The Call of Community

There’s been a curious shift in recent months. 

A rosy tint in the water I’ve never seen before. An unfamiliar scent in the air.

I bet the cats know what’s up.

————

For most of my life I ignored the notion of community. 

Not by choice, but through a quiet, learned preference for turning inward.

Inward was comfortable. At least familiar, if not always pleasant.

Outward meant being seen. Reaching for what I want. Putting energy into others.

That seemed uncomfortable, risky, unnecessary in the face of so-called contentment.

Thus my comfort with turning inward became a habit.

But something shifted sometime this summer. Despite lacking my express written consent, community has apparently become a primary emotional need. 

Not having much say in the matter, I leaned in and began investing more in the circles I felt on the fringes of. In Vancouver, there’s Kumo, the events group I’m part of. I went camping and shared my music with them. At home, I went to the latest ceremony a friend of mine hosts, leaving with a vow to never miss another.

I’ve learned that community does indeed take effort. You have to be open. You’ll find new edges, discover new pieces of yourself. And showing up for others is essential.

Looking back, I recognize that I just didn’t have the capacity to build community. 

Not energetically, and not emotionally. I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the effort required or invest in any connections made. And I certainly wasn’t comfortable with putting myself out there. So I ghosted my way through cities all over the world.

But life is different now. 

Designed, albeit unintentionally, so the buried desire for community could bloom. 

Which is what I am calling a big fucking deal, on a personal level. ‘Tis a fundamental shift in how I orient in and to the world that wasn’t asked for, but arrived all the same, offering only the choice between submission and growth or comfort and stagnation.

Turns out being part of a community oriented around what you enjoy is, uhh, everything. Fun. Rewarding. Nourishing. Connective. All that juicy good stuff.

I’m excited to keep leaning in.

And I’m excited to discover who this version of me that wants to lean in is.

With love from the cabin,

~ Alexander