Circles In The Sand

There are certain birds that make a nest, lay their eggs, and draw a circle in the sand or dust around their nest. When the chicks hatch out, occasionally one will fall out of the nest, and out of the circle, and even if it's right there, a foot or two away, the mother bird will ignore it. Everything inside the circle is to be protected, and everything outside is fair game.

Some birds exhibit this behaviour more than others, but most are capable of it. People, too. As humans, we draw our own circles, although ours are more metaphorical than literal. We pick and choose who to care about and who to ignore. We have to, because it's not either physically or emotionally possible to care about everyone we meet. I actually wrote about this subject awhile ago, in a note called The Desensitization of Humanity, where I mused on the idea that perhaps our salvation lies not in caring about each and every person, but in mourning the fact that we can't.

More and more, though, I'm finding that people I know - and people I don't know, and have only seen in passing - are displaying disturbing tendencies to make those circles tighter. Circles that used to encompass a couple of dozen people, even a couple hundred, have slowly been shrinking until they're circles for an elite few. Circles of two. Circles of one. People stop caring, because it's hard. Because they feel like they don't get enough back. Because they're so wrapped up in their own pain. Or sometimes just because they get so caught up in one person, that nobody else in the world seems worth the bother. They get tunnel vision, and can't see past that person, or past their pain, or past their cynicism about whether people are worth the energy they take. And so their world shrinks.

More and more, I'm meeting people who believe that people are generally not worth it. A select few, sure, but not Humanity in general. Maybe this is due to the large proportion of my friends and family who are male Capricorns, because the average Cappie personality certainly is the poster-child for what I think of as the "pie" theory of love: that there's a finite amount, and the more people you have to spread it between, the less each person gets.

But it's certainly not just affecting young Capricorns: it's a phenomenon that appears to be spreading to most people I know, regardless of age or race or gender or personality type. All too often, I'm finding that people I know and trust - or knew, and trusted - are becoming colder, harder, more cruel. They give so much love to those few friends and family members, they stop caring about everyone else. And they're so desperate to keep those one or two people they love safe and close, that almost without realising they start putting up defenses that bomb the hell out of anyone who comes close to them. And when someone gets hurt, even someone who doesn't deserve it, then sure, it's regrettable, but it's really just collateral damage.

Because as we all know, life is a war, and we're all soldiers, right? *sigh*

Some of my friends tell me I should just let it go. It's human nature. This is the way things are. Nobody can care about everyone, nobody should even try, so I should be glad to have half a dozen people I can call friends, who I'll go to the mattresses for, and who'll do the same for me.

Except I can't do that. Because I care. I don't just care about friends and family. I care about the 15-year-old who lives with me and the women in the Co-Op and the mailman and the bus drivers and the bratty little kids down the road who are always trampling my flowerbeds and stealing my newspapers. I don't care about my rapist, but I do feel sorry for his family. I care whether my taxi driver's son gets into uni and whether the Big Issue seller has enough to eat and if the people who serve me in shops are having a nice day. I care about friends and strangers, and everyone inbetween. And I don't think that collateral damage is OK.

I'm not saying that I care about all people equally. That way lies madness. But I do care. I will ALWAYS care, and I can't apologize for that. I WON'T apologize for that.

I don't think it's OK to be cynical about everything in the world. I don't think that people are meant to be that way. I don't think that life should be lived like we're at war. And while I didn't want to get religious in this note, I have to add that if there IS an afterlife that's reserved for good people, I don't think you get there by going to church and volunteering on Sundays and knowing your holy books back to front. I think grace is earned by not hurting others, even when you're hurting inside. By trying to be pleasant, even when you don't feel like it. By being kind to not only the people you care about, but also the people who care about you.

This started out as a calm, collected comment on human behaviour, and somehow it's morphed into a heartfelt plea to all of you. Please. Don't throw people away. Don't assume that because a person isn't "the one," they can't be important to you. Don't become one of those people who thinks that people don't matter.

Don't let your circles get smaller.