“Once in a while I return to the fold of people I
call my own.”
If ever you should find yourself adrift in a moment
you can’t put words to, I guarantee there is a Finn lyric that will do the job.
The beautifully simple piece of lyrical mastery
above, which has always stayed with me (as good songwriting should), is
from a 2006 Finn Brothers song called Won’t Give In. To me, this is
about the way our most treasured humans anchor us in time and space, shaping
our sense of identity and shoring up our sense of purpose. Last week I returned
to my homeland and spent a delicious week with family and friends, and I
observed, not for the first time, the effect that being in their presence had
on the rhythm of my heart. I felt lighter, I felt held. I remembered how much
the humans around me make me want to be a better human.
And then I remembered that some of the people who
make me a better human are not among my inner sanctum. Actually, some of the
people who’ve taught me the most are people I wish I’d never met.
Instagram, that dubious temple of modern
spirituality, is rife with quotes about the importance of spending time with
the ‘right’ people. Your vibe attracts your tribe! Surround yourself
with people who lift you up! Unfollow people in real life! These
snappy catchphrases are all helpful... but also unhelpful, I think, because
they implore you to judge people’s inherent worth (which rather undermines that
whole spirituality ethos, no?) What’s more, they don’t account for the fact that it’s not always possible to ditch the people who don’t behave in ways you want or expect (particularly
if you live with said people), and that many of those folks have probably
been brought into your life for a reason.
Look, people are dicks sometimes. And that’s not a
bad thing. Because dickery (prob not a real word, but let’s go with it) can
teach us plenty. The bloke who pulled out from a side street in front of you
teaches you why being considerate on the roads is important, and why you need
to pay more attention while driving. The workmate who took credit for your
efforts teaches you why it’s important to acknowledge people’s achievements,
and that you need to make your boss more aware of your contribution. The date
who never called you back teaches you why it’s important to treat people fairly,
and what you’re *not* looking for in a partner. Yes, it would be ideal if these
people weren’t in your orbit – but that’s not how the Universe works. Mostly it
gives you the people you need, not the people you want (although, I am sure,
you have plenty of those in your life too).
Law of attraction pioneer Louise Hay believes that
the reason certain people annoy us is because they remind us of aspects of
ourselves we find uncomfortable. I have found this to be true in many cases.
About five years ago while reading You Can Heal Your Life, I had a
friend who constantly interrupted people, made bitchy comments behind people’s
backs and engaged in one-upmanship. You may wonder why I was friends with this
person. (I wonder that too, actually.) She was part of a group of girls I’d
been close with since university days and I felt a sense of loyalty to her.
Even so, I often found her behaviour infuriating, until (after reading Louise’s
insight) I realised how many times I did the same shitty things. Ouch. I, too, interrupted others. I definitely gossiped about my friends. And a tendency towards
competitiveness, driven by a fear of lack, is one of my least attractive
qualities. Even
though this girl is no longer my friend, I consider her one of my teachers
because she spotlighted areas I needed to address in order to become a better
person – and ultimately showed me how I didn’t want to live. I’m not
saying I don’t occasionally do these things still, but I’m getting pretty good at calling myself out when I do.
Think about the person who is really grinding your
gears at the moment, and ask yourself honestly whether you are replicating
their behaviour or attitude in some way, even at a low level. This won’t always prove
to be the case – and it certainly doesn’t excuse their bad behaviour – but if
you realise that they are mirroring you in some way, that may help diffuse your
anger slightly and help you look at the situation (and yourself) differently.
You don’t have to put up with irritating, inconsiderate or just plain rude behaviour but
if it’s not possible for you to cut someone out of your life, reflecting on
what you can learn from the situation might make it more tolerable.
Above all else, what can be most helpful is
remembering that we are all dicks sometimes. I know I am. Happily, when human
contact becomes too exhausting, you can always return to the fold of people you
call your own. And you should, as often as you can.
For me, the best part about getting older is no longer
giving a shit. So many of my choices when I was younger revolved around concern
for what other people thought of me. In my teen years I used to suppress my
laugh because I thought it was too loud and embarro (!). In
my 20s I stumbled around in high heels, even though I lack the poise and
coordination to walk gracefully in them, because I thought that that was what I was
supposed to do. Now I wear ballet flats all the way (yay comfort!). These are only small
examples but they illustrate ways that I no longer care about the ‘shoulds’ and
the ‘musts’. This, for me, has been the single greatest joy of ageing – learning
to follow the beat of my own heart.