No Woman is an Island? I Disagree.

I’ve often romanticized a tropical lifestyle—the ever-wearing flip flops, dancing to steel drums on the way to the food market type of existence. Wouldn’t life be more effortless and relaxing being surrounded by crystal clear, champagne shores, “knee deep in the water somewhere” --like the Zac Brown Band sings? Would we be in constant vacation mode driving to and from soccer practice?

For years I’ve yearned for that get-away paradise, especially at times when bottomless mango daiquiris didn’t cut it anymore. I even kept a secret list close to my heart of the five friends I’d take on a deserted island. You’ve probably heard versions of the “5 Friends Everyone Should Have,”—like a lawyer, physician, mechanic, therapist, and a carpenter. Or about the “5 Friend Types”—like a listener, a motivator, a helper, an adventurer, and a comedian. Would you pray to be shipwrecked with a movie star like Gilligan? Who do you prioritize? Whom can you text/call to satisfy your pick-me-up?   

When teaching a public speaking class about aggressive and agenda-driven interviewers I talk about the “island of safety.” I suggest that the students prepare three key message points to drive the conversation, to focus their time as an opportunity to present their ideas and not get sidetracked down some tangential path. If someone asks an unrelated, hostile question the responder should acknowledge it, and then create a bridge to return to their main messages, or to their island.

Over the years I’ve realized that the bridges to reach those on my island—have been key to not only survival, but to share in life’s sheer enjoyment. As a high school graduation gift my favorite teacher gave me a framed piece of calligraphy with John Donne’s poem, which begins with, “No man is an island, Entire of itself.” Contrary to Donne’s poem, perhaps we are our own islands, molding our lives by erupting into our own safe havens? Granted, mine’s a land-locked one in suburban Pennsylvania with no steel drums…but in a non-methodical manner I have somehow crafted my own island of safety. I know the importance of gathering that band of merry people whom I can depend on, laugh with, and be inspired by.

So be grateful for the treasures on your island, those who make you feel confident, loved, supported, and encouraged. And make sure to thank them for just being there—in your fashioned paradise—which, in reality, may be in your own backyard.