Stepladder for a Bird

We were playing with Lego when my three year old daughter exclaimed, “And I’ll make a stepladder for the bird.” My first thought was, “But the bird should be able to fly. He (or she) shouldn’t need a ladder.” But I bit my lip.

I’ve been battling “should” and “shouldn’t” lately. I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be able to handle this. The plastic bird made me contemplate the times I’ve thought I shouldn’t need help. But we all need a stepladder some times. We all need other people. Relationships. Friendships. Family. Connection. Help. It isn’t something that is nice if we have time. We legit need it. To live.

I’m starting to get really sick of hearing about self care. As if it’s the ultimate cure-all for every imaginable woe. Yes, we need to take care of ourselves. We need to eat, drink enough water, take ourselves for the odd walk, bathe. Basically, treat ourselves at least as well as the family dog. But what about community? This life is not a solo enterprise. We need to take care of each other. We need friends to confide in. We need to hear grandparents’ stories. We need parents to run things by. Siblings to reminisce with. Neighbours to shoot the breeze with.

And social media can make us feel connected. We know Kim made a smoothie bowl for breakfast and Tom worked out and Jill’s kids are gorgeous. But it can also make us feel alone. Less than. Disconnected from a reality that doesn’t exist.

You’ve heard the saying it takes a village to raise a child. But sometimes parenting feels so lonely. More like a track meet than a county fair. At times I want to scream into the abyss, “Where the hell is my village?” I wish for the days when neighbours swung by unannounced for a cup of tea and a visit, when kids congregated for a too-late game of kick the can, when everyone you met on a gravel road waved, and people smiled and said, “Hello” in the grocery store even if they didn’t know your name.

I know Covid is really screwing up our villages right now. And you might be feeling alone. Wondering where the hell your village is. And that’s okay. It’s okay to need people. It’s okay to need help. We weren’t meant to do this life alone. The next time someone preaches self-care to me, instead of running a bath and digging out a face mask, I’m going to try to reach out. To a friend. My grandma. A cousin. A neighbour. My community. My village.

It’s okay, even for a bird, to need a stepladder once in a while.