – not my land, not my tribe or community but very definitely my beloved ones. When my children lived at home with me, we were a family, looking towards each other for intimacy and belonging – an inner circle. With my son dead and my daughter 1000 miles away in another country, what has become of my family? When my grandson was born, even before he was born, my place shifted subtly and irrevocably. My daughter, her partner and their child were the inner circle, looking towards each other. I, as grandmother, now stood outside and behind them, part of a circle of support, holding, trusting, protecting and loving unconditionally, this newly forming family. I belong there and I have a valued role which I treasure.
Community
After my recent time in Germany, I returned to my community, the place I call home, a place where I offer my skills and my friendship though not my kinship. I run groups and walk my dog, pop in on neighbours and watch Strictly on the television. The land did not grow me, my ancestors did not live here nor even visit, but it is land which supports and nourishes me, the people are precious and I have a place here. I belong– for now.
Tribe
My tribe are spread far and wide, in all four corners of the British Isles and beyond to the other side of the world. Many of us are good friends, others don’t even know me personally but I recognise them. What is the recognition? Like a language of the heart. Like an understanding, an ability to see one another, an acceptance and honouring of difference whilst perceiving the deeper commonality. Like a blossoming. Like a belonging
Belonging
Belonging, there’s the thread.
A friend, one of my tribe, gave me a book some years ago about belonging. I have tried valiantly and unsuccessfully to read it, dissolving into grief at every chapter. Where did I belong? Nowhere. To whom did I belong, my parents dead, my soul mate dead, my children dead or flown? No-one. I was just a tourist, a temporary visitor, rootless and pointless.
Transformation
What transformation has happened, that I now feel embraced, embedded into my life and with a place here – geographically, purposefully, chronologically? There are so many ways to answer that question, but below are a few of my thoughts, in no way definitive.
- I prayed. Not a pretty prayer, not religious, not even verbal, but a core, gut wrenching, authentic longing, called out to the What Is.
- I haven’t run away from the pain of loss. On the contrary, I have given it my full attention, taken care of it and allowed it to lead me where I have needed to go.
- In the absence of a partner to devote myself to and make a priority (also read ‘excuse for why I can’t …. fill in the blank) I have had to take full responsibility for my own life and do with it what is true for me.
- I have accepted, out of necessity, love and help from others – family, community and tribe. And god bless the land, the trees and the rivers where I live.
- As I have healed, I have opened my heart and given my love where it is called for.
- I have allowed myself to be vulnerable – like now, writing this blog – and it touches people’s hearts. Only the heart, I think, can ever forge or feel belonging.
I am no longer a rootless tourist. I have heart to heart connections in the most unexpected places. I nourish and support and am nourished and supported. I hold and protect and love; and I too am held, protected and loved. It might be invisible, it isn’t unreal.
Mycorrhizal network
What I understand is, not only are there circles, there is also a network, much like, perhaps, the one discovered between trees, who communicate and support one another via the mycorrhyzal network. It feels to me as though there is a symbiotic network of belonging, moving out in all directions, tethering me into this precious place of belonging, even as family, community and tribe remain fluid.
Some of you reading this I know personally, some of you I don’t. I hope that what I write offers to everyone, some form of ‘heartful connection’.
With love
Nickie
NEWS
I’d like to share a poem with you that someone shared with me this week. I love it’s quirkiness and hopefulness. It reminds me of the Buddhist practice of Tonglen, but somehow more accessible.
WAGE PEACE Wage peace with your breath. Breathe in firemen and rubble, Breathe out whole buildings and flocks of redwing blackbirds. Breathe in terrorists and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields. Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees. Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact. Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud. Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers. Make soup. Play music, memorize the word for thank you in three languages. Learn to knit, and make a hat. Think of chaos as dancing raspberries, imagine grief as the out breath of beauty or the gesture of fish. Swim for the other side. Wage peace. Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious: Have a cup of tea … and rejoice. Act as if armistice has already arrived. Celebrate today Judyth Hill – September 11, 2021
I will put this poem on my For Peace page. Which reminds me, please do send me peace offerings of your own. And also, would you let me know if you are using and enjoying the meditation. If so, I will put more on the page for you.
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