Embracing Self-Interest – Why It’s Bigger Than Just You
Hi Friends,
Lately, I’ve been hearing a lot of stories—stories of how people are or aren’t showing up. Moments of kindness gone unacknowledged. Interactions that felt dismissive or cold. The kind of experiences that leave us quietly wondering, “Where is everyone’s heart these days?”
I’ve had those moments too.
One that stands out happened back in early spring. I was walking behind someone who dropped their glove as they exited a building. I picked it up, held the door open, and when they turned to retrieve it, they grabbed it from my hand with a scoff—no glance, no thank you. Just a sharp exhale and then gone.
I felt a bit snubbed at first… but underneath that, I noticed something else: sadness.
“Wow,” I remember thinking. “This is where people are right now.”
And I get it. The world feels heavy. So many of us are stretched thin. We’re caught in the pace of daily survival—rushing through to-do lists, staying stuck in our thoughts, barely having the time or energy to notice what’s unfolding around us. And when we do have the time, it’s so easy to become consumed by the endless scroll of news and social media. So much input, so little time to feel. It’s no wonder we’re feeling disconnected—from ourselves, from each other, from the moment we’re in.
I’ve been there too—so immersed in my own inner world that I’ve missed the subtle bids for connection coming my way.
We won’t always catch these moments—and that’s not the goal. But when we find ourselves noticing how other people seem disconnected, can we pause and gently reflect: Are there places in my own life where I’ve been harder to reach?
A message I haven’t responded to.
A moment when I wasn’t present for someone I love.
A kind gesture I overlooked.
The truth is, there may be—and we may not have noticed it. But perhaps someone else felt it.
When we’re overwhelmed or exhausted, it makes sense to narrow our focus and do what we need to get through. But we live in a culture that encourages us to silo ourselves—to look out for “our people” and protect what’s ours, even if it means turning away from someone else's need. We're taught to view self-interest as a solo pursuit, as if caring for others somehow means sacrificing ourselves. As though protecting our peace means disconnecting from everyone else.
But what if real self-interest isn’t individual?
What if it’s deeply connected to how we care for each other?
Because despite the common messaging:
If I win, it doesn’t mean you lose.
If you win, it doesn’t take anything away from me.
We’ve been sold the illusion of separation—but this isn’t a zero-sum game.
Late-stage capitalism thrives on the belief that we’re in competition with each other. That it’s “us versus them.” That only a few can succeed, so we’d better look out for ourselves.
But as Heather McGhee writes in The Sum of Us:
“It’s often unconscious, but their perception of the Other as undeserving is so important to their perception of themselves as deserving that they’ll tear apart the web that supports everyone—including them.”
That web—our collective support system—can only hold when we stop “othering” and start reconnecting.
It’s not just about being nice. It’s about reclaiming something essential:
That it’s in our self-interest to build a world where more of us are supported, seen, and cared for.
That connection isn’t a detour—it’s the way through.
Here are a few gentle reminders about how connection and care support all of us:
When we check in on someone else, it often softens something in us too. It reminds us we're not alone, and that our presence matters.
When we lift others, we create the conditions to be lifted too. Generosity creates ripples—what we offer to others often circles back in unexpected ways.
Loneliness and disconnection don’t just hurt emotionally—they carry real health consequences. Research links isolation to depression, heart disease, and even early mortality.
The more we “other,” the more isolated we become. When we create distance from those who are different, we lose the richness of shared humanity.
Generosity isn’t just giving—it’s choosing to believe in a world where we all get to belong. Studies have shown that acts of generosity increase well-being—not just for the receiver, but for the giver too. Belonging creates resilience, and it begins with our willingness to include others, not just those who are easy to include.
Competition can motivate—but unchecked, it can also divide. Compassion builds what competition alone never can: trust, safety, community.
Othering and division may feel like self-protection, but they actually shrink our inner world.
They create walls instead of bridges. And over time, those walls keep us out too.
We don’t need to be everything to everyone, but we can look up once in a while.
We can pause and offer a nod, a kind word, a moment of presence.
And in doing so, we remind each other that we belong.
Let’s not wait for the world to feel less chaotic before we remember our connection to each other. Let’s nurture it in the moments we have now.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina Wong
