Today, nearly 9000 bloggers around the world, reaching over nine million readers, are writing about poverty as part of Blog Action Day. (Since publishing this, now over 10,000 bloggers writing, reaching over eleven million readers.)
The sort of poverty I’m going to write about is probably something that is only possible in the West. It is the sort of poverty that requires a certain amount of luxury first. It’s a poverty we are privileged to have, and I hesitate slightly to write about it in the face of the sort of grinding physical poverty so many millions across the world experience every day.
Disconnection
What I’m writing about today is the poverty of disconnectedness.
We see it every day, many of us are part of it: hoardes of people travelling in rush hours in big cities around the world, together yet separate from each other. Arriving to work at what are often meaningless jobs, wearing our masks to protect ourselves. Living in our apartments or houses, with family or alone, not knowing our neighbours’ names.
Now you probably think I’m going to recommend that we all get chatting with our fellow-commuters, be ourselves at work and invite our neighbours round for coffee.
Protecting our unnatural lives
Well maybe. But actually I think the malaise is far deeper than that, and our disconnectedness is in many ways a band aid over the wound of our unnatural lives; it actually protects us. We don’t connect with strangers on our commute because we try to preserve a little space between home and work, or because we’re working on the journey. We don’t make friends with our neighbours because our real friends are scattered all over the world and we don’t want to get ’stuck’ with neighbours we don’t really like just because they’re physically close.
Even this online connection between us as bloggers, which I value so very much, is unnatural, but the irony is that we often find closer connections in this online community than in our offline lives.
Creating local communities
So what’s the answer?
I think it’s to do with living somewhere we feel at home (as far as possible) and getting involved in the local, face-to-face community, and working near our homes. We’re very individualistic, but it feels to me as if the human race has had to go through this phase of individualism to learn something, and now we need to get back to living in common with others, as we’ve done since the beginning.
My own life has improved so much since I started working part-time, but I still trek into London three days a week, which means a weekly total of 12 hours’ commuting. For now, this continues to suit me, but I’m trying to get involved in more local groups, and get out and about more in the town where I live.
We talk a lot in the UK about villages dying because the local shops are priced out by supermarkets, and about towns where weekend nights are punctuated by drunken violence. It’s all part of the same disconnect.
Spiritual connection
We’re disconnected from our spirituality as well. Too much of our religious experience (if we have it at all) is to do with rules and expected behaviour. We are living in a time of fear, and many faith communities unfortunately respond to that by tightening the rules and pulling up the drawbridge rather than reaching out to others.
All of which understandably puts off people who feel a deep pull towards the spiritual but don’t understand how to express it. Or conversely it attracts those who are looking for safety in the rigidity of dogma.
If we consciously connect with others, we can share our experiences of everyday sacredness and reinforce our connection with the divine as well as with each other.
Simplicity
And we can enable ourselves to do all this if we live more simply. If we’re always chasing our tails trying to make enough money to buy the latest gadgets we become, to use a current expression cash rich, time poor. (Can you imagine living in a community where this concept would be meaningless, because they live in desperate poverty every day? That’s why I hesitated to write this post.)
The current financial crisis will force us to take another look at our expenditure, and is likely to bring more material poverty to countries with ‘mature’ (huh!) financial markets. But what if we pre-empt it? What if we take a serious look at what is really necessary to live our lives with joy, and get rid of the excess? Won’t that allow us the freedom to reach out and really connect with others on many levels?
Connecting with real poverty
And I think our own disconnectedness means we can’t really connect on any deep level with those in real physical poverty. Yes we feel compassion for ‘them’ but it’s always ‘them’ isn’t it? Somewhere removed from ‘us’.
My belief is that by losing our own disconnection, we can make a difference to those in poverty by reaching out, breaking down barriers, and aligning ourselves with everyone in the world. We’ll be able to connect both locally and globally and facilitate real change.
What do you think?



{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
kouji haiku 10.15.08 at 10:33 am
indeed. that’s one thing i’m thankful for, over here in the philippines. there’s less of a feeling of being disconnected, as we tend to be surrounded by friends and family.
saw this post via the front page of blog action day. it’s great that you’re participating.
Barbara 10.15.08 at 6:52 pm
Here in Montreal back in 1998 we had a taste of that connectedness. The ice storm that cut us off from the grid in early January’s cold brought families and friends into very real community, sharing whatever warmth and food they had available. Sad how we retreat back into our isolation. Excellent post, tess.
Tess 10.15.08 at 7:38 pm
Kouji, thank you so much for commenting here, I hope you visit again. I’ve certainly bookmarked your lovely blog.
Barbara, yes in real trouble, people display compassion and community. (Unfortunately they sometimes display less noble qualities also.)
The Green Witch 10.15.08 at 9:02 pm
Extremely thought-provoking. I was speaking to a colleague today about a horrid story on the news about a mother and father who had beaten their 17 month old son to death over a period of months. My colleague said thoughtfully that it might not have been possible for them to get away with killing him if they had had nosier neighbours.
The elemental disconnect is so real that even here, in my sleepy market town, it’s a wonder if you ever see your neighbours, let alone see them to speak to.
I hope it doesn’t take a crisis, as Barbara describes, for us all to take a little more time to get to know those around us.
Tess 10.16.08 at 7:02 pm
Green Witch, this is indeed a frightening story. I think we’re afraid today as well – that we’re going to be threatened if we interfere. I also suspect that we live with so much background noise – TV, radio, music, iPods – that we sometimes literally don’t hear disturbances.
The Green Witch 10.17.08 at 7:49 am
I agree. You fear the retributive power of the authorities are going to bounce back upon you as a parent.
So there’s a lack of trust between us all, and a lack of interest; we don’t want to interfere lest we get some of the backlash.
Peace and quiet, fellow-feeling and care. This sounds like some sort of harking back to a previous, easier time and some would say that time never existed; but it must have done. I wish!
Sunrise Sister 10.21.08 at 2:39 am
I’m glad I remembered to “come back” to read this post. The disconnect of our lives is such a huge issue that it is easier to ignore it than to try to overcome it. I think I feel a post coming on……thank you!
xoxox
lucy 10.21.08 at 2:35 pm
i agree with SS…glad i came back to read. very thought provoking. the disconnect feels so very fear-based…worried about ourselves..interfering with others…scarcity…
a move away from fear and towards love feels like a good approach and the idea of “guerrilla compassion” is a great start!