Learnings is where I attempt to make sense of what I am doing, seeing, practicing throughout the month (among other verbs). It’s a place for all the ways I’m learning even when I don’t call it that.
February is for sinking into what we started. For more of the good stuff. And to me, community is the good stuff. Connections that cross-boundaries and bring joyful breathless “I can’t believe we met” moments to life. I sometimes feel like I’m never not thinking about community. What does this word we throw onto vision boards and around in wistful daydreaming conversations actually mean? How do we create it? Sustain it?
This month I had an internal challenge with myself — a common way I experiment with new ways of being in the world. I like to make it fun and playful and usually I just keep it to myself or a few close friends. The challenge was to talk to a stranger every day in February. I wanted to see how tiny interactions could add impact my sense of community. With the realization that to me community feels like a tapestry I’m always weaving, how would these little stitches add to the integrity? Also, this forced me to focus outside myself, be in community spaces, (mostly coffee shops — I have more thoughts on our lack of third places, but that’s for another day) and flex my confidence by risking rejection.
Why strangers? Well, because I live most of my life within a 1.5-mile radius and I could easily rely on the familiar. And I was curious who my brain skips over, instantly labels, codes as “them.” This relates back to the practice I wrote about last month of internally greeting people with “you are a part of me that I do not yet know.” (Valerie Kaur, and no this isn’t a Chicago style citation.)
Overall, it went well. I don’t think I hit every single day but I noticed so many shifts in my internal landscape. These little experiments feel cyclical and connected. I shared the image below over two years ago on Instagram and even though today I would design the graphic differently, it still feels true. I’m trying things, listening to myself and my community, and learning as I go.
NOTICING
Lately I’ve been noticing how difficult it can be to connect with friends who have children. In fact, I often use the excuse “they are in a different phase of life from me.” It’s not that I don’t love them (and their kids!) I can just feel alienated by their shift in schedule and priorities. It is a moment of transition that I’m learning to navigate with a few close friends. Luckily, after sending one friend the article below, we scheduled solo time to catch up and time for me to love on her baby. I’m grateful to
for sparking my thinking on this topic.“Friendship, care, and community-building is periodically no fun at all. It’s un-optimizable. You can’t put it in your resume. You can’t buy it, or hack it, or fast-track it.
But its value is beyond measure.” - Anne Helen Petersen
PRACTICING
So if we genuinely want community, what does it look like in the day-to-day? Here are some questions I ask myself and others as I practice living this value.
For me:
Who do I consider my community? Who do I skip over without realizing it?
What makes me feel seen and special and loved?
Where am I avoiding showing up? How can I soften towards the inconveniences of being in community?
For others:
Want to go on a walk together? It would be a gift if you picked the time and place.
Can I come over for dinner one night this week? I could use some quality time.
How can I best support you right now? Want to brainstorm together?
REFLECTING
As I think about community, I am reminded of a sort of poem I wrote in 2023. I’ve included it below. When I’d rather not indulge the inconveniences of living in community I remember that, as I heard this TikTok creator
put it, I would rather have the problems that come with being in community than the problems of feeling isolated.The community we crave exists in the consistent actions we would rather avoid.
Picking up the phone.
Putting the clothes on and paying for the car and facing the crowd
just for a wink and smile of support.
Random postcards.
Market flowers on the front porch.
Answered texts, honest and over-written, to account for tone.
I remember you, we met last time. Take my number. I’ll be there.
Green chile chicken soup, hope it’s good because today is the meal train day and it’s all there is time for.
Remembering that main, side, met-once character in their story’s name.
Driving 36 minutes out of the way for the champagne of beer.
I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I always have time for you.
We’ll figure it out together. I’m listening.
I got the tickets, want to go?
I’m not feeling my best, can you bring over dinner?
My house is a mess, come over.
I need your help, I’m coming over.
Birthday calls.
Calls for no reason.
Call.
Showing up – tired, heart-broken, as present as the moment allows.
That’s all for this time around. I’ll leave you with this wholesome screenshot. Let’s keep trying, listening, and learning.
flex my confidence by risking rejection -- omg. loved this sm
loved this <3 going to use those guiding questions as journal prompts!