It's not you. It's us.

PART 1: Rediscovering interdependence through awe.

I recently walked into my local neighbourhood bookstore. I was early for a meeting and hoping to enjoy a small gap in my schedule. It didn’t take me long to scan the first couple shelves to arrive at the largest section of the shop: the self help section. Before I knew it, I was photographing book titles into my phone, tantalized by the promise to unlock facets of myself supposedly neglected, misunderstood, or entirely undiscovered. I became so engrossed that I completely lost track of time and arrived late for my meeting. The irony was not lost on me.

It's hard not to notice our culture's deep prioritization of the self - our self-image, personal brand, self-awareness, self-control. We are borderline obsessed. This self-absorption skews our worldview, making it increasingly myopic as we gaze endlessly into the mirror of our own egos.

I'll admit, I caved and bought one of those self-help books. I'm a sucker for new perspectives on how to become my "best self”.

The pyramid that started it all

The beloved hierarchy of needs pyramid developed by Abraham Maslow in 1943 continues to reaffirm this striving. We all want to scale that triangle, reaching the pinnacle by realizing our full individual potential. When I think about it, this self-actualization drive sums up my motivation for many things - posting on LinkedIn, using Duolingo, and yes, even that self-help book purchase.

Nothing wrong with that.

But recently I've started questioning the role of the independent individual within the overwhelmingly complex systems we are a part of. Especially when trying to change those systems for the better. Self-help in its many forms has absolutely contributed to my personal growth in ways that strengthen my ability to contribute - reminding of this quote by Bill O’Brien “The success of an intervention depends on the interior condition of the intervener.” But the constant chatter of the default mode in our brains tied to self-referential thought can also be distracting from

It doesn’t have to be lonely

I recently caught up with a friend who is researching loneliness. This is a person who I have always deemed as highly social, well connected and deeply community-focused. The beauty and irony of her connection with the topic speaks to a hushed unspoken type of loneliness. The loneliness we feel when we’re all together online or even in person. The loneliness I felt browsing the self-help section of that bookstore next to two other women who also had their Goodreads app open scanning covers. Sometimes, when we focus on the self, we are focused on our individualism, our self-reliance and our independence. All elements that drive the Western mindset and culture.

East meets West - The ‘me’ and the ‘we’

I distinctly remember a conversation with my Singaporean business partner years ago, while building our first startup together. I remember him remarking on our distinctly different ways of networking. He picked up on my Western approach to thinking about the networks I was a part of, classifying people I ‘know’ and strangers in silos. His network was layered and messy and completely void of ‘strangers’. Everyone was connected to someone.

The Chinese designer Yan Liu who moved to Berlin at the age of 13 created a book of pictograms called ‘East Meets West’ and it’s my favourite visual representation of ‘networking’ in individualist vs collectivist culture. It illustrates that moment for me perfectly.

Yan Liu. East Meets West

Collectivist cultures better grasp the interconnected nature of systems, including human systems. Their values of interdependence, patterns over facts, and holistic thinking better enable transformational change. Interdependence appreciates the worth of each individual, yet also sees the enhanced value that comes when they work together in an integrated, collaborative way. The whole becomes greater than the sum of the parts.

Interdependence isn’t the relinquishing your own agency or power, but it does dim the focus on the self. Recent research at the University of Toronto speaks to excessive self-focus being potentially harmful even, leading to stress, isolation, and disconnection. And yes, even loneliness. Four states of being that aren’t ideal for anyone. But beyond that, it also disconnects us from the collective. Regardless of how cliché and overused this passage has become, the shift from ‘me to we’ is a prerequisite for true systems change to happen.

I wish to stress that the true meaning of life is to be discovered in the world rather than within man or his own psyche, as though it were a closed system. I have termed this constitutive characteristic “the self-transcendence of human existence.” It denotes the fact that being human always points, and is directed, to something or someone, other than oneself—be it a meaning to fulfill or another human being to encounter. The more one forgets himself—by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love—the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself. What is called self-actualization is not an attainable aim at all, for the simple reason that the more one would strive for it, the more he would miss it. In other words, self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect of self-transcendence.

- Victor Frankl

We often assume it's natural to put ourselves first. But research suggests our culture's extreme self-focus isn't actually beneficial or innate. As author David Brooks puts it, "The rampant individualism of our current culture is a catastrophe.”

As we emerge from a pandemic that proved just how connected our world is, and just how lonely it can be to only focus on ourselves, there's a chance to shift toward a more relational mindset. One recognizing that we rely on families, communities, and our global ecosystem. One balancing a healthy self-focus with appreciating the greater whole.

What if an individual experience of awe had the capacity to shake us out of radical individualism and nudge us to embrace interdependence, responsibility, and intimacy?

With kindness and curiosity,

Laura