We are not Islands.

I have always had enjoyed that tongue in cheek quote “You are unique, just like everybody else.” On the surface, it is somewhat amusing... but dig a little deeper, and you quickly realise that it’s actually quite profound.

We all walk through our days carrying the idea that our problems are ours alone, as if they require a secret password which only we know. Yet, have a proper conversation with someone… not just the usual, shallow “howzit, fine and you” exchange – and suddenly you are hearing your own worries coming out of their mouth. It’s uncanny how often the very thing that makes you feel isolated is, in fact, the most ordinary part of being human.

I think that the problem has crept in because we have been sold this picture of ourselves as stand alone units, each expected to function independently, self contained little islands bobbing about in the ocean. It sounds noble and all, but in reality, it’s exhausting!! Life was never meant to be lived that way. Our design, if you look closely, points in another direction entirely - that being, towards community, collaboration, and shared existence.

Think about it. From the beginning of time, survival hasn’t been about who could hoard the most, but who could gather together and share resources, knowledge, even fire. Entire civilisations were not built on individual genius, but on communities that understood how to pool their strengths. A village didn’t only raise a child… it kept the entire human race moving forward.

Somewhere along the line, we got comfortable with the idea of “mine” instead of “ours.” The irony is that the more we cling to our independence, the more fragile we become. A person alone can plant a seed, sure. But a community can grow a harvest that feeds everyone through the winter. A person can survive. A community can sustain.

And it’s not just about food or shelter. Emotional survival, too, depends on this. We cope better when we share, not only our resources but our stories, our humour, even our mistakes. This is precisely why a shared laugh over burnt boerewors at a braai is more healing than eating the perfect steak alone. It’s not the meal, it’s the togetherness.

When we start to loosen our grip on this idea of being separate, life takes on another rhythm. Conversations deepen and solutions begin to multiply. And even the ordinary things like a neighbour lending you a ladder, an aunt who knows an old remedy for flu, the group who takes turns walking each other’s dogs… begin to show themselves as small acts of survival and care. That is community at work. It is sustainability in its truest form - people showing up for one another.

Yes, you are unique and yes, you have got your quirks, your talents, your particular battles. But so does everyone else. We are indirectly stitched together by the very things which we “think” set us apart. When we see that clearly, we stop drifting as lonely islands and start realising that we are actually part of a coastline, unified by something far stronger than we imagine.