Team work. Um… what’s that?

(also titled, “Together Everyone Achieves Magic” or even “Team Work Makes The Dream Work” or perhaps “My 58km Walk”)

Previously, in a different time and place, I once felt alone. Quite content in this really, I’d thought I’d made friends with the great existential questions that descend upon us periodically: the realisation that we’re born alone and we die alone and that what happens in between those two events is essentially meaningless.

I’ve always believed in complete and utter self-responsibility for my thoughts and actions, that the decisions I make moment to moment don’t really have the power to affect other people and if they think they do, well, that’s their responsibility, not mine. This may sound a little harsh or cold (or selfish) but it seems quite natural to me, direct.

This self-responsibility extended to every situation I found myself in – from the joyous to the painful. I am responsible for my experience here. There is no one to blame, no finger to be pointed. Things just happen and if I find those things somewhat uncomfortable, that’s my responsibility. I am, after all, here purely for my own personal evolution, my own private journey to self-actualisation, one step at a time.

Of course I knew that I wasn’t here alone, everyone around me is on their own trip to truth but I honestly believed that I didn’t need anyone by my side, no hand-holding, no encouragement, no pats on the back required. Sure, those things are nice, warm and fuzzy but not essential to the achievement of my goals. I could always go within to find everything I needed: stillness, strength and commitment. I am an island, free of all dependence.

I was always “the strong one” in my family, the one that everyone knew would be OK no matter what. I was the one that never cried and never asked for help. I never gave anyone much of an opportunity to help me either. I didn’t want to be vulnerable. I didn’t want to be a burden, just another thing to do on someone’s ever-expanding to-do list. I kept myself separate. The words “trust” and “other people” had a strange and alien-like ring to them.

For so many years (lifetimes perhaps?), I’ve placed enormous value on this sense of my own solidarity. I thought it made me different, special, perhaps even better than other people, more intelligent and enlightened maybe. Yeah, OK. Sometimes I felt so disconnected that I thought no one could actually see me, so much like a freak that I was missing out on something that everyone else on the planet just seemed to understand. This came to dominate my entire approach to new experiences and new friendships.

For sure, there were moments of relief, brief flashes of angelic harmonies that uplifted my soul and proved to me that in fact, I could ONLY walk this path with others – that through my interactions, I get to see my blind spots, my limitations, my “issues”. I get a perfect reflection of my own beauty. I get love and respect and laughter and stimulating conversations. I get community. I get purpose. I get worth.

For all the reasons mentioned previously, I’ve obviously never really been much of a team player. In the past, I’d find myself becoming irritated, bossy and uptight (probably because I thought I could do it better than anyone else). I avoided teams wherever possible and preferred instead to rely on my own efforts and ingenuity (which has worked out quite well up to this point!).

So it was with an attitude of fierce independence, complete self-responsibility and team trepidation that I approached this year’s Gold Coast Kokoda Challenge, Australia’s toughest team endurance event: 96 km of rough terrain and steep hills to be covered in 39 hours.

Not surprisingly (and I say this ONLY with the wisdom of hind sight), it didn’t work.

In our five months of weekend training and preparation, I gave not a single thought to team dynamics. I mean, I knew it would be hard, I knew I’d be in pain, I knew I’d struggle with fatigue and negativity at times but I was convinced that my coping strategies and sense of commitment and dedication would be enough. Me me me me me me me me. I could do this on my own. I didn’t need anyone.

Not so. Not so at all.

I needed constant communication with every member of my team. I needed to reach out to them. I needed to be supported by the people I was walking with. I needed encouragement and congratulations from others. I needed cheering and phone calls and text messages. I needed someone to tell me to keep going, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I needed my Mum. I needed someone to make all my decisions. I needed to be met with welcoming smiles from people I care about. I needed to feel like I wasn’t alone. I needed help.

And so, I am humbled by this treacherous, uneven, rocky, steep, slippery, slimy, smooth, sweaty, hot, cold, dusty, wet, dry, grassy, muddy, leechy, lush, light, dark, difficult, easy and loooooooooooooooooong journey (with some magnificent views on the way) that we share together.

I cannot do this journey alone.

But more than that…

I don’t want to.

I want to do it.

With YOU.