“Unity in Diversity”: No Bear Is an Island, by Mawson and Mark O’Dwyer

 

(2026). ISBN: 978-1-7645894-0-6

No man is an island, entire of itself/Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

—John Donne, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, 1624

In a polarizing world, where Othering has divided and not united, where difference is a liability instead of a strength in the eyes of (far too) many (especially those in power), it’s important to teach our children (while being role models) that everyone has a unique (hi)story, set of interests and goals, hopes and dreams, and they are all of equal value. Such recognition of the worth of diversity in our social circles is a pathway to seeing we can learn from others while learning about ourselves when we step out of our comfort zone and engage with those who are different than we are.

This is the beautiful and timely message of No Bear Is an Island. Strength in numbers, communion in community, and the truest truth there is—we all could use a little empathy, help, and compassion to get us through the day and find a little relief from our self-doubts and feelings of not quite being enough.

Photographer Mark O’Dwyer, along with his philosophical, kind-hearted companion, Mawson (imagine a more worldly Winnie the Pooh, although equally gentle and kind), have a knack for delivering messages that make the sad amongst us smile and the alone feel so much less so. In It’s a Bright World to be Lost In, they show us love and loss are often intertwined and that, in time, we heal. In She Ran Away from Love, the message is self-acceptance. In Dreamy Days and Random Naps (which I reviewed and read on my podcast, Saturday Morning Story Time Live!), they show us the indispensable, powerful gift that is dreaming. Mark was also the photographer for another book I reviewed and read live, Carola Schmidt’s When a Brave Bear Fights Cancer, also featuring Mawson and friends.

No Bear Is an Island begins with a solitary Mawson. That’s important to acknowledge—we all need some time alone. As a Creative, it’s essential to both the generation of ideas for and generation of my work. Like me, Mawson is a writer (he’s a poet). We then hear from other bears, some of whom are filled with worry and woe. Even Bleary, the dreamer, worries what might happen if they let go of their dreams. Others want to be loved, hugged, and understood (who doesn’t?), or, like Scotland the Brave (my favorite of Mawson’s friends), to prove to ourselves (even more than to the world) that we are up to the challenge, whatever it may be, although we’re more than a little afraid. There’s even a pirate, who wonders if, now that he’s secured his riches, they will be enough to keep him fulfilled.

Mawson, sensing the distant voices of his fellows (each with a whispered If only…), wants to rise to the occasion to assist and support them. What ensues is a lesson all of us need to hear—and act upon. To read and learn and think about by ourselves, and together, and by ourselves again.

And so, I’ll leave you to it.