ChelsiI wrote this blog two months ago. I apologize for the delay in posting. Life happened :).
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Survival is not a solo sport. My whole life has taught me this, beginning with my loving upbringing.
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My parents had me accidently just 12 months after their first beautiful accident- my sister.
My mom was 22 years old. My dad was 24 years old. By today’s standards, they were kids.
Mom and Dad worked full time making ends meet. Mom worked during the day with a one hour commute each way. Dad worked night shift. They worked hard.
Thank goodness for me and Sis, they didn’t do it alone. Both sets of grandparents and one set of great-grandparents lived within miles of us.
Many of my meals were Grandma-made (except the mac and cheese, Papa made that) and served around the table after chores were done.
Many of my days were spent on those farms- with my cousins, the animals, and nature.
While my young parents were busy, I never felt like anyone was too busy or too distracted for me. Wherever I was, I was loved. I am thankful to my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles for this. They showed me this early: Survival is not done alone.
Next up- school. We can all attest that we need a village to get through this part.
The best school systems have a plethora of supports in place to enhance the development of all kinds of little humans. We people are all so different. I love this about us.
In school, I was encouraged to join groups that went out of their way to help others- mission trips, an annual bike-a-thon to raise funds for MS research, becoming a Big Sister in the Big Brothers Big Sisters Program, or doing trash pick-ups.
In our youth, looking out for others (strangers or not) was encouraged and applauded. We were expected to learn this important lesson- survival is not a solo sport.
And then, there were group activities and team sports.. the thing that “keeps em out of trouble.” Yes, it did that well enough, except when I started kissing boys in the back of the bus.
Besides bus seat shenanigans, sports also taught me that the best teams are diverse teams. Our basketball team needed six foot Jenny as well as five foot me. We also needed the good-humored bench to balance the seriousness of the starters; morale was good that way.
Especially in the tumultuous teen years- survival requires a village.
As I write this now- I am a 36 year old adult… life happens fast.
I woke up this morning on March 20th in our boathouse after the obligatory March snowstorm.
The trees were artfully sprinkled with a wet white shine. The sun was shining bright through the big windows as the birds continued to migrate north. The trumpeter swans woke me with their distinct bugles- a sound so beautiful, it will bring me to sobbing tears at the right time of the month.
I watch as the swans fly in their purposeful V-shaped pattern. I adore them for how they track north each year like this. I wonder if the same swan stays in front for the whole of the trip. No, I think, impossible, they would need to rotate. The leader would tire out.
Birds flying in a V-formation do this as a way of conserving energy. It is called “drafting”. They ride the updrafts of birds ahead. Together, they reduce drag and improve the efficiency of their migratory flight. So, yes, the bird in front must rotate.
Every bird in the flock is essential to the success of the whole. To work together is the only way to make it home. The birds know this.
I watch the swans in awe. If only humanity could humble themselves to behave like this. We could be beautiful too.
Survival is not a solo sport. The swans are not the only ones that have taught me this. Nature has repeated this precious virtue in every nook and cranny of her being.
Did you know that trees and plants share nutrients, knowledge, and experiences through something called “mycelium”? A whole forest can be connected by these fungal strands called “hyphae” that as a whole may also be called a “mycorrhizal network”.
It is plausible to believe that before vast areas were clear-cut by humans, all of the country’s forests could be connected- sharing nitrogen, phosphorous, water, carbon, or sugar.
There is also evidence that plants can transmit distress signals to each other, helping to facilitate where to send nutrient resources or advising other plants to release compounds that deter incoming threats such as pests or disease.
There are even “Mother Trees” (a term coined by Dr. Suzanne Simard) who bring in the majority of nutrients and send those resources to smaller neighboring trees.
Why this stuff was not taught to me in school, I will never know. It is the most applicable and inspiring stuff I have ever known.
There is evidence like this all over our natural world.
Mother Nature is an excellent teacher if only her students will get our heads out of our phones and pay attention.
In nature, biodiversity is the ideal. Repeatedly, humans have tried to eliminate this. For example, we have done it in the agricultural practice of monocropping- planting one crop in the same place every year. This has led to decreased resistence to pests and disease and has depleted soil nutrients and life.
Unhealthy soil prone to disease and pests demands more inputs- pesticides and fungicides that further throw off the natural balance.
Good soil is alive and full of fungi, bacteria, bugs, worms, etc. Left together and undisrupted, soil does it’s best work. Even in dirt, survival is not a solo sport.
Having traveled to 6 of the 7 continents (Sorry Antartica, I’m sure you’re lovely.) and having worked at the bedside in three different hospitals, I feel like I’ve gotten a pretty good look at humanity.
Based on my normal but vast interactions, I can easily say that yes, this world is better because we’re all here- every different one of us.
In opening my heart to humanity, I’ve seen the good stuff and the hard stuff. I’ll be honest- the exposure has intermittently wrecked my mental health… but that is a blog post for another time.
The point I’d like to make is that we are better together. I’ve experienced this personally, professionally, and spiritually. I’ve experienced this from the moment I was accidently made.
I am largely off of social media now (except to share an occasional blog such as this), and to be honest, it has been a delight.
I see that our government has been shutting out allies, even insulting them for entertainment. I see that the people who take care of our biodiversity are having their humble jobs eliminated by billionaire men who have probably never set foot in a trout stream.
To see these kinds of actions tolerated goes against every fiber of what I know and love. I’m in no mood to filter through that nonsense more than I have to. Also, less media = less distraction = more living. Hence- less social media.
Perhaps, like most good and noble revolutions, we will have to start from the ground up and remind each other over and over again, that together, we are people that care and are still and forever a part of an entire world that belongs to all of us. We are so much better that way.
Survival is not a solo sport.
