Never Eat Alone
“Business! Humankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”
We had just enjoyed a lovely Thanksgiving Day feast the day prior. A road trip out of town, together with family, which included a very rewarding experience in supporting disabled elderly relatives. Despite our geographical distance, we were blessed with the ability to hand-deliver a very yummy pre-prepared dinner in time for a cherished tradition. In the spirit of the holiday, there was much to be thankful for. Freedom to travel on our own time, and in our own vehicle; a nourishing meal of high caliber; and most of all, the ability to be together in person, and to enjoy each other a warm, safe, comfortable setting. Yet, something inside me felt very troubled.
While we were stressing about which restaurant would be able to meet our quality standards for our holiday, at that very same moment others in our community were stressing about whether they would even have a meal that day at all. While this is not a new problem, for whatever reason the potency of this injustice was really hitting me. Maybe it is the extended suffering people have endured during the pandemic, or maybe I finally allowed myself to feel the collective pain on a deeper level. Whatever it is, I found myself the day after our holiday feeling a strange mix of gratitude and distress. Through this lens I looked upon the list of to-do’s I had assembled for myself the days before, and saw the vast majority of activities focused on preserving and maintaining my own abundant life. Shopping, house projects, reviewing finances, and doing yoga were just a few. On their own, none of these activities are inherently bad. And, all of them can be viewed as constructive activities at a minimum. But, as I stared at my list, it was very apparent that something was missing. I couldn’t shake the image of a struggling family off of my mind, and I felt a strong urge to share my abundance with others in my community.
My attention shifted toward finding a way to actively contribute that day to neighbors in need. I knew that I didn’t need to look any further than right in my own backyard. I live in an urban neighborhood in a large American city, which holds a diverse economic population. Our neighborhood literally sees million-dollar homes on the same streets as lower-income rental units. Since we had the privilege of enjoying a hot meal, I felt compelled to offer the same to others. I scrambled in the moment to find a way to directly give that day in a very concrete way. After searching online a bit, I landed on a neighborhood resource center who was collecting non-perishable food for distribution to elderly and families in need. This was perfect: with more than enough food in my house, I could easily gather up items that we had and drop them off at the resource center. I spent the next several hours doing this, ultimately donating two large bins of food, beverages, and paper products for distribution to my neighbors.
There are many useful lessons to gain from cultures who have figured out how to make community well-being the purpose of life. In his book Bowling Alone, Robert Putnam studied the well-being of several small towns in Italy. What he found as the secret to community well-being had nothing to do with any of the common success measures we attribute it to. Measures such as economic base, financial resources, geographic location, and history were not primary factors. Rather, it is the degree of widespread relatedness of citizens - the quality of relationships - that is the single most important factor.
Another example comes from an ancient indigenous tribe in Malaysia called the Chewong, who still exist today. Like many hunter-gatherer societies, traditional Chewong have not experienced crime or warfare in their culture. This can largely be attributed to their most important tribal rule: food must be shared, and humans must never eat alone. The Chewong have known for thousands of years that food serves as the cornerstone of well-being in community. Only by looking after the entire population in the spirit of fairness and sharing can the whole group survive.
As I returned from the resource center, there was a noticeable shift in my own outlook and mood. I was surprised as to how I had lost sight of the mutual benefit associated with serving others. In a culture that encourages us daily to hyper-focus on ourselves and our own comfort, a simple act of service like my food donation can remind us that we are all have a part in the greater whole. By stepping out of my own head, which was filled with my own so-called "problems”, and instead listening to my sense of interconnectedness, I was able to contribute to the well-being of my community. And, as an unanticipated outcome of that, my own well-being benefitted, helping me to realize just how interconnected we truly are. The Chewong seem to have figured this out long ago: the spirit of fairness and sharing is truly the key to collective well-being.
Take a moment to reflect on the following questions. Write your responses on a piece of paper or in a journal. Then, share your responses with a partner, a friend, or a trusted colleague.
What do I have in abundance in my current life that I might be able to share more with others?
How might I improve the quality of my connections with people in my own community?
What is an act of service I am willing to commit to completing by the end of the calendar year?
What is a small way I can shift my focus toward well-being of the whole community?
REFERENCES
Ambalu, S., Coogan, M. D., Feinstein, E. L., Freedman, P., Philip, N., Stobart, A., Thompson, M., Tieszen, C., Weeks, M. The Religions Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained. London: Penguin Random House; 2018.
Putnam RD. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon & Schuster; 2000.