Islands

A funny thing happened to me on the way to the supermarket yesterday. No, really.

My car is fairly distinctive and there aren't too many around like it. However, I have noticed an almost-identical twin around the area in the last few months. Yesterday, while getting a ticket in the carpark, it drove round from somewhere else and parked right in the next bay. I ended up having a good long chat to the owner, a German who actually lives very close to me too. He's an enthusiastic member of the fan club for these cars, and when I checked their website (which I used to do more often a while back), I saw that he'd already posted a photo of our cars side-by-side!

Which reminded me that I had been thinking a few days ago about a "belonging" feeling. While I would hesitate to say that I miss the strength of that feeling among the brethren, I can definitely feel its absence. It seems that human beings are hard-wired - to a greater or lesser extent - to feel a need to be part of a group. I couldn't help wondering if this guy's enthusiasm was partly a result of having moved to a new country leaving a certain amount of his old social identity behind, and so therefore he was more disposed to put time and energy into a group that shared an interest. Who knows. If we stay in contact, I may find out.

I don't doubt the old cliche "no man is an island", but it does seem less true than it used to be. The sense of community among the brethren is insistent and relentless if you're feeling trapped by it, and secure and unfailing if you like it. I don't think anyone would claim it was weak. The very fact that it's so hard to break the connection (emotionally, that is - it's physically very easy indeed) means that the sense of being part of something larger than oneself is so ingrained that it never needs questioning. You just ARE part of that larger entity, and anything else is all but unthinkable. By comparison, the links I've experienced on the outside seem fragile and consequently worryingly temporary.

There is a big bonus to the normal outside way. As the links are based on choice in each direction, freedom is built-in. The other side of that benefit is that those of us used to an absence of choice can't help feeling that such links are in danger of breaking at any time. We stand alone, and are dependent on the choice of others for continued community, which can be unsettling. I can understand the temptation to limit one's relationships just to minimise the risk of heartache. Or at the very least, to put energy into the type of community which makes minimal demands, such as the many online forums that seem to grow permanent residents these days. Or a car club.

I no longer have an accessible family myself, and most of my new friends and acquaintances seem to have minimal family ties. That makes them seem like islands to me, and something deep down considers that a rather melancholy state. Yet I doubt they see it that way themselves. Anybody without the experience of belonging to a community that demands your membership be a primary part of your identity as a person would, I think, struggle to see any attraction in the idea. A link based on personal choice must surely be of infinitely greater value than one that is based on demand. And without doubt it is ... except that something in the human make-up does like the security of a strong arbitrary connection. The very fact that you can't change it means that it's reliable.

Freedom is a great thing, and I wouldn't be without it, but it doesn't come without some cost.