What the Basque Country taught me about community
I’ve been thinking a lot about connection/community lately. The theme keeps coming up in conversations over and over with different friends, on different threads, around different topics.
Last month, I went on what turned out to be a pilgrimage to the Basque Country in Spain.
I had been called to go back to the land of my ancestors—Karrantza Harana—several times last year, and just didn’t take the leap. Then my cousin became terminally ill in December—in what felt like a slap in the face by my guides—and it became evident that if I wanted to see him again in this realm, I had better get my shit together and just GO!
Once I finally made the decision, ALL the pieces of the puzzle magically started to appear in front of me and and found their way to each other in the most perfect of ways.
The plane ticket, which was quite pricey, ended up being almost half the cost thanks to a credit card offer as I was paying, which rebated me $500 on the spot (plain old Delta Amex, not a scam 😉). After days of obsessing over which hotels to book, the prices started dropping exponentially (cookies working in reverse?), my dreams provided clear messages about the itinerary, my childhood friend was able to meet me there from Amsterdam for the weekend, etc… etc… etc…
It made me wonder if, in our effort to care for ourselves, we haven’t perhaps tilted the needle too far in one direction and forgotten how to take care of others. It almost feels as if we’ve been given (or have given ourselves) a permission slip to not show up. And the consequence is not only that we’re ultimately letting our loved ones down, but that we’re isolating ourselves, which ends up being the worst possible thing we can do in the name of self-care.
Now, before you get angry or reactive, I am not saying that we can’t ever say no, or that we shouldn’t prioritize our needs. What I am saying is that we might want to take a good look at our lives and ask ourselves if we are truly prioritizing connection with our daily choices.
As social animals (yes, we’re animals, people!), isolation is the worst possible thing we can do for our health and emotional wellbeing. Modern medicine keeps confirming this study after study. And yet, we keep staying home more and more often because we don’t have the capacity to do one more thing. Forgetting that sometimes, the hard part is just leaving the house, and that once we’re there, it usually feels really good to be in our loved ones’ company.
A few weeks after returning home, as I walked around my neighborhood searching for sunshine, I was reminded of the fact that, in today’s day and age, knocking on someone’s door is almost no longer socially acceptable here. I’m not sure how it used to be in times gone by, because I have only lived here in my adult life. But back home (Dominican Republic), popping in unannounced is not only acceptable, it’s actually still commonplace.
Jason and I were discussing this a few months ago when one evening, on a weekday, we decided quite last minute to go to dinner at a restaurant that was next door to a friend’s house. So I immediately said, let’s invite them! Jason argued that this would further complicate things as far as timing and getting Elden to bed goes, but I couldn’t fathom eating right next to her house and not reaching out.
You see, back home, you wouldn’t even drive by someone’s house without at least calling them and telling them you had. Let alone have dinner right next door to them without seeing them. Inconceivable! (we’ve been playing The Princess Bride board game around here, in case anyone’s wondering). So we reached out, and they joined us, and it was an absolutely perfect evening!
And yet, as I stood in front of my neighbor’s house, who I haven’t seen in such a long time, it felt awkward to simply knock and say hi without having previously called or texted.
It didn’t take long for the Basque and Dominican in me to snap me out of my newfound United States ways and walk her butt over and ring the doorbell. Grandma answered, and was quite weirded out, yet as soon as I started to introduce myself one of the kiddos recognized my voice and leaped out of her chair excited to come see me.
Right behind was her dad, who was also quite happily surprised with the visit. We chatted for a little bit, and then they showed me around their MAGICAL back yard that dad has been planting, tending to and curating over the past two years.
I left with a smile in my heart and a Squash, Rosemary, African Marigold and Red Bok Choy plants in my hands.
A few days later, a friend texted me: Special delivery at the bottom of your steps! I came home to find these gorgeous Peonies waiting for me, and once again my heart was delighted with the many, many ways in which my people and I do show up for each other.
As the days go by, and I continue to integrate the many lessons that this voyage has offered me, I am paying special attention to how I can be more present in fostering threads of connection with the people I care about, so that we can begin to weave a new reality of community and care on this side of the world, that would make my Basque ancestors proud.