Community is needing each other

Last week Kevin & I sat around our friend's South Philly living room, balancing plates of home-made spaghetti on our laps, reflecting on a talk from Michelle Alexander heard earlier that night at Penn.  The conversation began wandering back into our own day-to-day lives and Kevin related how we'd found ourselves so reliant upon community when the landscaping truck broke down.  Both of us are still trying to work our ways, mentally, into the shared space of needing people.  There's so much latent individualism lurking in the recesses of our mind.

Our friend shared an exchange that happened with her CSA a few seasons ago.  An older Italian farmer was in attendance-- like real farmer-- she clarified.  Not a young urban bearded dude in flannel, but a man with broad hands and a history in land.  The collective was sitting around discussing building community.  They talked about a variety of events they could host to get to know one another, projects they could take, duties they could share.  The Italian farmer scoffed and voiced his lone opinion for the night: "That will never work.  You only have community when you need one another."

At the time, our friend, a Left-y historian with a focus on class, took this as eye-rolling at middle class liberals.  We began discussing his point in the context of our truck incident.

It's so true.

Community is built out of need.

Kevin & I have floated the idea of not having certain tools that we use regularly & instead sharing with a neighbor.  And reciprocating by purchasing something they might borrow from us.  Not an unheard of practice-- many communities historically and throughout the world either pool resources or are comfortable with sharing.  Kevin & I often resist this for probably the same reasons many others do-- it's more convenient to have you own thingamabob ready when you want it & it's much simpler to not worry about caring for someone else's precious doohickey.

On the one hand, Kevin & I care for our belongings & make them last.  We don't purchase a lot of physical stuff-- we're more likely to purchase an experience, like a concert or a meal out.  However, we're hard on stuff.  And it drives us nuts to have something loaned be returned in a lesser condition.  We don't want to be bad-mouthed (yes, like we have at times bad-mouthed others) so we get nervous about borrowing.  So nervous, that when we do borrow, we often will try to return the thingamajig in better shape than we received it.  This might be a good practice & make us look good, but it's time-consuming, and ultimately makes us both want to be more isolated, less in the network of sharing.

We're working to just be more transparent.  And to not be so scared of work.  Maybe our fear over disappointing someone with how we care for their whooziwhatzit will make us stronger, more mindful stewards in multiple areas of our life.

But this is all very mild need.

We've all heard of communities forming and bonding in times of crisis.  There's nothing like shared experience to unite people.  But you can't impose that & we don't wish crisis upon one another.  And yet-- I think we all crave some sense of belonging & community-- that's why we try to create it again and again.

Is the practice again of just being more transparent?  Not being so isolated?  Letting the impact of life be seen and known so that there's room for others to support?  To share, swap stories, scoff, roll eyes, bad mouth, and ultimately know and be known?  To balance spaghetti on our knees, listen, and learn from one another.