Eventually, I’ll get around to writing some pithier entries on here about life in New Zealand – quirky differences, how the kids are adjusting, etc. But the initial months of the move have led me to give a lot of thought to more fundamental aspects of life – the choices we make in how we structure our lives and our direct (or default/subconscious) choices we make around the things we value.
As we settle in here and establish a new chapter, we have a whole new foundation on which to build our lives. It’s led me to think intentionally about how we plan to fill our days – leading me to questions like: how many activities should the kids be involved in? How do we meet new people? How do we strike a balance between the kids activities’ and finding time for Charlie and I to have hobbies, build community, etc? These questions lead to others – things like taking advantage of the opportunity to travel here, which leads to a whole rabbit hole of anxiety around budgeting, how much to spend and save, etc. I’m also giving a lot of thought to my vocation, as I plan to start searching for a job over the next few weeks as we settle in. What kind of work do I want to do? Should I prioritize loving the job/role versus looking for something with higher earning potential? Do I look for a job here in Auckland or consider remote opportunities? If I work here, how many days do I want to be in the office?
On
and on
and on
these questions go.
Meanwhile, I am treading water in my own mind, trying to stay afloat.
Thankfully (providentially, maybe even?) I’ve had some welcome distractions during our first weeks here. I was fortunate enough, after posting that I was moving to New Zealand, to find out that an old friend was visiting just days after we landed. She is an ardent USWNT fan and a passionate world traveler, which meant that she had already planned an exciting summer trip to Australia and New Zealand. The timing was magical – not only did I get to catch a World Cup game with Jenny, but we also got to see a Lizzo show, go on a family mini-hike to the beach, and explore Waiheke beach together.
One of the joys in reconnecting with Jenny was being reminded of what a badass woman and incredible human being she is. Jenny and I were friends in college, sharing many good times – but the greatest of which was that we spent all of our Spring Breaks on a trip called “Tex Mex”, in which we traveled to Reynosa, Mexico to help build houses for families living at the border. Most students went once or twice, but Jenny and I both were the type that went every year – eventually leading and anchoring the trip. In reuniting, Jenny and I reminisced about where our lives had been when we departed ways – both of us embarking on roles in Teach for America. (I’d forgotten that I’d passed on my rocking chair to her.) And I loved seeing so much of Jenny’s dedication – to friendship, to joy and travel, her passion for her students, still shining so brightly through her lived experiences over the past decade.
Before we got together, I wondered what had led us to stop keeping up. I assume it was the normal winnowing of friendships post college and the realities of distance and limited time. While it may have been normal, I still felt pangs of regret that I hadn’t done a better job staying connected to such a wonderful person.
But then, I was reminded of an interview I listened to recently between the US Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy and Krista Tippett (from the On Being Podcast). Dr. Murthy has been writing and speaking out about how loneliness is having a profound impact on American life, as well as on our individual health and well-being. What I loved most about Dr. Murthy’s interview was his vulnerability and willingness to speak to his personal experience – and to admit that he had fallen out of touch with many friends and found himself increasingly isolated. He then spoke to a conversation that he had with a friend that I found to be so freeing and powerful:
Murthy: And the reason for that is, like many people — and I’m happy to share some personal stories here later if you’d like, but — we sometimes think that the world of people who care about us is a lot smaller than it really is. And sometimes — well, maybe if you’ll indulge me, I’ll tell one quick story here, which is when I finished my first term as Surgeon General — and finished means it ended quite abruptly. And it was surprising to me. And what had happened during that time is that time I had spent as Surgeon General, I made one critical mistake, which is that I convinced myself that in order to really do well at this job and give everything I could, that I just needed to be a hundred percent focused on the job. And I neglected my relationships. I didn’t keep in touch with a lot of my friends. Even when I was with family, I was distracted, on my phone.
And when suddenly I no longer was serving as Surgeon General — the one community I did have was my community at work, and all of a sudden they were gone. And I felt profoundly alone. I actually sunk into this deep abyss of loneliness for a long time. And I remember seeing a friend once on a trip to Boston, and she said to me over breakfast, she said, “Vivek, you know what your problem is?” She said, “Your problem is not that you don’t have friends.” She said, “Your problem is you’re not experiencing friendships.” She said, “If you called any one of those people you had lost touch with, they’d be more than happy to talk to you, much happier than you realize.” So she said, “You have to get over your shame and your sense of embarrassment at not being in touch and just reach out. And you’ll find that people are also hungry for human connection.” So that’s why that 15 minutes with people you care about outside of those you live with can be powerful.
I thought this notion – the power of reaching out, of not have to feel shame about losing touch, but instead recognize that seasons of friendship will experience a natural ebb and flow, and that we each can be intentional in speaking to that and seeking to reconnect – it felt so enlivening. Personally, I feel like I am constantly bombarded with self-care messages about cutting out and culling friendships that aren’t healthy – and while there are important times and places for that – I’d love to see more messages of making space for regenerating friendships that fell aside, or for seeking to build new friendships.
I also recently came across an article in the Atlantic where writer Olga Khan delves into our human nature in friendship – the tendency to feel hurt by friends who aren’t responsive or reliable, or who don’t meet certain needs. When these patterns of behavior set in from a friend, there’s a push to cut them off. However, Khan presents a compelling argument – instead of severing ties with friends, it’s pragmatic to seek to cultivate and build an array of friendships; if there’s a gap in what some friends can offer, we can look for other friendships with intention, where we can cultivate what our current friends may not be able to provide. It may all sound a bit utilitarian, but I genuinely believe in the powerful insights that underpin these realities – the understanding that even your best friend can't fulfill all your needs, and that we are better off when we are woven into a varied and rich fabric of community.
In this era of transactional relationships, I found myself grateful for the unexpected joy and providential timing of reconnecting with an old friend in this new season of life. As I embark on a journey that requires forging new friendships here, I am also grateful for the reminder that even as I am prepare to invest a ton of energy in meeting new people, I can make space to both reconnect with old and further-afield friends and maintain connections with long-time friends who are far away. It can be a both/and type scenario, as opposed to either/or, and I’m truly grateful for that realization.
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