MIND MOVES/TONY BATES:PADDY'S DAY . . . a chilly eastern breeze under clear blue skies. Walking along the river bank, I noticed a family group meandering along ahead of me. Two little boys were playing ball.
The inevitable happened. The receiver missed his call. The ball drifted over the bank and into the water. It settled in the water, halted in its track by an off-shore clump of reeds.
I assumed the figure whom I took to be "dad" would retrieve the ball for the two lads - who looked at a glance no more than four or five years old. So I passed them by and kept my nose out of their business.
But as I did, I heard both parents deliver a verdict that the ball was irretrievable, and that anyway it was too old a thing to be worth saving. This news did nothing to cheer up one of the boys, who voiced his protest loudly. One shouldn't interfere, but somehow it didn't seem right to walk on by.
I turned around and asked if he wanted his ball back. I was greeted by silence, tears on cheeks, and a look that said "yes".
I got nettle stings, wet feet and mud on my shoes. But I got his ball back. And the look on his little boy face made it more than worthwhile.
It was then that I noticed that my own mood, which had been dragging its feet all that day, felt curiously lighter. The lads had been reunited with their means of play, but I had recovered something just as precious. My mind seemed to shift gear as I found myself thinking about everything in a different way.
An experiment I had read many years before came to mind. It had a curious resonance with my encounter with the two little boys.
Two social psychologists had undertaken a study of elderly residents in a nursing home. They divided the residents into two groups that were the same in terms of age, sex and severity of illness. Each person was given a plant for his or her room.
But depending on the group to which they'd been assigned, each resident was given a different instruction. Group one was told that this plant had been given to them to brighten up their room and that it was up to them to water and look after the plant.
The other group was told that they didn't have to worry about the plant, as it would be watered every day by the housekeeper.
Over the next 18 months they recorded the number of deaths that occurred in each of these two groups and discovered that among those in group one who had been told to mind their plants (in addition to other instructions to become more proactive in making decisions about their lives generally), the rate of deaths was half what it was in the other group.
The authors of this study concluded that it was the opportunity to make decisions for themselves that had protected residents in group one. Another interpretation might be that the opportunity to care for the plant allowed this group to feel connected and needed in some small way.
Maybe it's the feeling of being connected that lifts our mood rather than the feeling of being in control.
Our sense of wellbeing is deeply affected by our experience of relationships, whether it is with pets, plants or people. Relationships bring a vitality into our lives and strengthen our immune system.
Our close relationships enable us to discover who we are and what our lives are really about. They provide a context that allows us to feel safe in the world and a secure base from which we can venture forth and take on challenges we must face alone.
One of the scariest moments we experience is when we lose all sense of our connection with others and experience ourselves as utterly alone.
And one of the great gifts we can give to each other is to simply connect with one another and dispel that illusion. Maybe through a timely call to someone, maybe through simply taking time to notice that behind the social role someone may be playing in our lives, there is a person who may be starved for a kind word or a smile.
Someone who, unbeknown to us, may have just "lost their ball" which may be retrieved if we just note their existence and resist the urge to walk on by. It may also be that in that moment of connection we recover ourselves.
• Tony Bates is founding director of Headstrong - The National Centre for Youth Mental Health ( www.headstrong.ie).
